John Stafford Smith - Slaves are they that heap up mountains - текст песни (слова)

Slaves are they that heap up mountains,
 Still desiring more and more!
 We'll carouse in Bacchus' fountains,
 Never dreaming to be poor.
 Give us then a cup of liquor,
 Fill it up unto the brim!
 For then methinks our wits grow quicker,
 When our brains in liquor swim.