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The Mudcat Cafesj

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(Charles Dibdin)

A plague on those musty old lubbers,
Who tell us to fast and think,
And patient fall in with life's rubbers
With nothing but water to drink.
A can of good stuff, had they twigg'd it
Would have sent them for pleasure agog;
And in spite of the rules.
And in spite of the rules of the schools.
The old fools would have all of 'em swigg'd it
And swore there was nothing like grog.

My father, when last I from Guinea
Return'd with abundance of wealth,
Cried, "Jack, never be such a ninny
To drink." Says I, "father, your health."
So I pass'd round the stuff soon he twigg'd it,
And it set the old codger agog
And he swigged it and mother
And sister and brother
And I swigg'd, and all of us swigg'e it,
And swore there was nothing like grog.

One day, when the Chaplain was preaching,
Behind him I curiously slunk,
And, while he our duty was teaching,
As how we should never get drunk,
I tip't him the stuff, and he twigg'd it,
Which soon set his rev'rence agog.
And he swigg'd; and Nick swigg'd,
And Ben swigg'd, and Dick swigg'd,
And I swigg'd, and all of us swigg'd it,
And swore there was nothing like grog.

Then trust me, there's nothing as drinking
So pleasant on this side the grave;
It keeps the unhappy trom thinking,
And makes e'en more valiant the brave.
For me, from the moment I twigg'd it
The good stuff has so set me agog
Sick or well, late or early
Wind foully or fairly,
I've constantly swigg'd it,
And dam'me there's nothing like grog.

From Humor in American Song, Loesser
filename[ NOTHGROG

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