Come listen my friends I've a true tale to tell
Of a night at the Windsor's when it all went to hell.
The ships had come in and the tavern ran out
Of Lambeck's and lagers and bitters and stouts.
The patron it dried oh now what shall we drink?
So we offered them whiskey with a flirtatious wink
We offered them gin, or at least what they'd say,
But they'd have none of that for it was cider they craved.
Oh we'll never, no never, no never again
If we live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten,
Never pour Windsor's Cider on a bet or a dare
For no matter your station your better beware.
We lasses were singing a good, bawdy tune
Suggestive enough to make younger men swoon.
And soon each one had her bonnet unlaced
To keep up with working at a furious pace.
The juice of the apple was never so hard
We poured it flagon, we poured it by yard
We filled every tankard, then filled them again
This unceasing workload near drove us insane.
The cider was flowing and the night was still young
When a Scotsman up on to the bar top was flung.
We all gave applause and with no sense of guilt
Had a really fun show of what's under his quilt.
The cavalry master stepped in for a drink
but he's not as [faschool?] as you ladies may think.
He's ridden more horses then queen's court can count
But twas on that night that he learned how to mount.
The bonnet was filled with strong men of the sea
Who required more sustenance than treacle and tea.
With a months worth of wages and one night on shore
They roared for more cider till like whores they were sore.
The monks in the corner they started to fight (huh!)
for who in their number owed what for the night.
The constable showed up to shut the place down
So the party moved out to the streets of the town.
The shire awoke to the stomping of feet
And the queen's guard arose and they took to the street.
But no man in the army could shut the crowd up
Until Bessie herself came and rounded us up.
Now happy Jack Ale has a drink of a name
And Johnny Jumpup sent good men to the place.
For the cider we served on that ill fatten night
knocked the town to the ground and then set it up right.
Oh we'll never, no never, no never again
If we live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten,
Never pour Windsor's Cider on a bet or a dare
For no matter your station your better beware. (x3)