The Spoonbill Generator

The Gods Of My Great Grandfather

Begin again: restart anew [Big Andy]

The beer we mixed has failed to brew [Kansas Sam]

and so our alcoholic dreams [Big Andy]

Have all dried up, for now; yet schemes [Kansas Sam]

far beyond the scope of mortals [Big Andy]

Bring us wicked, sober chortles [Kansas Sam]

We have the hops; we have the yeast [F]

So filch the wine, and brew the priest [Kansas Sam]

Distill the holy water, too [F]

It's clear we haven't got a clue! [N]


Compelled by thoughts of drinking high, [Apsley]

We launch another hopeful try [N]

We buy some barrels and some vats [F]

And don our magic brewer's hats [N]

We stir the mixture with our "sticks" [F]

We've got to get our lager-fix [N]

The fermentation's setting in [F]

But is vodka, beer or gin? [N]

Never mind. We'll swill it down [F]

And have a party, go to town! [N]

Contributors: Big Andy, Kansas Sam, F, N, Anon., Apsley.
Poem finished: 18th November 2003 by Anon..