Last night as I slept, I dreamed I met with Behan
I shook him by the hand and we pa**ed 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