“Just what the doctor ordered”
Here in Ken-tuck-ee
Get your liquid postcard
Beneath our ‘nolia trees

Centuries of seasons,
barrel years roll by
Sweet fruit, oak and spices,
Of barley, corn and rye.

Spirits soar from black-charred tombs,
Angel share descends
Gifts us with the fragrance
Of Master Brewer’s Blends

Limestone – filtered waters
Tame the bubbling ale
Follow black-fenced pastures
To navigate the trail