The ale they drink in Giggleswick They brew in Biggleswade; In Chirk and Bilbster, so they say, Their scores are never paid; In Bugsworth and Fazakerley Their snouts are red and blue, But the very best tipple of all, I ween, Is the beer at Luton Hoo! A man may swig at Timperley, And fill his paunch at Diss, In Bootle and Balquhidder too A cask is not amiss. At Cleobury Mortimer — I've never been to Wookey, That lies beyond the West; In Spofforth, or in Widnes, A wounded heart may rest; But in Yealmpton, ah! in Yealmpton, There peace with love doth blend, And evening comes with healing To Brigg and Ponder's End. |