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DEAD DOG SCRUMPY (Trevor Crozier) In the year of one, in a little cider mill A poor old dog lay down to die cause he was feeling ill He chose a most precarious perch above the cider press When all at once he tumbled in and perished in distress Which caused his master for to grieve likewise his mistress too Until his sorrows were relieved when he sampled of the brew Hark, hark cried farmer Atwater its likes I ne'er did sup So he invited all the neighbors in and bid them take a cup And every man that drank that night got drunk as drunk could be They wondered how that scrumpy had acquired such potency The farmer kept his council and took another drop When all at once the poor old dog came floating to the top A silence then did fill the room, every man he wore a frown The recognized old Bendigo, though he was upside down The vicar lost his color and collapsed upon the floor And the squire he lost his britches in the rush to reach the door See here said farmer Atwater, in all his life I vow He never bit no man nor dog, he'll not bite no man now And this shall be his epitaph, here lies our faithful Ben Who perished in the scrumpy vat and quickly rose again So if ever your in Devon and you goes in to a bar Just ask for Dead Dog scrumpy its the best there is by far Refuse all imitations, you'll sleep just like a log You can always recognize it by the hair of the dog Copyright Trevor Crozier recorded by Ian MacKintosh @drink @animal filename[ DEDDOGSC |
Dead Dog Scrumpy |
