He deserves a heros medal
For the many lives he's saved
And upon the role of honour
His name should be engraved
He deserves a lot of credit
For the way he stands the strain
For the yearns he has to swallow
Would drive most of us insane
He must pay the highest licence
He must pay the highest rent
He must battle with the bank
And pay them tеn percent
And when it comеs to paying bills
He's always on the spot
He pays for what he sells
Whether you pay him or not
And when you walk into his bar
He will greet you with a smile
Be you dressed in overalls
Or a banker dressed in style
If you're English, Irish, Scotch or Welsh
It doesn't matter what
He'll greet you like a gentleman
Unless you prove that you're not
And the clergy in the pulpit
And the preacher in the hall
Will assure him that the churches
Are against them one and all
But when the church plans
To hold a ballot, or bazar
They'll start by selling tickets
To the man behind the bar
When he retires a job well done
To await six feet of soil
Discards his coat and apron
No more on earth to toil
As St. Peter sees him coming
He will leave those gates ajar
For he knows he's had his hell on earth
The man, behind the bar
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
