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| Pogues If I Should Fall From Grace With God Bottle Of Smoke Thanks and praises Thanks to Jesus I bet on the Bottle of Smoke I went to Hell And to the races To bet on the Bottle of Smoke The day being clear The sky being bright He came up on the left Like a streak of light Like a drunken fuck On a Saturday night Up came the Bottle of Smoke Twenty fucking five to one My gambling days are done I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke And my horse won Stewards inquiries Swift and fiery I had the Bottle of Smoke Inquisitions and suppositions I had the Bottle of Smoke Fuck the stewards A trip to Lourdes Might give the old fuckers The power of sight Screaming springers and stoppers And call out coppers But the money still gleams in my hand like a light Bookies cursing Cars reversing I had the Bottle of Smoke Glasses steaming Vessels bursting I had the Bottle of Smoke Slip a fifty to the wife And for each brat a crisp new five To give me a break on a Saturday night When I had the Bottle of Smoke Priests and maidens Drunk as pagans They had the Bottle of Smoke Sins forgiven and celebrations They had the Bottle of Smoke Fuck the Yanks And drink their wives The moon is clear The sky is bright I'm happy as the horses shite Up came the Bottle of Smoke |
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