When your time o' work is done
And you've earned yourself some fun
In the pub you start to sup your drink
And clinkin' every cup
And the pint-pots you're perusin'
And you're boozin' till you're snoozin'
And you're losin' all your senses to the drink
But when all these folks so prim
Are swiggin' swill up to the brim
Wi' nips o' gin and numbered Pim's
wi' Sugar rubbed around the rim
Let them drink it till they drop
For the sly besotted Scot
He'll be breakin' out a bottle o' the best!
Aye, to hell wi' all the rest
Give me a bottle o' the best
The amber bead I'll down wi' speed
It's not bad taste or waste, just greed
And a whiskey-still I'll kill
I'll drink my fill and if I spill a gill
You know I will, I'll lick it off the floor!
I'll not touch Teachers*, Grants* or Haig*
Give me Bowemore* or Laphroaig*
Glen Farglas* in a glass,
Well you can throw the top away
For there's no use to pretend
Oh, you'll need the top again,
When you've broken out a bottle o' the best
And the English like their ale
Warm and flat straight out the pail
They aye slitter* wi' their bitter*
It would slaughter Jack The Ripper
And they sip their cider rough
They huff and puff and sniff their snuff
And as if that's not enough they start to sing!
Of when Jones's Ale was New*
And John Barleycorn's Fine Brew*
Oh, Fathom the Bowl*, The Barley Mow*,
Bring us a Barrel*, just a few;
But their songs are far surpassed
By the tinkle in the glass
When you've broken out a bottle o' the best!
And the Irish wi' their pride o' Erin
Think they can deride
Our golden water wi' their patter
When they're out there on the batter*
Sixteen hundred pints o' stout
A drinkin' bout without a doubt
And if they've no got the gout they start to dance
Father O'Flynn* and Larry O'Gaff*,
Biddy the Bowleife* for a laugh
The Young May Moon*, The Garryown*
And The Blackbird* drives them daft;
But their jigs have no appeal
To the Scot who likes to reel
When he's broken out a bottle o' the best!
Aye, a bottle o' the best
That's what it is, nay idle jest
No Mickey Finn, no rotgut gin
No bathtub wine that tastes like Vim*
Have no fear it's not like beer
Malt whiskey's strong and bright and clear
Aye, it's also bloody dear, but what the hell!
And it belts ye in the belly
Like a heavyweight Lochgelly*
A glow begins to grow,
Six in a row turns you to jelly
Then you dream perchance to sleep
And then you fall down in a heap
When you've broken out a bottle o' the best
*Nips - shots; Teacher's, Grant's, Haig - blended Scotch whiskies; Bowmore, Laphroaig, Glenfarclas - single malt Scotch whiskies; Slitter - to make a mess; Bitter - English beer; Jones Ale Was New, etc - English drinking songs; Batter - a drinking binge; Father O'Flynn, etc - Irish Dance tunes; Vim - a bathroom cleanser; Lochgelly - leather strap once used as punishment in Scottish schools. It was named after the town of Lochgelly where it was manufactured.