Life of Lord Drane

This man was fat and whole-head bold,
He reigned his realm as it was all the world
And after all wars, if truth to be told,
He ruled his lands from the house of gold.

He reigned all his life,
And he didnt know strife
Cause lord Drane he was
One of best not the worst

The winter was rough and whole full of terrors
But warm soup and stout has clouded those errors.
Lord Drane was, by all, the king of the Dale,
And he, of them all, knew a lot 'bout good ale.

He had drunk for a years
It was ale and the tears
Cause Lord Drane he was
One of drunkards of course

In spring all the wives was tried by all efforts,
To make their husbands to work any matters.
The wife of Lord Drane was rough and no settle
But last spring, that strange, she was crushed by a cattle,

He mourned for a while
For his wife and her smile,
But he was lord Drane
Not a big fan of grain

The sunlight was flowing and that's how he knew
That there ve come time to rip and to brew.
And soon liquid sunlight was flowing again
From barrel to cup and from mouth to vein.

He brewed every summer
And even the dumber
Knew Lord Drane's ale
The best one for sale.

In autumn all leaves in forests and parks,
Were golden, like beers in goblets and cups,
And song that was sung from top of the lungs,
Went down and stayed in bellies and hearts.

He sing all the songs,
Till the end as they longs.
But Lord Drane he was
Between singers the worst.

And times had changed times and even Lord Drane,
Start feeling himself as an old sick asspain.
He thought for a while and a year from that day,
He married a lady what else can you say?

He was old, but at last,
He had heir- total arse!
Who, from birth, was a pain,
But real son of Lord Drane.