Beer
(With apologies to Tom Rowe)

Idaho Man grows the barley-o,
Oh the barley
He works in the sun, he works in the snow.
Oh the barley beer
Then he loads it up in a big old truck,
Sends it to Anheuser for lots of bucks.
Oh the barley, oh the barley-0.

        Oh the barley, Ole Anheuser tea.
        You killed my Grampa, killed my Pa.
        And you sure as hell are a killin' me.
        Oh the barley, oh the barley-o.

When they fought the war against the tax on cheer;
They fought it over Anheuser beer.
Old Boise put a tax on it,
All of Idaho nearly took a fit.

In the time of the two-thousand-seven bar;
Beer sitting in the Legion store.
They pumped it in it at minus twelve degrees,
A long cold night in a Idaho freeze.

Then the grease trap combusted 'cause it wasn't clean
Beer barrels done split clean in twain.
Two million gallons spilled that night
People suckin' from the gutters caused a terrible sight.

Grampa, he died a quick good way, sir.
Pa went down in the pool of pilsner.
But I won't go in a pool of blood,
I won't drown in an amber flood;
But still I'll go down to the barley, Oh the barley beer.

Hi Mom. I'm back from Seattle.