(Origannly Written by The Pogues)      Last night as I slept   I dreamt 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 lifes 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 was slack   And now that Ive a pile   Ill go down to the chelsea   Ill walk in on my feet   But Ill 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   Theres nothing ever gained   By a wet thing called a tear   When the world is too dark   And I need the light inside of me   Ill walk into a bar   And drink fifteen pints of beer      Iam 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 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   Where streams of whiskey are flowing   Where streams of whiskey are flowing