And then stagger home when you’ve swallowed your pay.
Such Taverns as these are Railroads to Hell,
Their barrels are engines which make men rebel;
Their jugs and their glasses which furnish their Trains,
Will empty their pockets and muddle their 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 where Devils can dwell;
We’ve Taverns for drunkards and Churches for Saints,