Drunken Dug
They say he was born in a barrel of wine,
With blood that ran of mead.
Never would he drink from his mother’s breast,
For milk he didn’t need.
They say he was raised on gin and rum,
Our good old, drunken Dug.
And he’d preach that the eighth deadly sin
Was a man with an empty mug.
Tap, Tap, Turn the Tap,
Chug the beer and throw your cap.
Toast the host, and slap a maid,
Tonight, as if your tab is paid.
Now his tankard was a dragon’s tooth
He took from the very maw;
Lulled the beast to sleep with a fine liquor,
And then he pried the jaw.
When the dragon woke, he was very cross,
To find the gaping hole.
But he forgave when he ate Dug’s parting gift;
A whiskey casserole.
Tap, Tap, Turn the Tap,
Chug the beer and throw your cap.
Slap the host, and chase a maid,
Tonight, as if your tab is paid.
When he heard that the finest alcohol
Was kept beyond the grave,
He pursued the reaper down below,
Into the deepest cave.
“Death, take me now!” he begged him,
For I’ve seen the brochure;
I’ll gladly spend forever on your
Hellish drinking tour.
Tap, Tap, Turn the Tap,
Chug the beer and throw your cap.
Chase the host, and bed a maid,
Tonight, as if your tab is paid.
Well, the devil at first was overjoyed
With such an eager guest.
But Dug could chug twenty kegs a day,
And left none for the rest.
"My thirsty friend, you just have to go,”
Satan showed him out.
“But if you ever pass this way again,
We’ll share a jug of stout.”
Tap, Tap, Turn the Tap,
Chug the beer and throw your cap.
Bed the host, and wed a maid,
Tonight, as if your tab is paid.
Bed the host, and wed a maid,
Tonight, as if your tab is paid!
