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Brown Ale Crazy


Well he’s brown ale crazy - he’s brown ale mad

And they say the brown ale robbed him of the little bit of sense he had

It takes a dozen bottles - his thirst to satisfy

And all he needs is half a chance he’ll drink the brewery dry

Now you must ken my mate Geordie - he’s from Newcastle town

He’s a helluva man for drinkin’ - and he ‘specially like the brown

He drinks it by the gallon - he drinkls it by the gill

Nee matter how much brown he drinks - he never gets his fill

He’s a quiet man when sober - and he’s only five foot nowt

But mind when he has had a few - he puts himself about

He thinks he’s like Jack Dempsey - Muhammad Ali too

He’s take on half a public bar - and twenty boys in blue

Now the angels called on Geordie - said, “It’s time you cam up here”

But Geordie says, “Why had a mow Ah haven’t drunk me beer”

Now when at last he got up there St. Peter at the gate

Say, “Geordie lad yer welcome here - but leave that bloody crate!”

Tune: Football Crazy