Frank E Gibbard Posted June 5, 2012 Share Posted June 5, 2012 Celebrating a career, you might say, my jubilee, Sixty glorious beers I have been readily drinking, Felt it a solemn duty to do so steadily, unstinting; At times the hand that held the pint a mite unsteady May have wavered but headed always to that brew Hop-flavoured at all times through my years of service At the likes of "The Prince of Wales." I raised many ales In saloons, and bars, and jolly cheers yet here a bitter rub, Bear scars of too many themed and truly awful faux pubs, Plastic oirish inns, Tex-Mex cantinas, full of false antiques With no trace of patina, more bodhrans and schillelaghs Than you could shake a stick at as folk drank their Baileys. Real ale, I might say right royal ale, has had recent revival, As pubs go to the wall a campaign ensured some's survival. Not the end at all, if one ignores our health police's warnings Still enjoy long nights in the pub, not necessarily the mornings. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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