Attention Dogfish Head Closet Songwriters: Time To Get Your Woody On!!
You’ve seen Woody’s likeness on our labels, posters, etc., and you’ve sang This Land is Your Land a hundred gazillion times but did you know…
HE WAS A HOMEBREWER?
According to Sam, Woody was not just the Father of the American Protest Song, he was the Father of Extreme Home brewing!
So here’s the deal…
Write a song Woody style about Dogfish! It can be about the brewery, the pub, brewing, anything that reflects this awesome organization! Submit your songs to me on or before November 13, 2009. Qualified participants will each receive a prize. One Grand Prize Winner will be selected by Sam the Man himself!
I decided to enter, especially since it had been a while since I let my creative juices flow.....
Lo and behold, guess who won? YES!! I was so excited Mr. Sam Calagione himself chose my bitty words of songdom. Good thing I didn't have to sing them...let's just say my mom's superior vocal genes weren't passed on to me. How was it exactly my husband described my singing....oh, right! LIKE A CAT DYING.
Anyhoo, I wanted to share!
1. Sam's comment on my lyrics: "Very original--Woodesque without covering his song--like slap the booty part."
2. My contest winning "Ode to Dogfish". Enjoy! Would love to hear your feedback!
Ode to Dogfish by Audra
Gather round the fire, y’all
For this song of lore
‘Bout a group of rebel misfits
On the Del’ware shore.
We brew to the extreme, man
Make no apologies.
Off-centered’s where it’s at, man
At 65 degrees.
Chorus:
We got big balls of bocce,
We mash it in the tun.
We rock sofa king hoppy,
And when the day is done
We Randall us some Chic’ry
N’ sport some Palo wood
We blame it on the 60,
Sh*t, life is pretty good!
The brewers work their magic
With coffee, grapes, and beets,
Raspberries and peaches
Cocoa, cloves, and wheat
And Dogfish would be nowhere
Without our cellar crew,
packaging and warehouse,
Maint’nence, QC too.
Chorus:
We got big balls of bocce,
We mash it in the tun.
We rock sofa king hoppy,
And when the day is done
We Randall us some Chic’ry
N’ sport some Palo wood
We blame it on the 60,
Sh*t, life is pretty good!
Sah’tea, Squall N’ Theo
Burton, Black N’ Blue,
Pangaea, Olde School Barley
Immort, World Wide too.
We spit into your Chicha
And Fort into your glass
Our ninety minute IPA
Can eas’ly kick your….(nothing sung, you slap your own booty)
Chorus:
We got big balls of bocce,
We mash it in the tun.
We rock sofa king hoppy,
And when the day is done
We Randall us some Chic’ry
N’ sport some Palo wood
We blame it on the 60,
Sh*t, life is pretty good!
Yeah, life is pretty good!
