Dwight, the hometown alcoholic
in the pubs he does frolic
everyday of the week
his breathe of booze it does reek
he\'s there morning and night
always looking for a fight
think sobriety\'s shite
you\'ll never seem him with a Sprite
an old man, his hair white
he\'s shrinking now, losing height
his minds far from right
he\'s an awful tragic sight
poor old Dwight
or as I call him.. Dad