Rye Whiskey Komin' Home

Rye Whiskey, Rye Whisky the death of me will be, far from even the sent of you, I must carefully stay,
on this very day,
run would I, not so far away, Benjamin has passed on his way,
My old teeth and gums, have rotted away,
replace them I will replace them, with bright white lightened, and no decay,
until that day that day,
this Irish poet, ore waves most blue,
must his free verse maintain.