Poem composed on the fly

A huge Dubliners influence again. I hear Luke Kelly's and Ronnie Drew's voices in my head a lot when I write poetry now. I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad.

One day as I was walking
Down by the sea
A girl with eyes of brown
Came up and said to me
How'd you like to walk with me?
And talk a bit of a while?
How'd you like to come home with me?
And get drunk in real style?

So I says to the pretty young lass
Last night I got drunk off me ass
I threw up all in my bed
And woke up with a poundin' in my head
So I don't feel like partakin' of the ale today
So unless you want to get frisky
You can just go on your way

Says the lass to me
You're not a man
A real man passes out
Gets up
And does it all again
You can't take your liquor I am sure
So I'll bother you no more

Says I says I to the pretty fair maid
No more drinking will I do today
Unless you want me to throw up me bits
Just then the lassy showed me her tits
Says I, I guess just a pint will do
A half hour later and I'm pleasantly screwed

Oh cursed be the women, the devil to them
For they know what they can do to us men
Just a flash of breast
And we're doomed to Heck
With three children
A mortgage
And a rope round our necks