Dead Dog Scrumpy



In the year of one, in a little cider mill

A poor old dog lay down to die cause he was feeling ill

He chose a most precarious perch above the cider press

When all at once he tumbled in and perished in distress



Which caused his master for to grieve likewise his mistress too

Until his sorrows were relieved when he sampled of the brew

Hark, hark cried farmer Atwater its likes I ne'er did sup

So he invited all the neighbors in and bid them take a cup



And every man that drank that night got drunk as drunk could be

They wondered how that scrumpy had acquired such potency

The farmer kept his council and took another drop

When all at once the poor old dog came floating to the top



A silence then did fill the room, every man he wore a frown

The recognized old Bendigo, though he was upside down

The vicar lost his color and collapsed upon the floor

And the squire he lost his britches in the rush to reach the door



See here said farmer Atwater, in all his life I vow

He never bit no man nor dog, he'll not bite no man now

And this shall be his epitaph, here lies our faithful Ben

Who perished in the scrumpy vat and quickly rose again



So if ever your in Devon and you goes in to a bar

Just ask for Dead Dog scrumpy its the best there is by far

Refuse all imitations, you'll sleep just like a log

You can always recognize it by the hair of the dog



recorded by Ian MacKintosh

@drink @animal

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