(99 bottles of beer on the wall)
For years, Bob and the boys have been getting together (99 bottles of beer, if one of them)
After working 60 back-breaking hours at that lousy fuckin' job (bottles should happen to fall)
Suckin' back a coupla 24's of beer, pukin' out the back porch and the dry heaves and through the nose
And sure enough, next morning they all swear, that's the last fuckin' time they drink like that
But we know that after a few days of takin' it easy
They feel so good that they get down a few cold ones
And before you know it, they're drinkin' their fuckin' brains out and arguin' over trivial things
And they get so heated that a few hooks and jabs start flyin' and a couple a fellas leave with sore faces
And one comes reelin' back to the piss-up with a 12-gauge Remington shot-gun, lookin' for a little revenge
And after the accident, they have to call the cops and the ambulance
And the guy he shot loses the use of his right arm
And he's charged for dangerous use of a firearm
And he's fired from his god-damn job and his wife and his kids leave him
And he really starts drinkin' and his weight sky-rockets
And pretty soon the purple elephants and the huge spiders are all poundin' on his door
And he's screaming his brains out lookin' to get pissed
Well, that's the time for Shit Face, the beer that fucked a country
(86 bottles of beer on the wall, 86 bottles of beer, if one of them...)