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There's many drinks you'll drink, me lads, on every world that's new. |
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There's Saurian Brandy, Cranapple Schnapps, and a good old Tullamore Don't. |
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There's Busch and Beck and Bud and Bock and others dark and pale, |
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But I think you'll find the finest kind is Three-Oh-Seven Ale. |
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(chorus) |
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Three-Oh-Seven Ale, me lads, Three-Oh-Seven Ale, |
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The finest drink that any bar has ever had for sale, |
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It'll lay your whole damn world to waste, it'll make you fit and hale, |
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There's nothing that you'll ever taste like Three-Oh-Seven Ale, me lads, |
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Three-Oh-Seven Ale. |
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It started out at M.I.T. one lazy summer day, |
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When a couple of the frat-boy techies started in to play, |
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They'd caught up on their schedule with a couple hours to kill, |
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So they fitted up the cyclotron and made themselves a still. |
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(chorus) |
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They added choice ingredients to brew a little brew, |
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But they didn't know the wires were crossed in Chamber Number Two. |
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A tiny bit of space got folded, things were looking queer -- |
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They turned the spout and then came out the world's first Hyper-Beer. |
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(chorus) |
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It bubbled and it burbled and it glowed a fizzly green, |
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And what it did to test equipment, frankly, was obscene. |
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It took awhile to find a vial it wouldn't burst to flame, |
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Then they measured out its potency, and that's how it was named. |
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(slower) |
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There's many drinks you'll drink, me lads, but this one beats them all: |
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One hundred fifty-three and one-half percent alcohol, |
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A beer, brewed in a tesseract, that'll shoot you through the roof -- |
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And if you don't believe me, I've got lots and lots of proof. |
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(final chorus) |
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Three-Oh-Seven Ale, me lads, Three-Oh-Seven Ale, |
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The finest drink that any bar has ever had for sale, |
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It'll lay your whole damn world to waste, it'll make you fit and hale, |
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It sticks to your mouth like library paste, |
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With a stronger kick than toxic waste, |
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There's nothing that you'll ever taste |
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Like Three-Oh-Seven Ale! |
