The Spirit: A Song

Let's hear it for the spirit.
Now lift your voice in song.
But if your arm's too weak, my friend,
You'd best not sing along.

So drink to the fellow with the scar on his chest
And drink to the ‘tender with the scowl on his face
And drink to the sailor who drinks with the best
And drink to the lady with the rouge and the lace.

Now bees make dew to honey
But it makes honey, mead!
To the wee ones give the cider,
Oh Jack is what I'll feed.

Let's hear it for the spirit.
Now lift your voice in song.
But if your arm's too weak, my friend,
You'd best not sing along.

So drink to the sailor with the scar on his chest
And drink to the ‘tender with the scowl on his face
And drink to the fellow who drinks with the best
And drink to the lady with the rouge and the lace.

Now the spirit can get nasty.
Yes, I've many spirits seen
At night when homeward crawlin'
Stay here--or face the fiend!

Let's hear it for the spirit.
Now lift your voice in song.
But if your arm's too weak, my friend,
You'd best not sing along.

So drink to the fellow with the scar on his chest
And drink to the sailor with the scowl on his face
And drink to the ‘tender who drinks with the best
And drink to the lady with the rouge and the lace.

The spirit sets the bubbles winkin'.
The spirit makes your fingers shake.
But I want spirit in your laughter,
If just for spirit's sake!

Let's hear it for the spirit.
Now lift your voice in song.
But if your arm's too weak, my friend,
You'd best not sing along.

So drink to the ‘tender with the scar on his chest
And drink to the lady with the scowl on her face
And drink to the fellow who drinks with the best
And drink to the sailor with the rouge and the lace.

So drink!