The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the garage crawl that day;
The sky was dark and cloudy with the party hours away.
But our patience was rewarded with a tiny patch of blue
And hope welled into happiness as the sun came bursting through.
Though the sun was brightly shinning high up in the sky,
It couldn’t hold a candle to the gleam in Ray Brinkley’s eye.
‘Cause cross this land far and wide folk are wont to say,
‘No one loves a party as does the Mighty Ray’.
Ray makes an early start with a Bloody Mary or two
And as the day moves along transitions to the brew.
As party time approaches, Ray is at the door
And doesn’t make his exit ’till they’re sweeping up the floor.
So as the night progressed and some fell by the way,
We knew the last man standing would be the Mighty Ray.
It started out quite slowly with Jello shots and such
But soon the yard was littered with those who drank too much.
And just as we expected when the hours began to pass,
Mighty Ray stood at the bar, Tequila in his glass.
On his left and to his right sat the wasted and the proud,
They drank, danced, bared their breasts and laughed way too loud.
Though in the haze of booze and smoke no one could say why
The ringing chant of “chug chug chug ‘ was heard both far and nigh.
Then finally came the moment when Das Boot had been filled
And all eyes were on Brinkley as his hand caressed the heel.
The crowd cheered with gusto as he raised it in the air,
Moonlight glistened on his head where once there had been hair.
Glass of amber nectar descending from above,
Brinkley softly whispers, ‘come hither my true love’.
Somewhere in this drunken land hearts are gay and light
People there are smiling, their eyes are clear and bright.
And somewhere men are laughing and women dance and shout
But there is no joy on our street – Mighty Brinkley has passed out.