I quit drinking two Aprils ago — retired, you might say. Didn’t hit bottom, just figured it was time. And I feel a hell of a lot better for it.

So here’s a cheeky little ditty about trying to get arrested for 28 days because you can’t afford the Betty Ford Center.

Give ’er a listen, a like, a follow, a download — I promise it’ll brighten your day.

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Links to major streaming services

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Dry at the Station

Won’t cha let me get dry at the station
Please pass them bennies, Johnny Law
Dry at the station
Ain’t nobody can afford Rancho Mirage

Well the misery it just keeps spiraling down the bowl
Punch in fifty hours and your still living on the dole
This is a love letter to Sheriff Jones
I need your three walls to wring out these wet bones

Won’t cha let me get dry at the station
Please pass them bennies, Johnny Law
Dry at the station
Ain’t nobody can afford Rancho Mirage

And it rolls
Sunrise to sunset, dusk to dawn it rolls
On and on and on and on and on

Mister don’t cha cry I promise you’ll be fine
I just need a charge that will get me twenty-eight days of time
Somebody get that Sheriff – call him on the phone
I need his three walls to wring out these wet bones

Won’t cha let me get dry at the station
Please pass them bennies, Johnny Law
Dry at the station
Ain’t nobody can afford Rancho Mirage

© 2025 Alan Peters