Iron Brew (original poem: John Murray - adapted Paul OíBrien)

 

Some sing oí whisky from the still,

That paralyses wit and will;

Some do the honest water praise,

On its behalf their voices raise,

Some others sing oí sparkling wine,

And hail it as the drink sublime;

But Barrís iron brew it beats them all,

Thereís nought to equal it at all.

 

Iron brew, Iron brew,

Correct in every P and Q,

Itís Barrís famous iron brew.

Iron brew, Iron brew,

Just the stuff for me and you,

Itís that famous iron brew.

 

It wonít land ye in the jail,

It doesnít give ye gout nor bile,

Your shattered nerves youíll soon renew,

By drinking Barrís famed iron brew.

The sailor bold, the noble duke,

The poet in his ingle neuk,

Each can his task get quickly through,

Thanks be to Barrís famed iron brew.

 

Iron brew, Iron brew,

Correct in every P and Q,

Itís Barrís famous iron brew.

Iron brew, Iron brew,

Just the stuff for me and you,

Itís that famous iron brew.

 

The young ones all for it do cry

When it gets scarce the auld ones sigh;

What everyone says, is surely true,

Thereís nothing like Barrís iron brew.

The hereís a health to good auld Barr,

His name is known both near aní far;

In every house all Scotland through,

They speak of Barrís famed iron brew.

 

Iron brew, Iron brew,

Correct in every P and Q,

Itís Barrís famous iron brew.

Iron brew, Iron brew,

Just the stuff for me and you,

Itís that famous iron brew.