Water Is Alright In Tay
by S. McGrathThe French drink wine, the English tay.
The Yankee drinks his hot black coffee.
The child drinks milk nine times a day.
The Scotsman sips his whiskey toddy.
You can keep you wine and keep your tay!
My curse on him that brings me coffee!
I'll a porter, if I may.
It makes me feel con- tent and happy.
( Chorus
Porter quaffed down with a laugh.
The gentry have their achin' livers.
Water is all right in tay,
For fish, and things that swim in rivers. )
The poor man and the beggar, too,
The poet in the corner thinking.
If they had money enough to spend,
It's pints of porter they'd be drinking.
Chorus
The miser hoards and stores his gold.
The bee collects the summer honey.
When that misers dead and cold,
Someone else will kiss his money!
Chorus
Some go in for counting beads.
More go in for chasing women.
The scholar stays at home and reads.
Give me the glass with porter in it.
Chorus