High the drinkin’ age may be
You’ve suffered through it needlessly
For minors all across the land
Have come up with some daring plans.
Down yonder South, so they say
Moonshine has lit the way
Every fourth grade class, it’s said
Has a still behind the pissin’ shed.
Way out West, so it’s claimed
Children drink unashamed
Bartenders just as soon pour
A glass of milk or whiskey sour.
Up North in Yankee’s land
The apple harvest is quite grand!
When fridges ain’t cleaned, lo and behold,
Autumn cider turns a boozy gold!
In the Mid-west, I’ve heard
(Though the words were rather slurred)
Kids shouting in their whiney drawls,
“Gas only has 10% ethanol?!”
Now Uncle Sam should buy you a brew
And don’t you fuckin’ deserve it, too!?
But no matter what they legislate,
There’s a way to get wasted in every state.