Drink is the railway to hell. See also 'Railroad to Hell'
If you are determined and wishful to go
With blind debauchees to the regions of woe
Then go to the tap without any delay
And drink both your money and senses away
But never mind care for if you despair
It is the first train that will carry you there.
You have nothing to do but to guzzle and swill
As long as the landlord is willing to fill
For this is the line and the railroad to hell
Where drunkards and devils forever must dwell
So drink all you (b-p?) it is the chief plan
That ever was invented by devil for man.
This railroad it runs through parlours and snugs
And there you can sit around glasses and jugs
And have what you please such as gin, ale or rum
To please an old friend or an old drunken chum.
And this is the way to drink all the day
And then stagger home when you've spent all your pay.
Such taverns as these are the railroads to hell
Their barrels are engines which make men rebel
Their jugs and glasses which furnish the trains
Will empty you pockets and muddle your brains
And thus drunkards ride to hell in their pride
With nothing but steam? From the barrels inside.
We've railroads to heaven and railroads to hell
Where good men can ride and devils can dwell
Taverns for drunkards and churches for saints?
And quacks of all sorts to heal our complaints
So now we can ride to hell in our pride
On railroads of sin with blue devils inside.
The number of vaults that we have in this town
Has robbed the poor lass of her bonnet and gown
Her top nets? and feathers have gone to the pop
And many have lost both their credit and shop
Both young men and maids of very good trades
Have drunk all they earned and gone to the shades.
We've plenty of signs of horses and bulls
Of lions and dragons to serve drunken thruls (sic)
We've sign of angels and warriors and kings
Yes plenty of signs of good and bad things
But what's their design, why gin rum and wine
Sold her to intoxicate puppies and swine.
There's white and black bulls, two suns in a street
One swan and two lions that never taste meat.
And here you see women with bottles and jugs
Roll into these taverns and dr?n drinking ????gs
As brazen as brass to get a sly glass
In some of those shops where a fool cannot pass
Such poor silly women who pledge their rags
Are known by their petticoats hanging in jags
You'll see them at night with their heads wrapped in shawls
Not far from the dram shop or sign of three balls
With their husbands shirts, his trousers and coat
Running into the popshop to raise an odd quart.
Notes on the Song and Its Historical Context: