We'll drink to the down fall of tyrants
We'll drink to Christ, the Lord
We'll drink to the twelve Apostles
Who preached His holy word
We'll drink to the saints and martyrs
In the dismal days of yore

And whenever our glasses are empty
We'll remember one saint more
Yes, whenever our glasses are empty
We'll remember one saint more
We'll drink a health to the king, me boys
We'll drink a health to the queen
We'll drink to the royal princess
Wherever they are seen
We'll drink to the Dukes and the Duchesses
And to all their loyal men

And whenever our glasses are empty
We will fill them up again
Yes, whenever our glasses are empty
We will fill them up again
We'll drink to the Master and Mistress 
At their glorious harvest feast
We'll raise our glasses high, me boys
To the strength of malt and yeast
We'll drink a health to the landlord 
And his ale so pure and fine

And we hope that he'll forget to shout
When it comes to closing time
Yes, we hope that he'll forget to shout
When it comes to closing time
And now we'll drink to the ladies
We'll drink to all their charms
We'll drink to the pleasures that we find 
When we are in their arms
We'll hold them very tight, me boys
But we'll make one thing clear

It's good-by on the day that they say
They will pick up all our beer
It's good-by on the day that they say
They will pick up all our beer