Well it seems like only yesterday we picked up our Guitars And played a song for free beer down at Peter Bell's old bar How were we to know it would ever get this far To see my glass could be my last so come on raise your jar And here's to you, and here's to me Here's to all the things that we'll never be Here's to all you bastards right or wrong Hoist your beer and give a cheer To all the things that you hold dear And fill 'em up again quick lads It's another drinkin' song Well, Singing songs to sell beer gave us licenses to play Join a band and see the world on ten rubles a day Drive a thousand miles play some tunes and then get laid In every bar no matter where, they're all the fuckin' same We're not good enough to be a jazz band We're not smart enough to write a hit song We're not cool enough to be a swing band We're just good enough, to fuck you up! I know it doesn't really matter what I say I know there's no one out there listening anyway And I could sing my songs about chicks and suits and cars But I'd rather sing my songs about drinking beers in bars Hoist your beer and give a cheer To all the things that you hold dear And fill 'em up again quick lads It's another drinkin' song And fill 'em up again quick It's another drinkin' Another drinkin' Another drinkin' song