Jim Tyrrell - Sherman The Brave

The epic tale of a high-stakes drinking contest in Jim Tyrrell's sleepy home town. Originally from the album Three Pints Irish, now appearing as the very last track on Time For Another Round: Gold Edition. For more information about the artist visit http://www.jimtyrrell.net/.

Also: tomorrow (3/17) is, well, kind of a special day around here. Seems like it took forever to get here, but tomorrow is finally ST. PATRICK'S DAY! Jim Tyrrell will be on the radio playing his drinking songs to the central New Hampshire crowd, and playing a couple live shows in central New Hampshire. And you can stop by right here at http://www.drinkingsong.org/ and listen to a whole bunch of 'em too! Slainte!

Tonight I'll be at Lago in Meredith, playing a short set of drinking songs to prime the pump. Come on out and let's get the party started!



Powered by Podbean.com



Sherman The Brave
by Jim Tyrrell

Each one of you here with your glasses of beer
May not know just how lucky you are;
For each glass that we've drank we've got Sherman to thank
'Cause that quiet young man saved the bar

He grew up in town and was always around
But he spent his days largely unseen
He never caused trouble, just ordered a double
And sat by the popcorn machine

It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday in June
When John McCree came through the door
He said with a smile "I'll be stayin' a while
And I'll drink 'til there isn't no more"
They served him a round and he drank it right down
And he did it again and again
And the men grew concerned - if he's true to his word
There would be no more beer left for them

Old Sherman stood up and he emptied his cup
And he said "You've a challenger here -
At the break of the day, only one of us stays -
He's the one who can drink the most beer"
McCree said "That's great - but why must we wait
For the morning time to come along?"
Well Sherman said "Surely it's never too early -
And I do my best drinking at dawn"

The day was just breaking and Plymouth was shaking
With what was about to commence
On the common the Mayor said some sort of prayer
That didn't make very much sense
They stood at the table as best they were able
Each starin' the other one down
They knew without sayin' this game they were playin'
Determined the fate of the town

The contest began with a pilsner so bland
Neither one could be sure it was there
McCree said Let's do this - we'll never get through this
By swallowing glasses of air
They moved on ahead to a bold Irish red
That they both finished off thirstily
And next came a porter at eight and a quarter
Percent alcohol easily

The ale for round four left them asking for more
With neither man fading a bit
Both McCree and old Sherman were bound and determined
To see that the other man quit
They went on this way for most of the day
With the townfolk all watching amazed
McCree lost his swagger and started to stagger
While Sherman looked cool and unfazed

Round twenty-eight brought them an apple concoction
Whose equal had never been found
If you'd given that cider one flick from your lighter
Main Street would have burned to the ground
McCree took a sip and he started to slip
But he righted himself just in time
He finished his cup and he slowly looked up
To see Sherman with round twenty-nine

"What I've got in this glass I have saved for the last"
Sherman said as he served up the ale
It's a homebrew so great that it's banned in this state
And it landed the brewer in jail"
With a mischievous wink Sherman started to drink
And he carefully emptied his glass
But one whiff of the stuff was more than enough
To put John McCree on his ass

The town had been saved by old Sherman the brave
And the townspeople started to cheer
And Sherman said "Wait! If were all celebratin'
Then somebody buy us a beer!"
Well they said "Tell us first, Sherman, how can you thirst
For a bottomless bottle of grog?"
"It should take no explainin' - I've spent me life trainin'
Down at the old Lucky Dog"