ALBUMS ❯

TRACKS

1. Whisky and Death
2. Whiskey Lullaby
3. All the Whisky Men
4. Magic Ship of Dreams
5. Johnnie and Me
6. Shackleton’s Hut
7. Jasper (Jack) D.
8. Slow as Molasses
9. Hemingway’s Whiskey
10. The Sentosa Sails Away
11. Pestering Jim
12. McGinty’s Meal and Ale
13. Whisky Cathedral
14. Ugly Betty
15. All Summer Long

LYRICS

Whisky and Death

When I die lay me in my grave
In a coffin made out of barrel staves
I could face eternity after I croak
In a box made of whisky-soaked oak

Say goodbye to me with a wake
After you make sure there’s no mistake
Lay all my whiskies out in a line
And drink to me one last time

When I get to St Peter’s gate
I’ll dress up nice and I won’t be late
I guess I won’t have too long to wait
Because everyone else in the line
Will smell of the vault and the tomb
But the angels’ eyes will shimmer and shine
When they smell my malt perfume

When I get to St Peter’s gate
I’ll dress up nice and I won’t be late
I guess I won’t have too long to wait
Because everyone else in the line
Will smell of the vault and the tomb
But the angels’ eyes will shimmer and shine
When they smell my malt perfume

All my life I followed one rule
Be good, be cool, don’t act the fool
And the best reward for a hard-working man
Is a decent dram in your hand

After death – if you hear from me
Que pasa hombre – Aaieee I’m a zombie
Don’t run away – grab a whisky instead
And smash it over my head

Come on Death then where is thy sting?
Where are your demons with the torn black wings
Carmina Burana let everyone sing
I’ll look you in the eye
Though you’re colder than Lady MacBeth
We’re scared to live when we’re scared to die
I’ll take whisky and death

Take me to the far side
Take me to the dark side
Let me feel the edge of the knife
I see a pale horse
And a fiery cross
So take me to the water
Take me to the water
Take me to the water of life

You prowl in the dark with your crows and cats
Red-eyed rats and graveyard bats
If I pour a dram in the blackest night
It shines with a golden light

The universe is cold and vast
So raise a glass to me after I’ve passed
Life is as short as a Disney cartoon
You know your turn will come soon

Come on Death then where is thy sting?
Where are your demons with the torn black wings
Carmina Burana let everyone sing
I’ll look you in the eye
Though you’re colder than Lady MacBeth
We’re scared to live when we’re scared to die
I’ll take whisky and death

Whiskey Lullaby

She put him out like the burnin’ end of a midnight cigarette
She broke his heart, he spent his whole life tryin’ to forget
We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind
Until the night

He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away her memory
Life is short, but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees
We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said, “I’ll love her till I die.”
And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby
La la la la la la la

The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself
For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath
She finally drank her pain away a little at a time
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind
Until the night

She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away his memory
Life is short, but this time it was bigger
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees
We found her with her face down in the pillow
Clinging to his picture for dear life
We laid her next to him beneath the willow
While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby
La la la la la la la

All the Whisky Men

I poured a dram and I closed my eyes
I’m in a room with the whisky men
All those cool and colourful guys
From nowadays to way back when
Five hundred years of the Whisky Men
Heroes and characters one and all
From monacled Johnny and Charlie Maclean
To Friar John Cor and his twenty-five bolls

All the Whisky Men
I’m in their company
All the Whisky Men
Having a dram with me
Tommy Dewar’s burning my ears
With all the tales of his latest trip
Old Glenlivet just appeared
Packing two pistols on his hip
Long John’s longer than little John Black
But he’s not blacker than old Long John
Jim McEwan never holds back
His wonderful stories rolling on and on

All the Whisky Men
I’m in their company
All the Whisky Men
Having a dram with me

Bernasconi has the biggest whisky bar
Two and a half thousand to be precise
Gunter Sommer has the smallest by far
No wine no vodka no beer no ice
Richard Paterson in a very nice tie
Is throwing stuff around like he tends to do
Angels are teaching Michael Jackson to fly
He’s a Yorkshire Lithuanian atheist Jew

All the Whisky Men
I’m in their company
All the Whisky Men
Having a dram with me

Jim Murray’s preaching from his bible again
And Restless Peter can’t keep still
All the Grants are down from the Glen
Pip Hills is grilling Dr Bill
I see two guys who are having a row
Aeneas Coffey and Robert Stein
It’s time to open some whisky now
Pour them a dram and they’ll get along fine

All the Whisky Men
I’m in their company
All the Whisky Men
Having a dram with me

Suddenly my dream goes Pop!
All the whisky men disappear
I didn’t want this dream to stop
I’m softly sobbing in my beer
A door flies open with a sudden noise
Shrieks of laughter and bows and frills
Now I don’t miss those whisky boys
I’m surrounded by the whisky girls

All the whisky girls
I’m in their company
All the whisky girls
Having a dram with me

All the whisky girls
I’m in their company
All the whisky girls
Laughing and teasing me

Magic Ship of Dreams

Butts are bumping and barrels are bouncing
And hoggies are hammering along
All aboard the magic ship of dreams
Taking whisky down to Major Tom

His name is Thomas Ewers
And his crew are busy beavers
Working hard from noon till morn
He’ll fix the shakes and fevers
Of the spiritual believers
They’ll be pacified in Paderborn

Butts are bumping and barrels are bouncing

He’s got the Bunnahabhain
And he’s got the Bruichladdich
Auchentoshan, Allt a Bhainne and Tamdhu
Ardmore, Bowmore,
Dalmore, Tormore
Any dram with ’more’ will do.

Butts are bumping and barrels are bouncing

When the wife is scowlin’
And the weans are howlin’
And everything you handle falls apart
Thomas is the fixer
His magical elixir
Will kindle up the flame inside your heart.

Butts are bumping and barrels are bouncing

In his warehouse shoppie
You can try a little droppie
Poured with a sympathetic smile
Let’s raise a glass to Thomas
He delivers on his promise
And he’ll always go the extra mile

Butts are bumping and barrels are bouncing

He takes in deliveries
From dozens of distilleries
Nothing but the best for Tam the man
There’s something of our history
And just a little mystery
In every single golden dram

Butts are bumping and barrels are bouncing

Johnnie and Me

There’s a country in my memory
I still visit now and then
A place of innocence and harmony
Before the shadows cast by men
Sometimes it seems
That there’s only one guy
On whom you really can depend
And I say ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
I’m taking Johnnie Walker home with me tonight

Looking back as far as I can see
It’s a sad rear mirror view
If my life has been a tapestry
It’s all been done in black and blue
And I beat myself up
With all those ’might have beens’
But I don’t know what else to do
So I sing ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
I’m taking Johnnie Walker home with me tonight

When I’m feeling small
I can rely on him to call
Even in the middle of the night
Johnnie comes round
And he says ‘Ooh Baby
Everything will be alright
Just hold me tight’

I’m not looking for no sympathy
Don’t want to sound like Patsy Cline
Yes I wish I’d done things differently
But at least the choices were all mine
Cos if you don’t take chances
Then your dreams can’t fly
They’ll only wither on the vine
So I say ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
I’m taking Johnnie Walker home with me tonight

All you other guys
Just get over it and dry your eyes
Maybe some day your turn will come
But not tonight!
Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Tonight’s gonna be
Just Johnnie and me

Sometimes love is like a lottery
Sometimes a roller coaster ride
Broken dreams and broken crockery
A broken heart you try to hide
I lost my way, sometimes
I even lost hope
But I never lost my pride
So I’m singing ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh
I’m taking Johnnie Walker home with me tonight

I’m taking Johnnie, he’s my honey
He’s always worth the money
I’m taking Johnnie Walker home with me tonight

Shackleton’s Hut

Gonna fly across to Jamaica
Then I’ll swim to the Yucatan
I’ll get to Venezuela
Any way I can
I’ll cycle down the Andes
Right to the very tip
At Tierra del Fuego
I’ll climb aboard a ship

Across the Weddell Sea
That ship will carry me
Gonna cleanse my soul
At the Southern Pole

My life has lost its meaning
I think I’m in a rut
It’s time for some spring cleaning
And a month or two in Shackleton’s hut

I won’t take anything with me
Except for my teddy bear
I guess it could get lonely
Depends how long I’m there
I won’t miss television
It’s a poison in my brain
A drop of Shackleton’s whisky
Will help to keep me sane

Underneath the floor
There’s sixty bottles or more
Gonna dig a little hole
At the Southern Pole

My life has lost its meaning…
Now Ernest was a god guy
Respected by all his men
He took them to the world’s edge
And brought them back again
He embraced adventure
Every single day
And he knew the power of whisky
To keep the cold at bay

Oh Shackleton could be
A role model for me
I’m gonna rock and roll
At the Southern Pole

My life has lost its meaning…

Now I’ve reached Antarctica
I landed with the tide
But a friendly penguin told me
The hut’s on the other side
I guess I’d better start walking
It’ll help to keep me warm
A little bit of exercise
Never did me any harm

Pingo come with me
I could use some company
We’ll waddle and we’ll stroll
To the Southern Pole

My life has lost its meaning…

Jasper (Jack) D.

I took a little trip to Lynchburg, Moore County, Tennessee
I wanted to visit the spiritual home of good old Jasper (Jack) D.
But when I got to Lynchburg I couldn’t get a drop to try
The man in the place laughed in my face and said ’Sorry, Lynchburg’s dry’.

Dry as a bone, dry as a stone
Dry as fake tears down the telephone
Dry as tumbleweed rollin’ in the dust
Dry as a flame on a flake of rust
There’s nowhere as dry as the spiritual home
Of good old Jasper (Jack) D.

I must have looked kind of bewildered ’cos the man began to explain
He said ’Lynchburg’s dry as a Scotchman’s purse, no matter how much it rains.
If you ask for a drink in Lynchburg you’re always gonna be refused
Since nineteen-0-nine this town of mine is a place where you can’t buy booze’.

Dry as a well when the oil is gone
Dry as toast with no butter on
Dry as a tick in a tiger’s coat
Dry – so dry it sticks in my throat
There’s nowhere as dry as the spiritual home
Of good old Jasper (Jack) D.

Jack Daniel wouldn’t like it
It would make him cry
The home of his Tennessee Sour Mash
Is dry a shovel of cigar ash
The last place you can make a splash
Is here – ’cos Lynchburg’s dry.

’You can hunt like Davy Crockett, you can lie like Monica’s Bill
You can wheedle and plead till your eyeballs bleed but you can’t get a quarter gill
The angels here get plenty – poor sinners we get none
So don’t think twice, take my advice – and head for Kentucky, Son!’

Dry as your mouth after you’re sick
Dry as an oven for baking a brick
Dry as a gulch where warthogs play
Or a sinner’s tongue on Judgement Day
There’s nowhere as dry as the spiritual home
Of good old Jasper (Jack) D.

Slow as Molasses

Slow as molasses – a glacial pace
Slow as the lines etched by time on your face
Slow as two continents drift apart
Slow as the healing of a broken heart

Time is a healer – that’s the simple truth
The wisdom of age is paid by the folly of youth
Time takes no prisoners, takes no heed
It goes so slow when you’ve a need for speed

Baby it takes time
There’s no other way
If you want to see that firefly shine
You have to wait till the close of day

We do what we have to with power and heat
To get from the barley something charmingly sweet
But then the best thing we can do
Is to let the years slowly trickle through

There’s a rhythm of livin’ that we’re wise to keep
We work and we play all the day – and then we sleep
Whisky too has its day and its night
The more it sleeps the more it gives delight

Baby it takes time
There’s no other way
Nobody said it was a crime
To keep something back for a rainy day

So savour the memory of all that’s passed
Think of the whisky as history in a glass
Let your mind drift to way back when
Was your life any sweeter then?

Baby it takes time
There’s no other way
You can find that elusive rhyme
Don’t be content with a bent cliché.

Slow as molasses – a glacial pace
Slow as the lines etched by time on your face
Slow as two continents drift apart
Slow as the healing of a broken heart

Hemingway’s Whiskey (Guy Clark)

Hemingway’s whiskey
Warm and smooth and mean
Even when it burns
It’ll always finish clean
He didn’t like it watered down
He took it straight up and neat
If it was bad enough for him
You know it’s bad enough for me
Hemingway’s whiskey

Hemingway’s whiskey

You know it’s tough out there
A good muse is hard to find
Living one word to the next
One line at a time
There’s more to life than whiskey
There’s more to words than rhyme
Sometimes nothing works
Sometimes nothing shines
Like Hemingway’s whiskey

Hemingway’s whiskey

Sail away, sail away
As the day draws dim
Live hard, die hard
This one’s for him

Hemingway’s whiskey
Warm and smooth and mean
Even when it burns
It’ll always finish clean
He didn’t like it watered down
He took it straight up and neat
If it was bad enough for him
You know it’s bad enough for me
Hemingway’s whiskey

Hemingway’s whiskey

Sail away, sail away
Three sheets to the wind
Live hard, die hard
This one’s for him

Hemingway’s whiskey

Hemingway’s whiskey

The Sentosa Sails Away

The Sentosa sails away
And the sun is going down
It’s been another working day
Crazy in its way
But now the sun is going down

The city noise is left behind
And the water is so calm
I’ve got nothing on my mind
In fact I’m feeling fine
I am happy where I am

We’ve got glasses in our hands
And a smile on every face
It’s not hard to understand
That anyone could find
A taste of heaven in this place

The Sentosa sails away…

Sorrow’s never far away
And we wonder where it all might end
But just for today
We’ve got good whisky and good friends.

Captain Kurt is in command
His reputation is well known
With strong coffee in his hand
For he never takes a dram
He will bring us safely home

The city noise is left behind
And the water is so calm
I’ve got nothing on my mind
In fact I’m feeling fine
I am happy where I am

The Sentosa sails away…
The Sentosa sails away…

Pestering Jim

The wicker man has big strong thumbs
And with his clever, calloused hands
He quickly flicks those willow wands
And separate strands he pulls and bends
And tightly tucks them in
Before he snips the ends

I’m pestering Jim wi’ a glass in my hand
Just one more story Jim – just one more dram
No-one can tell them the way that you can
You’re a true legend of Islay

I’ve travelled to lands – both far and near
But nowhere to Islay at all can compare
It gladdens my heart – it’s a joy to be here
With Jim McEwan on Islay

And I’m pestering Jim…

Sing of the sunset the sea and the sand
Sing to the seals that come close to the land
Sing of the folk and the wonderful drams
With Jim McEwan on Islay

And I’m pestering Jim…

Jim is the laddie that we love the best
He should have medals all over his chest
A man of his island – a man of the West
He’s a true legend of Islay

And I’m pestering Jim…

Jim we salute you and all that you’ve done
In the world of whisky, Jim – you are the one
And Islay is proud to call you her son
The cheekiest laddie on Islay

And I’m pestering Jim…

So fill up your glasses – right to the brim
Let us all stand for a tribute to Jim
Calmac should name a boat after him
He’s a true legend of Islay

And I’m pestering Jim…

McGinty’s Meal and Ale

This is no a sang o’ love an’ it’s no a sang o’ money,
Faith it’s naethin’ verra peetifu’, it’s naethin’ verra funny;
But there’s hielan’ Scotch, there’s Lowland Scotch, there’s Butter Scotch an’ honey,
If there’s nane o’ them at a’ then there’s a mixture o’ the three.
An’ there’s nae a word o’ beef, brose, sowens, sauty bannocks na’
Nor pancakes, paes eggs for them wi’ dainty stammicks;
But it’s a’ aboot a meal and ale that happened at Balmannock,
At McGinty’s meal and ale, whaur the pig ga’ed on the spree.

CHORUS: They were howlin’ in the kitchen like a caravan o’ Tinkies,
And some were playin’ ping-pong, and tiddely widdely winkies;
Up the ha’ and doon the ha’ ye niver saw such jinkies,
As McGinty’s meal and ale, whaur the pig ga’ed on the spree.

Noo McGinty’s pig had broken loose, an wannert tae the lobby,
Whaur he open shoved the pantry door, an’ cam’ upon the toddy;
And he took kindly tae the stuff like ony human body,
At McGinty’s meal and ale, whaur the pig ga’ed on the spree.
Miss McGinty she ran ben the hoose, the wey was dark an’ crookit,
She ga’ed heelster gowdie ower the pig, for it she never lookit;
And she lat oot a skirl that wad hae paralysed a teuchit,
At McGinty’s meal and ale, whaur the pig ga’ed on the spree.

CHORUS

Johnnie Murphy he ran efter her, and ower the pig was leapin’
Whan he trampit on an ashet that was sittin’ fu’ o’ dreepin’
An’ he fell doon and peel’t his croon, an’ couldna’ haud fae greetin’
At McGinty’s meal and ale, whaur the pig ga’ed on the spree.
And the pantry shelf cam’ ricklin’ doon and he was lyin’ kirnin’
Amang saft soap, pease meal, corn flour and yirnin’
Like a gollach amang trickle but McGinty’s wife was girnin’
At the soss upon her pantry flair an’ widnae lat him be.

CHORUS

Syne they ran skirlin’ tae the door but fan’ that it was tuggit,
And aye it held the faster, aye the mair they rug an’ tug it;
Till McGinty roared tae bring an axe, he wadna’ be humbuggit,
Na’ nor lockit in his ain hoose, and that he lat them see.
Sae the wife cam’ trailin’ wi’ an axe, an’ through the bar was hacket,
And open flew the door at aince, sae ticht they a’ were packet,
And a’ the crew cam rummlin’ oot like tatties frae a backet,
At McGinty’s meal and ale, whaur the pig ga’ed on the spree.

CHORUS

They had spurtles, they had tattie chappers, faith they werena’ jokin’
They swore they’d gar the pig claw whaur he was never yokin’
But by this time the lad was fou’ and didna’ care a dockin’
At McGinty’s meal and ale, whaur the pig ga’ed on the spree.
Oh! there’s eelie pigs an’ jeelie pigs, an’ pigs for haudin’ butter,
Aye but this pig was greetin’ fou’ and rowin’ in the gutter,
Till McGinty and his foreman trailed him oot upon a shutter,
Frae McGinty’s meal and ale, whaur the pig ga’ed on the spree.

CHORUS

Miss McGinty took the thing tae heart, an’ hidet in her closet,
An’ they rubbit Johnnie Murphy’s head wi’ turpentine an’ roset;
Syne they harl’t him wi’ meal and ale, ye really wid suppose it
He had sleepit in a mason’s trough and risen tae the spree.
Oh! It’s weary fi’ the barley bree, an’ weary fi’ the weather,
For it’s keetcherin’ ’mang dubs an’ drink, they gangna’ weel thegither;
But there’s little doot McGinty’s pig is wishin’ for anither
O’ McGinty’s meal and ale, whaur the pig ga’ed on the spree.

CHORUS

Whisky Cathedral

I dream of a place on the Rinns of Islay
A place where I’m al-ways longing to be
A place where the fluttering wings of angels–
Are constantly cooling and comforting me

There’s wood from the Ozark oaks of Missouri
And wood from the fab-led forests of France
And every cask contains golden treasure—
That’s why the angels all play harps and dance

In the warehouse at Bruichladdich
I drink therefore I am
A whisky cathedral
Where angels are singing
In praise of glorious drams

The names that I see are the lines of a litany
Margaux, Petrus, – Latour and Lafitte
Gonzalez Byass, Jim Beam and Jack Daniels
Our spirits are rais-ed and our joy is complete.

Some people say that the whisky is sinful
And may lead you down – into the abyss
But whisky can light up the road to salvation
A heavenly dra-m is a moment of bliss

In the warehouse…

And what better place than the Rinns of Islay
To fondly reca-ll my whisky career
So many moments and so many blessings
And most of the best ones have all happened here

In the warehouse…

In pra-a-aise, pra-a-aise, in pra-a-a-aise, i—n praise of glorious drams

Ugly Betty

I love my Ugly Betty
OK she’s rough and ready
But what she gives me in the end
May not be nutritious
But it’s suspiciously delicious
She will always be my friend

When I dance with Ugly Betty
It always feels so right
Together we glide
Side by side
Beneath the pale moonlight

Whatever mood I’m in
I’m in the mood for gin
I hear those violins
And I am gone

My love for Ugly Betty
Gets me giddy and unsteady
My sense of balance gets confused
I stagger and I stumble
I mumble and I fumble
My feet get tripped up by my shoes

When I kiss my Ugly Betty
It’s always sexy and slow
She tingles my lip
And the little tender tip
Of my tongue gets a tickly glow

Whatever mood I’m in
I’m in the mood for gin
I hear those violins
And I am gone

When I’m with Ugly Betty
Dreams fall like confetti
Happy thoughts raining down on me
My cup is flowing over
I’m rolling in the clover
Gee I love my G and T

When I talk to Ugly Betty
She doesn’t have a lot to say
But between me and you
I can talk enough for two
And Betty smiles to tell me that’s OK

Whatever mood I’m in
I’m in the mood for gin
It surely is no sin
If it dribbles down my chin
And I’ve got this crazy grin
Like I’m in a loony bin
Please call my next of kin
Cos I am gone
Solid gone

All Summer Long

It was 1989, my thoughts were short my hair was long
Caught somewhere between a boy and man
She was seventeen and she was far from in-between
It was summertime in Northern Michigan

Ahh Ahh Ahh
Ahh Ahh Ahh

Splashing through the sand bar
Talking by the campfire
It’s the simple things in life, like when and where
We didn’t have no internet
But man I never will forget
The way the moonlight shined upon her hair

And we were trying different things
We were smoking funny things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking ’bout tomorrow
Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long
Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long

Catching Walleye from the dock
Watching the waves roll off the rocks
She’ll forever hold a spot inside my soul
We’d blister in the sun
We couldn’t wait for night to come
To hit that sand and play some rock and roll

While we were trying different things
And we were smoking funny things
Making love out by the lake to our favorite song
Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking ’bout tomorrow
Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long
Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long

Now nothing seems as strange
as when the leaves began to change
Or how we thought those days would never end
Sometimes I’ll hear that song
and I’ll start to sing along
And think man I’d love to see that girl again