Well she loves my soul, but she hates my drinking
She never seems to know just what I'm thinking
She knows not where nor where I'm from
And I don't know where she gets off trying to be my mum
And I don't appreciate her concern
It's my choice if I want to crash and burn
And I'm not crashing, and I'm not burning
I'm in a constant state of observational learning
Maybe I do it a bit too often while sipping cups of wine
But it lightens up my view, and the choice is only mine
Yeah she loves my soul, but she, she hates my boozin
She never notices what I'm winning only notices what I'm loosin'
Sometimes I light up, and keep her up all night
Maybe this has something to do with her plight
She doesn't see the beauty, she sees foulness and depression
She doesn't understand how I grew this great obsession
I know for sure even though it's quite unhealthy
My Cass won't make me low, but my inspiration is wealthy
Oh she loves my soul, but she hates my drownin'
She never seems to laugh when I'm dancin' and I'm clownin'
She doesn't seem to realise that all her favourite songs of mine
Were written after downing at least two bottles of wine
Oh she smashes all the glasses in an attempt to make me stop
So I drink straight from the bottle, as I dance and skip and hop
She cries at me, she screams at me, she tells me it's my cease
She says Bibby won't you stop this rubbish, stop it for me please
I tell her when she keeps her fingers out of my tobacco pouch,
Maybe then I'll consider sitting soberly on the pouch
Yeah she loves my soul, but she hates my drinking
I wonder if she knows that my love for her is shrinking
