Back In The Clydesdale

C Em D G Badabums G C G I went to the pub after working all day, And ordered a slow Guinness Stout, C G A But the Yuppies were yapping so loud on their cellphones The barman did not hear me D shout. G C D He brought me a glass and a bottle of Bud, And set them down in front of me; C Em C G Well, I coughed and I sputtered in pure disbelief, Then I sang out this chorus with glee. D G C G Ohhh – Put that Budweiser back in the Clydesdale, It‟s not the right flavor for me. C G A D The color‟s all wrong and there‟s not enough foam, And it‟s got all the kick of weak tea. G C G Pull me a pint of that good Guinness stout With a body you cannot see through; Put that C EM C G Budweiser back in the Clydesdale, boys, And pour me a beer that is true. C Em D G Badabums G C Then the waitress came by when I‟d finished my first one, A frazzled young woman G named Jill; C G A D She snatched up my empty without even looking And went off to get a refill. G C She brought me a glass of some pale fizzy liquid, And said, “Here‟s the Bud you asked D for C G A Well I gave her a glare that would knock down a moose, And I sang out this chorus once G more. D G C G Ohhh – Put that Budweiser back in the Clydesdale, It‟s not the right flavor for me. C G A D The color‟s all wrong and there‟s not enough foam, And it‟s got all the kick of weak tea. G C G Pull me a pint of that good Guinness stout With a body you cannot see through; Put that C Em C G Budweiser back in the Clydesdale, boys, And pour me a beer that is true. C Em D G Badabums G C G So if ever you‟re seeking a beer with great flavor To round out your day or your meal, C G A D And they serve you a Miller, a Coors or a Schlitz Or some other brand that ain‟t real, G C G If the “King Of Beers” is your only selection, I hope that you‟ll answer like this: C G A Put that Budweiser back in the Clydesdale, boys, I won‟t drink twelve ounces of that G lousy beer. D G C G Ohhh – Put that Budweiser back in the Clydesdale, It‟s not the right flavor for me. C G A D The color‟s all wrong and there‟s not enough foam, And it‟s got all the kick of weak tea. G C G Pull me a pint of that good Guinness stout With a body you cannot see through; Put that C Em C Budweiser back in the Clydesdale, boys, And pour me a beer that is, pour me a beer that G is, pour me a beer that is true. C Em D G Badabums