Most people say they're coming
   For the music, voices humming,
And the rapture and the glasses' happy clinks -
   And perhaps they are not lying
   But there's surely no denying
That I only come to parties for the drinks.

   I can't stand the silly chatter
   And the unexpected clatter
Of another tray of crockery's demise;
   And I do not like to notice
   How unmusical a throat is
After three cigars and Dubonnet on ice.

   When the voices grow too groggy
   And the owners get too soggy
And the blasted fumes take over from old cares
   I surely won't get mixed in it –
   I pour another drink and flit
And continue reading novels on the stairs.

   I suppose that there is no one
   As will ever cause me throw one
But if it should chance to happen, have your fun –
   Shan't be there to spoil your pleasure:
   As it's privacy I treasure,
After having thrown that party I will run!

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