ANOTHER DISTILLERY (Copper Pot)

ANOTHER DISTILLERY We started out in the Kentucky hills, On the Bourbon Trail chasing thrills, Sippin' spirit of oak, smooth and neat, With every distillery, the story got sweet. We raised a glass to the setting sun, Another day down, but we’d just begun, With every sip, the world seemed brighter, Our spirits lifted, heads a little lighter. Another distillery, another taste, On this whiskey trail, no time to waste, From Bourbon barrels to Highland peaks, Chasing spirits that make us weak. Another distillery, another round, In every bottle, new stories found, From the hills of Kentucky to the Irish sea, Living the dream, through a glass of whiskey. We flew across to Scotland’s shore, Where the Scotch flows rich, and the land’s folklore, The Highlands called, so rugged and wild, We laughed out loud like a carefree child. At a distillery near a loch so still, We met a Highland cow by the old stone mill, That shaggy beast, with a gentle stare, As we sipped Scotch, without a care. Another distillery, another taste, On this whiskey trail, no time to waste, From Bourbon barrels to Highland peaks, Chasing spirits that make us weak. Another distillery, another round, In every bottle, new stories found, From the hills of Kentucky to the Irish sea, Living the dream, through a glass of whiskey. We flew across to Scotland’s shore, Where the Scotch flows rich, and the land’s folklore, The Highlands called, so rugged and wild, We laughed out loud like a carefree child. At a distillery near a loch so still, We met a Highland cow by the old stone mill, That shaggy beast, with a gentle stare, As we sipped Scotch, without a care. Another distillery, another taste, On this whiskey trail, no time to waste, From Bourbon barrels to Highland peaks, Chasing spirits that make us weak. Another distillery, another round, In every bottle, new stories found, From the hills of Kentucky to the Irish sea, Living the dream, through a glass of whiskey. Ireland called, with its rolling green, Where the Whiskey flows, pure and clean, We drank through Dublin, we raised our glass, To the stories of old, to moments past. In an Irish distillery, we found our way, a toast to tomorrow, a toast to yesterday, The whiskey burned warm, but it felt so right, Fuel for the fire that burned through the night. Another distillery, another taste, On this whiskey trail, no time to waste, From Bourbon barrels to Highland peaks, Chasing spirits that make us weak. Another distillery, another round, In every bottle, new stories found, From the hills of Kentucky to the Irish sea, Living the dream, through a glass of whiskey. Now we’re back home, but the memories burn, Of whiskey poured, and the lessons learned, We lived it hard, with every sip, A wild Ride, on a whiskey-fueled trip. Another distillery, another round, Raise your glass, let it pound, From the Bourbon Trail to the Highland cow, Here’s to whiskey, and to pushing through! Another distillery, another round Another distillery, more to be found Another distillery, another round Another distillery, fall to the ground