We’ll drink to all the cities
We’ll drink to all the towns
We’ll drink to all the pretties
We’ll drink to all the clowns
In Nepta I had brandy
that nearly burned my throat
The water came in handy
for holding up my boat
The Olantean whisky
does any soldier good
it makes the girls so frisky
as any bev’rage could
In Galliale I waited
for hours for my wine
My other needs I sated
with waitresses so fine
Much to my lamentation
in Dezra I did drink
Their dwelven fermentation
has the cemetery stink
In Granyauk I went beering
and much to my delight
the lasses I was fearing
were staying home that night
In Jimper and in Tweeple
the booze is rather strong
It helps the young and feeble
keep going all night long
In Firbos don’t go drinking
what sad advice is this?
What were the horsemen thinking?
It tastes like horses’ piss
The succubi of Demon Town
invited me, it’s true
But rather’n die by going down
I’d go for Tharbad brew