Social Disease

My bulldog is barking in the backyard Enough to raise a dead man from his grave And I can't concentrate on what I'm doing Disturbance going to crucify my days And the days they get longer and longer And the nighttime is a time of little use For I just get ugly and older I get juiced on Mateus and just hang loose And I get bombed for breakfast in the morning I get bombed for dinner time and tea I dress in rags, smell a lot, and have a real good time I'm a genuine example of a social disease My landlady lives in a caravan Well that is when she isn't in my arms And it seems I pay the rent in human kindness But my liquor also helps to grease her palms And the ladies are all getting wrinkles And they're falling apart at the seams Well I just get high on tequila And see visions of vineyards in my dreams