It is a travesty poem

It is a travesty my friend,
it is a travesty for I have nothing to lend,
and I can only borrow,
so, I am sorry my friend,
I am terribly sorry for I see you and I see your worry,
but I cannot unfortunately for your problems make amends,
but we can drink your sorrows away,
for I have all the wine and all the beer that we could ever
need to make it a much more enjoyable day,
and we have all day, we have all day,
to try to find a way, to make your troubles end,
so, how about it my friend,
shall we sit, drink, and think,
and your troubles, try to comprehend?
So, how about it my friend, how about it my friend?

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