Went to see my old friend Patrick
He was at the end of his days
Said he had some things to tell me
Before we parted ways
He said 'you know I've lived a good life, but I've had it up to here
With our precious little masters
And their seven dollar beers
He said 'you've seen those little darlings, with their proper attitudes
'Lords and ladies of the manor, think that they were born to rule
'And each of them's a genius, with their rolling eyes and sneers
'Writing rules for us to live by, and drinking seven dollar beers'
And he said: 'Dying's so hard, it's beyond tears
'Will there be a bright light?
'Are you near, friend are you near?'
He said 'They've got no use for Jesus
'But they're got their own crusades
'Kings and queens of sanctimony, Lord they'll hound you to your grave
'Got their boutique psychosis, and how they love to wine
'And they'll call you a hater if you do not toe their line'
'You know we used to go out drinkin' -- had ourselves a lot of fun
'Sippling Blues and cold Budweisers, fifty cents for every one
'And no one gave a rat's patootie if your chicken was free range
'Hell, if you worried about a chicken, people'd think that you were strange'
Well he lasted till the weekend, we threw his ashes in the sea
So they wrote us up for littering, guess that's the way it has to be
Guess that's why my old friend Patrick, said he'd had it up to here
With those precious little bastards, and their seven dollar beers
Dying's so hard it's beyond tears
Will there be a bright light, are you near?
Friend are you near?
Are you near?
Yes, I am here