Historical Folk Lyrics
"Drinking Song"

Drink that rot gut, drink that rot gut,
Drink that red eye, boys;
It don't make a damn wherever we land,
We hit her up for joy.

We've lived in the saddle and ridden trail,
Drink old Jordan, boys,
We'll go whooping and yelling, we'll all go a-helling;
Drink her to our joy.

Whoop-ee! Drink that rot gut, drink that red nose,
Whenever you get to town;
Drink it straight and swig it mighty,
'Til the world goes round and round!