Stick to the Craythur (a song in praise of bootleg whiskey, sung by Eddie Biggins)

Stick to the Craythur (The Humours of Whiskey) Let your quacks and newspapers be cutting their capers About curing the vapors the scratch and the gout With their medical potions, their serums and their lotions Upholding their notions, they're mighty put out. Who can tell the true physic to all that's pathetic And pitch to the divil, cramp, colic and spleen You'll know it I think if you take a big drink With your mouth to the brink of a jug of poitin So stick to the craythur the best thing in nature For sinking your sorrows and raising your joys Oh what botheration, no dose in the nation Can give consolation like poitin me boys. No liquid cosmetic to lovers athletic Or bodies pathetic can give such a bloom As the sweet by the powers in the garden of flowers Ever gave their own bowers such a darling perfume And this liquid so rare if you willingly share To be taking your hair when it's frizzled and dead Oh the sod has the merit to yield the true spirit So strong it will shake all th