The Reckoning of Flanagan’s Floor

[Intro — slow, painful single fiddle note, then stumbles into tempo] [Verse 1] I woke up this morning with gravel for brains Me tongue tasting something between leather and drains One shoe was missing, the other was wet And there was a fucking limerick still on me chest — in biro, in red [Pre-Chorus] Oh God, oh Christ, oh Mary and saints I remember a woman — and some kind of complaints [Chorus] Oh the reckoning comes with the morning it does It hits like a fucking Galway bus — because it bloody does Me head is a bodhran being beat by the damned Me pride is a shipwreck, me dignity scammed But I’ll drag meself back to Flanagan’s tonight Because the hair of the dog is a God-given right [Verse 2] Me mate Seamus says I proposed to the bar Says I climbed on a stool and recited Dunbar Said I tried to impress her with one final rhyme — “There once was a man, the poor cunt, full of wine Who said to a woman ‘your beauty’s divine’ She said ‘you’re a mess’ He said ‘nonetheless’ And she poured him one more — now he’s doing just fine” She apparently left — but she laughed, so that’s fine [Pre-Chorus] I found her number written on me palm Half-washed off — which in hindsight seems calm [Chorus] Oh the reckoning comes with the morning it does It hits like a fucking Galway bus — because it bloody does Me head is a bodhran being beat by the damned Me pride is a shipwreck, me dignity scammed But I’ll drag meself back to Flanagan’s tonight Because the hair of the dog is a God-given right [Bridge — spoken word over slow fiddle] (spoken, gravelly) I found me coat in the hallway. That was good. I found me dignity… I did not. Seamus says I bought everyone chips at 1am. Old Brennan says I recited all of Yeats. I don’t remember any fucking Yeats. I remember the woman. I remember the chest. …The magnificent chest. I do not remember the rest. But I am told — I was fucking magnificent. [Verse 3 — picking up tempo] Now it’s half two in the afternoon and I’m alive Got a glass of water, I may yet survive I texted that number — half the digits were smeared Got back a question mark, which is better than feared [Pre-Chorus] I showered, I rallied, I combed what I had For a man of me evening, I don’t look half bad [Outro Chorus — defiant, crowd-building] The reckoning came with the morning it did Found me face-down with me head on the grid But I’ll be back at Flanagan’s, stool number three Because that beautiful bastard of a night — it was me Pour me a pint, we’re not fucking finished yet lads The reckoning came — but it didn’t drive me mad! [Outro — fiddle speeds back up, door of pub creaks open]