A song to you nectar renown
That has brought grown men down.
A cold and bubble brown delight.
That warms and lengthens the night.
The juice of the barley and the malt
Makes the mind vault
To that lofty foolish realms
Where saints and madmen dwell.
There to view the world with clarity,
And our questions answered with certainty.
But wisdom gained from this night,
Will fade tomorrow with morning light.
A sultry mistress is the beer
That causes me to utter without fear,
Among the carousing and the fun
“Just one -- and then I am done.”
One turns to two, and two to four,
And soon I cannot find the door.
The feet are magic, the tongue is quick
Where did I acquire such sagacity and wit?
So while the dollar holds and we can stand,
Let us justify God’s ways to man.
The grave’s a fine and quiet place
But there is no beer there to taste.
Now I do the things I could
And take the door to yellow wood.
If the innkeeper throws us out
The jailers will receiver us without a doubt.
Yet the eternal question always remains
That mixes with the alcohol in my brain.
I wonder how the brewers of this heavenly treat
Make it so well and sell it so cheap.
~L.W. Neitzert