The Ballad of Whisky

You warm me from the inside out
        And fill me to the brim.
You charm me with your Scottish clout,
        With your amber color dim.

Now stoke the fire and pack your pipe,
        Fill your glasses well.
Your drink is not of common type,
        Please listen to it tell

Of island home and salt sea air,
        Of peat and smoke and fire;
Of mounts and woods and old men’s prayer,
        Of Andrew’s cross and English ire.

It sings the songs of Scotland
        With every single sip,
It sends me to my homeland
        When it meets my lips.