Last night as I slept, I dreamed I met with Behan
I shook him by the hand and we passed the time of day
When questioned on his views on the crux of life's philosophies
He had but these few clear and simple words to say
I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing
I have cursed, bled and sworn, jumped bail and landed up in jail
Life has often tried to stretch me, but the rope always went slack
And now that I've a pile, I'll go down to the Chelsea
I'll walk in on my feet but I'll leave there on my back
Because
I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing
Oh the words that he spoke seemed the wisest of philosophies
There's nothing ever gained by a wet thing called a tear
When the world is too dark and I need the light inside of me
I'll go into a bar and drink fifteen pints of beer
I am going, I am going
Any which way the wind may be blowing
I am going, I am going
Where streams of whiskey are flowing
