There is no stronger tie
Between man and nature
Than the one that resides
In a keg of good beer

Oh, the barley and rye or hops
Noble in stature
Our thoughts are divided
Over which is most dear

Chorus
Be they lambics or lagers
Or bitters or bocks
Or pilsners or porters
Or mead sweet and clear
Whether stouts or old weizens
Or ales brown or pale
It's the same to our tankards
Just bring us more beer

For men of great strength
There is no match for stouts
Grew Samson his hair
And gave Atlas his might

Even great Hercules
Through twelve trials triumphant
Found time in his journeys
To toss back a pint
Chorus

After nights of long study
I did ascertain
That the thinking man's drinking
Fine lambics from Spain

Aristotle himself
Took a bottle from the shelf
To Socrates', Hippocrates'
And Plato's great brains!

Chorus

The lover's elixir
Is mead sweet as honey
Just one little bottle
Brings passion that grows

A goblet of silver
Filled thrice on the hour
Induces sweet slumber
So she can't say "No."

Chorus
The bock is renowned
As a drink of good fortune
It brings luck in games
Of skill and of chance

With dice and a firkin
The intrepid gambler
Comes home with a barrel
But no shirt or pants

Be they lambics or lagers
Or bitters or bocks
Or pilsners or porters
Or mead sweet and clear
Whether stouts or old weizens
Or ales brown or pale
It's the same to our tankards
Just bring us more lambics or lagers
Or bitters or bocks
Or pilsners or porters
Or mead sweet and clear
Whether stouts or old weizens
Or ales brown or pale
It's the same to our tankards
Just bring us more beer