The Ballad of Michael Malloy
CHORUS: This is the ballad of Michael Malloy
He’d been pickled since he was a boy
‘Twas an institution during Prohibition
And his name was Michael Malloy
All the speakeasies feared of his thirst
His fifteenth gin went down like his first
When he darkened their doors
They shouted “MORE! MORE! MORE!”
But by morning, he’d always felt worse
CHORUS
Then one day, his patrons got wise
An insurance scam they did devise
They would fill him full of every alcohol
And get paid when he met his demise
CHORUS
But no matter the tun or the keg
Michael always seemed to find his legs
Even when he’d fall
He wasn’t dead at all
Merely using the floor as a bed
CHORUS
Methanol, liniment, antifreeze
He imbibed all these poisons with ease
Uncooked oysters brined
For days in turpentine
Nothing brought Iron Mike to his knees
CHORUS
Then they fed him the oddest repast
Sardines, carpet tacks, tin, broken glass
Yet he savored each bite
And slept throughout the night
And he came back for more after mass
CHORUS
After weeks of attempting to kill
Via taxi, exposure, and swill
Michael passed out cold
And swallowed gas from coal
Through a hose that his patrons instilled
Sure, he died then, and they buried Mike
Much too soon for the police to like
They exhumed the grave
And thus ensnared the knaves
Who had killed him the previous night
All five patrons were found culpable
In the death of Mike the Durable
They collected no winnings
But they rode the lightning
For the death of their pickled old pal
CHORUS
© 2021 John Brocato
He’d been pickled since he was a boy
‘Twas an institution during Prohibition
And his name was Michael Malloy
All the speakeasies feared of his thirst
His fifteenth gin went down like his first
When he darkened their doors
They shouted “MORE! MORE! MORE!”
But by morning, he’d always felt worse
CHORUS
Then one day, his patrons got wise
An insurance scam they did devise
They would fill him full of every alcohol
And get paid when he met his demise
CHORUS
But no matter the tun or the keg
Michael always seemed to find his legs
Even when he’d fall
He wasn’t dead at all
Merely using the floor as a bed
CHORUS
Methanol, liniment, antifreeze
He imbibed all these poisons with ease
Uncooked oysters brined
For days in turpentine
Nothing brought Iron Mike to his knees
CHORUS
Then they fed him the oddest repast
Sardines, carpet tacks, tin, broken glass
Yet he savored each bite
And slept throughout the night
And he came back for more after mass
CHORUS
After weeks of attempting to kill
Via taxi, exposure, and swill
Michael passed out cold
And swallowed gas from coal
Through a hose that his patrons instilled
Sure, he died then, and they buried Mike
Much too soon for the police to like
They exhumed the grave
And thus ensnared the knaves
Who had killed him the previous night
All five patrons were found culpable
In the death of Mike the Durable
They collected no winnings
But they rode the lightning
For the death of their pickled old pal
CHORUS
© 2021 John Brocato