the sober man ignores the thistle
decides instead to wet his whistle
heads straight for the nearest bar
& soon he's roaring slàinte mhath*
keep English Ale or Irish Porter
make mine Scottish Fire Water
it's proof against the Highland weather
loosens lips so you can blether
you'll become a champion talker
after a dram of Johnnie Walker
through your alcoholic haze
gaze on bonny tartan braes
watch the haggis roamin' free
plucky beasties though they're only wee
see Venice and die but just feel peaky
when you set eyes on gude Auld Reekie
toast this Athens of the North
drink like a fish in the Firth of Forth
there's pickled herring and black bun
made in Scotland by the ton
piper's pibroch fiddler's reel
men in kilts with sex appeal
there's loch and burn and ben and glen
heather and broom I ken I ken
all these are braw but one thing's siccar
best of aw's that golden liquor
a single malt a single malt
gives you a jolt like a thunderbolt
(*Gaelic for 'Good Health')
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