| Many a year I have worked in these parts
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| Running this inn that ain’t marked on no charts
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| Though its location to many is known
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| If you’re to find it you have to be shown
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| Through methods long hidden we carefully craft
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| A beverage to rival the Huntmaster’s draught
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| The mere smell of which, the Gods would entice
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| And them that know call it that Famous Ol' Spiced
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| Here sits a man, a smuggler by trade
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| A-boastin' of all of the money he’s made
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| Runnin' his liquor to here and to there
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| Travellin' all over and peddlin' his wares
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| He says he’s had beers from Prussia and wines
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| Taken from all of the very best vines
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| But none of these tipples could ever suffice
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| So I’ll bring him a jug of that Famous Ol' Spiced
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| Oh, pour me a slug of it
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| Throw me a mug of it
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| Bring me a jug of that Famous Ol' Spiced
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| In walks a sailor all battered and blue
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| Fallen afoul of his captain and crew
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| They’d pulled in to port, their cargo was stacked
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| But three hours later he’s caught in the act
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| Acquainting himself with the skipper’s own wife
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| This fool was lucky to leave with his life
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| He’s not here for doctors or friendly advice
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| He just wants a jug of that Famous Ol' Spiced
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| Oh, pour me a slug of it
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| Throw me a mug of it
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| Bring me a jug of that Famous Ol' Spiced
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| For men of the sea go as fast as they come
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| And leave little more than the tales they have spun
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| So sing me your sermon and pay me my price
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| And I’ll give you a jug of that Famous Ol' Spiced
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| Oh, pour me a slug of it
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| Throw me a mug of it
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| Bring me a jug of that Famous Ol' Spiced |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song That Famous Ol' Spiced , by - Alestorm. Song from the album Black Sails at Midnight, in the genre Фолк-метал