My sister's in the kitchen
She walks across the blue vinyl floor
Empties the ashtrays
Shouting “What are these dirty gla**es for?”
My brothers keep punching
They roll back the beds that they've made
I'm drinking Irish Breakfast
On a cold night in Adelaide
The old man crashes in the driveway
With a price on his head
We had to hold him down
Me and Lois… to get him ready for bed
At the table on Sundays
The whole shooting match goes on parade
I'm drinking Irish Breakfast
On a cold night in Adelaide
Save myself the drama
Save myself from the grief that they spill
Over the half empty bottle
And the anger not even the Irish could k**
I'm too old for crying
But I'm too young to let memories fade
So I'm drinking Irish Breakfast
On a cold night in Adelaide
I'm drinking Irish Breakfast
On a cold night in Adelaide
Oh Adelaide!