Our Gert she’s not a drinker

To speak of any more

Just a glass at dinner time

She says that it’s the law.

 

Sometimes she’ll go for days on end

And never touch a drop

Apart from pints of lemonade

All with a lager top.

 

And if she’s doing Weightwatchers

Where booze counts as a “Sin”

She drinks that slim-line tonic

With just a splash of gin.

 

She cuts her sugar intake

Preferring wine that “brut”

And counts it in her five-a-day

Cos grapes, of course, are fruit.

 

Our Gert she’s not a drinker

To speak of any more

Just a glass at dinner time

And maybe one before.

 

Then at the quiz the other night

We thought we’d have to pass

“What were Mozart’s Christian names?”

She got it, “It’s Wolf Blass”.

 

Because I am teetotal

She doesn’t drive, so then

I put her in the wheelbarrow

And push her home again.

 

She’s very indecisive

Between the white and red

And sometimes chooses neither

But has a port instead.

 

You’d think they would not let her give

Her blood; but not a bit!

They value its high alcohol

To sterilise their kit.

 

Our Gert she’s not a drinker

To speak of any more

Just a glass at dinner time

Well, maybe three or four.

 

Our Gert she hasn’t had a drink

Since 20 flippin’ 10

And now it’s 2030

It’s time for one again.