Many years in the making, Lyre’s exquisite range of lovingly crafted alcohol-free, classic spirits was borne from a quest to make the impossible possible. To provide an alternative to those who don’t wish to imbibe alcohol, but still wish to enjoy the mirth, merriment and social intercourse of an evening soiree or shindig.
But this is not just any alternative.
Every Lyre’s spirit looks, tastes and sashays around the palate just like the original. And yet, the absence of giggle juice enables revellers to remain clear-headed, of good cheer and in fine fettle to pursue whatever tickles their fancy the following day.
Lyre’s – the finest range of non-alcoholic classic spirits the world has ever seen.
On leaving the foreign legion I took up with a troupe of travelling Morris dancers, one of whom was King George VI.
Hey nonny nonny and a fiddle dee doo.
At the after party for my Summer Collection I discovered my husband in flagrante with my assistant.
Now he’s a fur coat in my Winter Collection.
Out here we have a say’n, ‘Some days you eat the bear, some days the bear eats you.’
But not me, I’m a vegan.
It may be hard for an egg to become a bird, but it would be harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg.
DARK CANE SPIRIT
People talk about being bound by the Pirate Code.
Personally, I’ve always seen it as more of a loose set of guidelines to be applied on a case-by-case basis.
DRY LONDON SPIRIT
Why just last month as I was promenading with some colleagues in Trafalgar Square I got such a ghastly fright that my feet turned into trombones.
Never follow the herd. Unless the leader of said herd is a ridiculously good looking goat with his own petanque court.
You can quote me on that.
Caesar? Yeah I knew him. Real comedian, always havin’ a laugh, ‘What’s the time Mr. Wolf?’. He loved that one. It wasn’t just me either, the whole court copped it.
It’s no surprise things got a bit stabby towards the end.
SPICED CANE SPIRIT
Some men join the merchant navy to sail forbidden seas and land on barbourous coasts. I just needed to escape from the local fish and chip shop owner who kept trying to pop me in the deep fryer.
My father was a famous French nihilist, lover and dueller.
Until he wasn’t.
After my fourth wealthy husband died in a tragic accident involving a toaster and a bathtub, I decided to give up on love and pursue my lifelong passions of Opera and high-stakes Baccarat.
WHITE CANE SPIRIT
I was in Blackbeard’s crew until I pointed out it was more of a 5 o’clock shadow than a beard.
And it was a bit on the ginger side.
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