1
Your doctors may boast of their lotions,
And ladies may talk of their tea;
But I envy them none of their potions;
A Glass of good stingo for me.
The doctor may sneer if he pleases,
But my recipe never will fail;
For the physic that cures all diseases,
Is a bumper of Warrington ale.
2
D'ye mind me, I once was a sailor,
And to far, distant countries I've been;
If I lie, may I go for a tailor,
But a thousand fine sights have I seen.
Often crammed with good things like a wallet
I've guzzled more drinks than a whale;
But the very best stuff to my palate
Is a bumper of Warrington ale.
|
3
When my trade was upon the salt ocean,
Why, There I got plenty of grog,
And I liked it because I'd a notion
It set one's good spirits agog.
But since upon land I've been steering,
Experience has altered my tale;
For nothing on earth is so cheering
As a bumper of Warrington ale.
4
Into France I have oftentimes follow'd,
And once took a trip into Spain;
And all kind of liquids I've swallow'd
From spring-water up to champagne.
But the richest of wines to my thinking,
Compared with good stingo is stale;
For there's nothing in life that's worth drinking
Like a bumper of Warrington ale. |
