[Verse 1] Down by the Liffey where the black gates stand, Smoke curls slow o’er the barley land, Copper kettles hum and the iron wheels gleam, Every bolt and piston chasing a dream. From malt and fire to the river’s foam, This roaring hall is a brewer’s home. [Chorus] Salute to the machine, boys, raise your hand, Let the gears sing loud through the stout-dark land, From the grain to the glass let the magic be seen, Ah, hail to the heart of the brewing machine. Oh the barley and flame and the sweet brown stream— We toast the stout and the grand machine! [Verse 2] Roasted barley crackles black as night, Steam rolls thick in the lantern light, The mash tuns turn with a thunderin’ sound, While the scent of sweet malt drifts all around. Yeast wakes up like a choir unseen, Singin’ life in the vats so wide and green. [Chorus] Salute to the machine, boys, raise your hand, Let the gears sing loud through the stout-dark land, From the grain to the glass let the magic be seen, Ah, hail to the heart of the brewing machine. Oh the barley and flame and the sweet brown stream— We toast the stout and the grand machine! [Verse 3] Arthur’s dream in the iron and stone, A thousand barrels the pipes have known, From Dublin town to the far blue sea, The stout runs black as a memory. Lift your pint when the day is done, For the brew and the gears that make it run. [Bridge] Hear the rhythm of hammer and drum, Like a temple chant when the brewers come, From Bengal’s song to the Irish quay, Voices rise in harmony. Praise the craft and the copper sheen— Namo Jantra… the mighty machine. [Final Chorus] Salute to the machine, lads, loud and clear, For the stout that warms every wandering year, From the fields of green to the barley’s sheen, We sing for the soul of the brewing machine. So raise your glass where the black stout flows— And bless the gears wherever it goes.
