Back at the house

A bottle is found

And opened in honour of those who have drowned,

While we who have not are stricken with guilt

And dutifully see that not one drop is spilt;

We're drinking to life,

We're drinking to death -

We're drinking 'til none of our livers are left!

We're wending our way down to the spirit store,

We'll drink 'til we just can't drink anymore!

Raise your glasses high,

Drink the cellar dry!

Well, bloody my nose

And blacken my eye!

If it ain't some young Turk in search of a fight -

And Chanticleer's chest is sagging with pride,

For honour has yet to be satisfied.

Well, heaven be thanked

We live in an age

When no man need bother

(Except on the stage)

With 'Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori' -

And definitely not tonight!

I can still remember

When I was just a kid -

I was free to do what I wanted to,

But I never, ever did...

So now with years of discretion reached,

May we not forget

Libert, Egalit, Fraternit

For there's life in the old world yet!

There'll always be an England (oh yes there will),

An Ireland and a France (indubitably),

A Liechtenstein and Finland (absolutely right, completely undeniable),

And we have only one chance...

Earnest young man with an unhealthy tan

Puts a drink in my hand and says: