I'll take all the guts from a rotten old stiff And choose what I want with a taste or a whiff Pack them in jars and infuse them with yeast To brew up a batch for the next midnight feast My skill as a brewer has never been met Severed head '87 is my best vintage yet We drink till we're knackered on putrefied pus A chaser of lymph really gives me a rush Rot Gut Despoiling the dead for a high Rot Gut A quart of blood for a quart of rye Rot Gut Brandy from bile makes a killer flambe Rot Gut A jigger of rot gut makes my day My moonshine goes with any dish And makes belches taste like rancid fish Hot lung-buttered rum is my specialty du jour And an excellent rot gut hangover cure Rot Gut Despoiling the dead for a high Rot Gut A quart of blood for a quart of rye Rot Gut Brandy from bile makes a killer flambe' Rot Gut A jigger of rot gut makes my day My cup runneth over Bile gurgles down my throat A beer bong of unraveled guts Spills over with a suet-beer float A carton of booze made from rancid secretions Public hair garnish, the finishing touch Vittreous vino, we heartily glug But we'd never use alcohol as a crutch ROT GUT!