Some talk of Molson's Export, and some of Genesee's

Of Pabst and Schiltz and Golden, and such great beers as these.

But of all the world's great lagers, there's none that can come near

To the brown, disgusting vileness, of the Brutish Viking Beer.

It's made from rotten parsnips, from hops, dead bears and snow.

And what gives it its colour, you do not want to know.

For of all the world's great lagers, there's none that can compare

With the smooth and subtle flavour, of the hide of a dead bear.

You open up a flagon, which makes a unique sound,

Like ten pounds of raw liver, being dropped upon the ground.

For of all the world's great lagers, there's none that can compete

With a brew that strips the paper, off a wall at fifty feet.

The potency of this brew, is a thing to cause great fears.

The hangovers yor risk can, persist for twenty years.

For of all the world's great lagers, there's none that stand beside

A brew that keeps your liver, alive long since you've died.

Some talk of Molson's Export, and some of Genesee's

Of Pabst and Schiltz and Golden, and such great beers as these.

But of all the world's great lagers, there's none that can come near

To the brown, disgusting vileness, of the Brutish Viking Beer.