For some newer verses from my drinking song sweat shop:

New Verses

The next came in was a mortician.
And he was in sorry condition,
Yes, he was in sorry condition,
For to join in the jovial crew,
And he flung out his arms and cried,
"If no one in town soon died,
I'll have to consider suicide"...

The next came in was a sailor,
And he was no dinghy bailer,
Yes, he was no dinghy bailer,
For to join in the jovial crew;
For he'd sailed tall ships 'round Cape Horn;
With fingers frozen and canvas torn,
Where you'd wish to God you'd ne'er been born...

The next came in was a sock troll,
Whose dress was exceedingly droll,
Whose dress was exceedingly droll,
When he joined in the jovial crew;
Argyle, stripped, and some was patched,
For he was attired in socks he'd snatched,
And not a single one did match...

The next came in was a chicken plucker,
And he was one mean sucker,
Yes, he was one mean sucker,
For to join in the jovial crew;
For he'd plucked chickens from town to town,
Rhode Island Reds to Leghorn Brown,
And he'd plucked them chickens up and down...

The next came in was an attorney,
Who'd returned from an arduous journey,
Who'd returned from an arduous journey,
For to join in the jovial crew;
He'd traveled the whole wide world around,
He'd searched through cities; he'd searched through towns,
There was no justice to be found...

The next came in was a firefighter,
And there was no one brighter,
Yes, there was no one brighter,
For to join in the jovial crew;
And he hauled out his nozzle with all his might,
And it was a totally awesome sight,
And the landlady's daughter squealed in delight...

The next came in was a financier,
With a cellular phone in each ear,
With a cellular phone in each ear,
For to join in the jovial crew;
And he looked all around with a frown,
And said, "If this deal don't go down,
I'll have to leverage the very next round"...

Cheerily,
Charley Noble