Pints

On winter nights no better sight than the creamy pint of stout

And summer days bring cider craze of that there is no doubt

Lovely too are pints of beer but one too many brings the fear

So lick upon the hair of the dog to dissipate the hangin’ fog

In celebration of good times the pub is where you find the craic

Even too for death and rue the same old bar will bring you back

Form of madness full of shame and still it’s here for festive cheer

You’ll never learn it’s always there the sneaky pint is everywhere