The Cyder Drinker Marches On

When Eve was in the garden
She plucked an apple fair
She pressed it into cider
And gave her mate his share
Then anger split the heavens
And they walked away in shame
And still I sit in exile
No scrumpy to my name

The night 'tis dark before the dawn
Take heart, the lonely cider drinker marches on

And the dogs of prohibition
Their voices dark and shrill
Denied our ancient birthright
And torched the cider mills
They banished from the new world
What belongs to you and me
Oh, the juice of nature's apples
From the finest of her trees

From Adge Cutler,
And The Wurzels
To the mighty Jamer Ford.
We trace this noble heritage
To the Glastonbury Tor
Now some may fight for silver
And some may fight for land
For scrumpy's sake, the cider punk
He makes his final stand

The night 'tis dark before the dawn
Take heart, the lonely cider drinker marches on

(Oi!)
(A-ha-ha!)

So come you lads and lasses
Put down that wretched brew
The Strongbow growers at Bulmers
They're not worthy of you
And seek you real cider
And set aside the rest
Until the day that golden sun
Comes rising in the west

The night 'tis dark before the dawn
Take heart, the lonely cider drinker marches on

Oh where has all the scrumpy gone?
Take heart, the lonely cider drinker marches on
(Oh!)
(Yes!)
(Ha-ha-ha-ha!)
(Cider!)