Now I lay my grain in the tun,
I pray the day will turn out fun:
When at the end of this brew day,
Give me a ferment with no delay.
Now I add my water to the grain,
I ask the day is not in vain;
Guard the temperature at sixty-five,
Convert the sugars for yeast to thrive.
Now my grain is mashed to wort,
I hope the sparge will not get caught;
I tell you now if it does get stuck,
I’ll be screaming aloud “ah fire truck”.
Now I boil my wort and stare,
Add hops to strip your enamel bare;
Don’t forget to add some whirlock,
It’s nearly brew day done, says the clock.
Now I chill my wort to twenty,
Crack my a beer, the first of plenty;
Get the whirlpool spinning fast,
Trub falls out to be left ‘til last.
Now I move my wort from the kettle,
Into carboy, add yeast then allow to settle;
And guard my beer through its primary,
It is of the wild yeasts that I am wary.
Now I await the gravity to drop,
Taking bets of when it will stop;
1010 or 1008 how good is the yeast,
Down from 1060 it’s big at least!
Now I rack beer unto it’s keg,
Awaiting the end of the conditioning leg;
To pour a beer that I have made;
And taste the complex malts and cascade.