Ah, Burns, the Devil

Ah, Burns, the devil, songs he wrote
And poems while working and drinking
And loving the ladies and the sport
He wrote and wrote without thinking.

And I the poor writer when sober
To write the challenge I set and at fail and fall
I find that when I to write I sit down,
I can find little to write on at all...

Maybe it is the drinking
The wine, the women, the sport,
That make this life of living
Worthy and of writing well worth!