Hops and barley will be the death of me [bad word] from wood and does you no good
Raise your glasses to the good men of Kent
Who worship the hops and the barley
The brew is on the go once again
Joe licks his lips and smiles
For every pint he downs he proves that he's a man
And [bad word] home full of vile
Next morning he vows to abstain
It'll be orange juice next time
But the power of this vine still haunts him
And he raises his glass to the sky
In the garden of England
Where real men could hold a pint
The hops were picked and the barley ripe
And beer was a way of life
Now we're told that Foster's the thing [bad word] a lager lout today
So I go to the bar and order a jar of county 1045