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