We have toiled hard
In the sun,
We have defied the torments
To prove us men;
Is there no liquor
To cool our thirst?
When we now are back
From the fields
With the grain piled high
And the sweat on our backs
Deflecting to the wind;
When we see our children
Looking proudly into our faces
And our wives preparing our food;
When the sun defeated and shy
Hides behind the clouds,
We ask the rhetorical quiz:
Is there no liquor?
