Just Another Whiskey Woman Never Going Home Again Lyric

Best Irish Drinking Songs is quickly condign one of my near-popular albums for sale on iTunes. Make sense. Information technology is a compilation that features 20 of the best traditional Irish gaelic drinking songs… from my albums, at least. Plus, at that place are a few originals thrown into that mix. If you're just getting started with my music, Best Irish Drinking Songs is a good start. Or if yous're getting prepare for St. Patrick's Mean solar day, it'south an excellent mix of St. Patrick's Day drinking songs too. So get your re-create beneath.

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Best Irish Drinking Songs Lyrics

An Irish gaelic drinking vocal is basically an Irish song. Unremarkably Irish drinking songs are most booze, but sometimes they are simply skilful sing-alongs, the type of songs you lot will enjoying singing with your friends at a pub. You tin notice the Irish gaelic song lyrics to all of these drinking songs below:

Charlie Mopps (Beer, Beer, Beer)

Lyrics and music traditional

A long fourth dimension ago, fashion back in history,
when all at that place was to drink was nothin but cups of tea.
Along came a man by the name of Charlie Mops,
and he invented a wonderful drink and he made it out of hops.

* He must have been an admiral a sultan or a king,
and to his praises we shall always sing.
Look what he has done for united states of america he's filled usa up with cheer!
Lord bless Charlie Mops, the man who invented beer beer beer
tiddly beer beer beer.

The Curtis bar, the James' Pub, the Hole in the Wall as well
ane thing y'all can be certain of, its Charlie's beer they sell
so all ye lads a lasses at eleven O'clock ye terminate
for five short seconds, call up Charlie Mops 1 ii 3 four v

A barrel of malt, a bushel of hops, you stir it around with a stick,
the kind of lubrication to brand your engine tick.
40 pints of wallop a twenty-four hours will keep away the quacks.
Its only eight pence hapenny and one and six in tax, i two iii four v

He must take been an admiral a sultan or a king,
and to his praises nosotros shall always sing.
Await what he has done for us he's filled us upwards with cheer!
Lord anoint Charlie Mops, the homo who invented beer beer beer
tiddly beer beer beer.

The Lord bless Charlie Mops!

What Shall Nosotros Do With a Drunken Sailor

lyrics and music traditional

What shall we do with a drunken sailor,
What shall we do with a drunken sailor,
What shall nosotros exercise with a drunken sailor,
Early in the morn?

* Weigh heigh and up she rises
Weigh heigh and upwardly she rises
Counterbalance heigh and upwards she rises
Early in the forenoon

Put him in a long boat till he'southward sober.

Leave him there till they make him better.

Trice upward in a running bowline.

Give 'im a dose of common salt and water.

Give 'im a taste of the bosun's rope-end.

Soak him in oil till he sprouts a flipper.

Shave his abdomen with a rusty razor.

Put him in the bed of the Captain's daughter.

You should of seen the Captain's daughter.

She looks similar an orangutan.

Swinging from a chandalier.

That'southward what you do with a drunken crewman.

Calton Weaver (Nancy Whiskey)

lyrics and music traditional

I'thousand a weaver a Calton Weaver,
I'm a rash and a rovin' blade
I've got silver in my pocket
and I'll follow the roving trade.

* Whisky, Whisky, Nancy Whisky.
Whisky, Whisky Nancy-o!

As I went in to Glasgow City,
Nancy Whisky I chanced to olfactory property,
I went in, sat doon beside her,
Seven long years I loved her well.

The more than I kissed her the more I loved her,
The more than I kissed her the more than she smiled,
Soon I forgot my mother's teaching,
Nancy presently had me beguiled

So I'll go back to the Calton weavin'
I'll surely make the shuttles fly,
I'll brand more at the Calton weavin'
Than ever I did with the rovin' merchandise

So come up all y'all weavers you Calton weavers
All you weaver'southward where 'ere you be
Beware of whiskey, Nancy Whiskey,
She'll ruin you like she ruined me

Whiskey in the Jar

lyrics and music traditional

As I was going over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with captain Farrell and his money he was counting.
I first produced my pistol, and and then produced my rapier.
Said stand up and evangelize, for I am a bold deceiver,

* musha ring dumma do damma da
whack for the daddy 'ol
whack for the daddy 'ol
there'south whiskey in the jar

I counted out his money, and it made a pretty penny.
I put it in my pocket and I took it dwelling to Jenny.
She said and she swore, that she never would deceive me,
but the devil take the women, for they never can be easy

I went into my chamber, all for to take a slumber,
I dreamt of gilt and jewels and for certain it was no wonder.
But Jenny took my charges and she filled them upwardly with h2o,
So sent for captain Farrel to be ready for the slaughter.

It was early on in the morning, as I rose up for travel,
The guards were all around me and likewise helm Farrel.
I first produced my pistol, for she stole away my rapier,
But I couldn't shoot the h2o so a prisoner I was taken.

If anyone can aid me, it's my brother in the army,
If I can find his station down in Cork or in Killarney.
And if he'll come and save me, we'll go roving near Kilkenny,
And I swear he'll treat me better than me darling sportling Jenny

Now some men take delight in the drinking and the roving,
Simply others take please in the gambling and the smoking.
Merely I take delight in the juice of the barley,
And courting pretty fair maids in the morning vivid and early

Irish Drinking Vocal (I'll Drink from Dusk Til Dawn)

lyrics and music Marc Gunn

Johnny awoke with an anguish in his head.
Bad dreams had made him ill.
And he grumbled as he dressed despite his duress
As he made his way to the mill.

Oh he never wanted to piece of work that day,
But the foreman had himself articulate.
Then Johnny dreamed of the eve to come up
When he'd drink him beer subsequently beer,
Singing…

* "I'll beverage from dusk till dawn
I'll beverage a toast to day'southward end.
Yes, I'll drink from dusk till dawn
And I'll drink to the wellness of me friends."

It was a chilly morning, went straight to his bones
Oh, he wished that he had him some ale.
Just one fine glass of stout Guiness
Would agree him till the end of the trail.

Oh his oral fissure watered with the thought of ale
By the fourth dimension he arrived he'd decide
That non fifty-fifty Death could keep him away
From his friends and their favorite dive.
They'd sing…

Johnny worked hard all the twenty-four hours
His mind away drinking lone
And he told his friends of the pledge he'd fabricated
And the fantasy that kept him afloat.

"Come hell or high water I'll drinkable with you lot
Nada could go on me away."
When the day came to end, he left with a friend
Together they walked and they sang…

On the route they came to a bridge of rope
And at that place they met with a man
With a scythe in his paw and an evil grin
Tw'equally Old Death who cut Johnny downward.

Johnny'southward friend crossed himself, swore it'was the truth
As he retold the scene to the bar
And they all recalled Johnny's last words,
"I'll drink come up hell or high water!"
He sang…

Well, the door swung open up, a cold wind blew in.
And there stood a man unafraid.
He called for a beer. They realized when nigh.
It was Johnny come up back from the grave.

He said, "You could go on me away from work.
For in that location's cypher I live for there.
Just I told you lot today of the pledge I made
You lot can't go on a man from his beer,"

Fiddler's Dark-green

lyrics and music John Conolly

As I roved by the dockside 1 evening so off-white
To view the common salt waters and accept in the table salt air
I heard an old fisherman singing a song
Oh, take me away boys me time is non long

* Wrap me upwardly in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I'll be seen
Just tell me erstwhile shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
And I'll see you someday on Fiddlers Greenish

At present Fiddler'southward Green is a identify I've heard tell
Where the fishermen go if they don't become to hell
Where the conditions is fair and the dolphins do play
And the cold declension of Greenland is far, far abroad

Now when you're in dock and the long trip is through
There's pubs and there's clubs and there's lassies in that location too
And the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
And there's bottles of rum growing on every tree.

Where the skies are all clear and there's never a gail
And the fish jump on board with i swish on their tail
Where you lie at your leisure, in that location's no work to do
And the skipper's beneath making tea for the crew

Now I don't want a harp nor a halo, not me
Just give me a cakewalk and a good rolling sea
I'll play me erstwhile squeeze-box as we canvas along
With the air current in the riggin to sing me a song

Wild Rover

lyrics and music traditional

I've been a wild rover for many a year,
And I spent all my money on whiskey and beer,
But now I've returned with gilded in nifty store,
And I never volition play the wild rover no more than.

* And it'southward no, nay, never
No, nay, never, no more,
Will I play the rover
No never, no more than.

I went down to an ale house I used to frequent,
And I told the landlady my money was spent.
I asked her for credit, merely she answered me "Nay.
Such custom like yours I could have whatever day."

I took from my pocket 10 sovereigns bright,
And the landlady's eyes opened broad with please,
She said, "I have whiskeys and wines of the best,
And I'll take you upstairs, and I'll prove you the rest.

I'll go habitation to my parents, confess what I've done,
And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son.
And if they cuddle me as often times earlier,
I never will play the wild rover no more!

Finnegan's Wake

lyrics and music by traditional

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street,
A gentle Irishman mighty odd
He had a brogue both rich and sweet,
An' to ascension in the earth he carried a hod
You see he'd a sort of a tipplers way
merely for the dear for the liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on his mode each day,
he'd a drop of the craythur every morn

* Whack fol the dah at present trip the light fantastic to yer partner
round the flure yer trotters milk shake
Bend an ear to the truth they tell ye,
nosotros had lots of fun at Finnegan'due south Wake

I morning Tim got rather full,
his head felt heavy which made him shake
Savage from a ladder and he broke his skull, and
they carried him home his corpse to wake
Rolled him upwards in a nice clean sail,
and laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet
and a barrel of porter at his caput

His friends assembled at the wake,
and Widow Finnegan called for lunch
First she brought in tay and cake,
then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien began to cry,
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you always encounter,
Tim, auvreem! O, why did you die?",
"Will ye hould your gob?" said Paddy McGee

And so Maggie O'Connor took up the cry,
"O Biddy" says she "you lot're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
and sent her sprawling on the flooring
Then the war did soon engage,
t'was woman to woman and human being to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
and a row and a ruction soon began

Mickey Maloney ducked his head
when a bucket of whiskey flew at him
Information technology missed, and falling on the bed,
the liquor scattered over Tim
At present the spirits new life gave the corpse, my joy!
Tim jumped like a Trojan from the bed
Cryin will ye walup each girl and male child,
t'underin' Jaysus, do ye retrieve I'm dead?"

Rising of the Moon

lyrics by J.K. Casey, music Turlough O'Carolan

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell tell me why yous hurry so
Husha buachaill hush and listen and his cheeks were all a glow
I bare orders from the captain become you lot ready quick and presently
For the pikes must be together past the ascension of the moon

* Past the ascension of the moon, by the rise of the moon
For the pikes must exist together by the ascent of the moon

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be
At the old spot by the river quite well known to you lot and me
One more than word for indicate token whistle out the marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
With your superhighway upon your shoulder past the rise of the moon

Out from many a mud wall motel optics were watching through the dark
Many a manly center was beating for the blessed alert lite
Murmurs rang along the valleys to the banshees lonely croon
And a one thousand pikes were flashing past the rise of the moon

By the rise of the moon, by the ascension of the moon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen
Loftier to a higher place their shining weapons flew their own dear green
Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune
And hurrah, me boys, for liberty, 'tis the rising of the moon

'Tis the ascension of the moon, 'tis the ascent of the moon
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the ascent of the moon

Roll the Old Chariot Along

lyrics and music Traditional

A drop of Nelson's blood wouldn't do u.s.a. any impairment (3x)
And we'll all hang on backside.

* So we'll whorl the golden chariot forth
An' nosotros'll roll the aureate chariot along.
So nosotros'll gyre the gilt chariot along
An' nosotros'll all hang on behind!

A plate of Irish stew wouldn't do us any harm…

A nice fat cook wouldn't practice usa whatever harm…

A roll in the clover wouldn't do us any harm…

A long spell in gaol wouldn't do us whatsoever harm…

A round on the house wouldn't practise the states whatsoever harm…

A glass of hot whiskey wouldn't do us whatsoever harm…

If the devil's in the road, nosotros'll roll it over him…

The Widow and the Devil

Lyrics and music Mick Ryan, Original song name "The Widow's Promise"

High atop a lonely moor, a Widow lived alone.
An Inn she kept, and as she slept,
her pillow heard her moan:
"Oh, many's the lonely traveler
has spent the night with me,
but there'southward no a man in all creation
gives content to me!

"Well, some tin can manage one time or twice,
and some brand 3 or 4;
but it seems to me a rarity
is the man who can practice more.
I'd do anything to detect him,
in Heaven or in Hell."
And as she spoke these words,
sure, she heard her forepart door bell.

* And the wind blew cold and lonely
across that Widow's moor,
and she never, ever turned abroad
a traveller from the door.

So boldly ran the Widow,
and the door did open wide,
and as she did, a alpine and handsome
stranger stepped inside.
Well, she gave him bread and brandy,
and when that he was fed,
he said, "My dear, now accept no fear;
it'due south time to come to bed.

"For I've heard your plea
right down below,
and I've come to run into you right.
But yous must come up to Hell with me
if I can final the nighttime."
She said, "Yous randy Devil!
To this deal I'll agree,
for Hell on Earth, or Hell in Hell,
it's however to me!"

Now, as they tumbled in the bed,
the Devil, he proved well…
and he thought before the nighttime would end
that she'd be in his Hell.
Ah, just when they came to number nine,
the Widow cried out, "More!"
And when the twelfth time came around,
the Widow cried, "Encore!"

At xx-v the Devil
felt compelled to accept a residual,
but the Widow cried,
"Come raise your caput,
and put me to the test!"
At lx-nine, the Widow laughed.
"Again! Again!" she cried,
and the Devil said,
"Well, I can see simply how your husband died!"

At ninety-9, the Devil
he began to wail and weep.
He said, "I'll requite yous annihilation,
if you'll allow me go to sleep!"
But before the morning time lite was upward,
the Devil hobbled habitation,
and the Widow, still not satisfied,
again was left alone.

She lay there on her pillow
and she thought on ninety-9.
"Information technology's a pity that poor old Devil
couldn't manage one more fourth dimension!
I'll telephone call him up again this night
to see what tin can be washed –
with a petty more application,
nosotros could make information technology to the ton!"

Only when she chosen to him that night,
no Devil did appear.
For the starting time fourth dimension in Eternity,
the Devil, he shook with fear.
He said, "Of all the torments
I've witnessed hither in Hell,
I never knew what pain was,
'til I rang your forepart door bong!"

St Patrick'due south Twenty-four hours Leprechaun, aka The Leprechaun

lyrics and music by Marc Gunn

There's a Leprechaun in me head, and I wish that I were expressionless
For I don't think he'll e'er let me be.
Oh, he tempts me with his gold, and if I were e'er so bold,
I'd strangle him and leave him in the street.

* Well, he says to me, "Ah, you're no Irish gaelic Laddie!
And ye call that matter a harp?"
Merely each time I share the lore that I am learning.
He hides in shame while my friends they chant.
La ta tee, da diddley dee, la ta tee ta tee da
La ta tee, da diddley diddley dai
La ta tee, da diddley dee, la ta tee ta tee da
La ta tee, da diddley diddley dai

There'south a leprechaun in my room. He swats me with a broom.
That's the reason I forget the words of this song.
Well, he shows me a 4-foliage clover, and before me song is over,
It'southward buried in a bowl of Lucky Charms.

Ther'es a leprechaun on the flooring, and he says that I'one thousand a bore.
He yawns aloud every bit I sing my song.
He feigns i last breathe stolen, but I encounter his eyes are open.
And he's watching me with envy deep within.

There's a leprechaun on a loma, and his gold is buried there.
Then I grab him past the neck 'fore he gets away.
The pot's as well heavy, he giggles, and so I pinch me simply a little,
And he thinks he'southward fooled me as I run away.

Rosin the Bow

lyrics and music traditional

I've traveled this wide earth all over
And now to another I go.
And I know the good quarters are waiting
To welcome former Rosin the Bow.

To welcome old Rosin the Bow. (x2)
And I know the good quarters are waiting
To welcome one-time Rosin the Bow.

When I'thousand dead and laid out on the counter
A vocalisation you volition hear from below,
Saying "Send down a hogshead of whisky
To beverage with old Rosin the Bow.

To drinkable with old Rosin the Bow". (x2)
Saying "Send down a hogshead of whisky
To potable with erstwhile Rosin the Bow".

And then get a half dozen stout fellows
And line them all up in a row
Allow them drink out of half gallon bottles
To the memory of Rosin the Bow

To the memory of Rosin the Bow (x2)
Permit them drink out of half gallon bottles
To the retentiveness of Rosin the Bow

Then become a half dozen stout fellows
And line them all stagger and go
And allow 'em dig a great hole in the meadow
And in it put Rosin the Bow.

And in it put Rosin the Bow. (x2)
Permit 'em dig a great pigsty in the meadow
And in it put Rosin the Bow.

Then get ye a couple of bottles.
Put i at me head and me toe.
With a diamond ring scratched upon 'em
The proper noun of onetime Rosin the Bow.

The name of old Rosin the Bow. (x2)
With a diamond band scratched upon 'em
The proper name of old Rosin the Bow.

I experience that grim reaper approaching,
That roughshod remorseless old foe,
And I lift up me glass in his honor.
Accept a drink with old Rosin the Bow.

Accept a drink with onetime Rosin the Bow. (x2)
And I lift upwards me glass in his honour.
Accept a drinkable with erstwhile Rosin the Bow.

Johnny Spring Upwards

lyrics and music traditional

I'll tell you a story that happened to me
One day as I went down to Yore past the bounding main
The sun information technology was hot and the solar day it was warm,
Says I a serenity pint wouldn't practise me no impairment

I went in and I chosen for a canteen of stout
Says the barman, I'm distressing, all the beer is sold out
Attempt whiskey or paddy, ten years in the wood
Says I, I'll try cider, I've heard it was proficient.

* Oh never, Oh never, Oh never again
If I alive to exist a hundred or a hundred and ten
I fell to the ground and I couldn't get up
After drinking a quart of the Johnny Spring Upwardly

Afterward downing the third I went out to the yard
Where I bumped into Brody, the big borough baby-sit
Come here to me boy, don't you know I'thou the police force?
Well, I up with me fist and I shattered his jaw

He fell to the ground with his knees doubled up
Just it wasn't I striking him, 'twas Johnny Leap Up
The next affair I recollect down in Cork by the body of water
Was a cripple on crutches and says he to me

I'm afraid of me life I'll exist striking past a automobile
Won't you aid me beyond to the Celtic Knot Bar?
Subsequently downing a quart of that cider so sweetness
He threw down his crutches and danced on his feet

I went upwardly the lee road, a friend for to see
They telephone call it the madhouse in Cork past the Body of water
Butl when I got there, sure the truth I will tell,
They had this poor bugger locked upwardly in a prison cell

Said the guard, testing him, say these words if you tin can,
"Effectually the rugged stone the ragged rascal ran"
Tell him I'g not crazy, tell him I'm not mad
It was only a sip of the bottle I had

Well, a man died in the mines by the name of McNabb
They washed him and laid him outside on the slab
And afterwards the parlors measurements did take
His married woman brought him home to a bloody fine wake

Twas about 12 o'clock and the beer was loftier
The corpse sits up and says with a sigh
I tin't go to heaven, they won't let me upward
Til I bring them a quart of the Johnny Jump Up

Then if ever you lot go down to Cork by the sea
Stay out of the ale business firm and take information technology from me
If you desire to stay sane don't you dare take a sup
Of that devil drinkable cider called Johnny Bound Up

St. Patrick Never Drank

lyrics Thou. Spaff Sumsion, music Marc Gunn

The 14th day of Feb'due south for Saint Valentine
September 29th is when Saint Michael'due south true-blue dine
On April 23rd nosotros hail Saint George without restraint
And come Nov 1st we cheer for EV'RY bloody saint

But none of those can claim the very BEST day of the year
'Cause on March 17th nosotros praise the patron saint of BEER!

[Thank you: "Hail St Patrick!" "Slainte!" etc.]

But look! Don't cheer for greenish beer or Irish cream liqueur
Be-cause the man you toast was one devout tee-to-tal-ER!

Saint Patrick never drank! (Hey!)
Saint Patrick never drank! (Hey!)
'Twas only clear, unleaded stuff he poured into his tank!
He'd take the cash YOU spend for drafts and stash information technology in the bank! (Hooray!)
Heroic, truthful, simply STOIC too!
Saint Patrick never drank!

He strode with ancient war-ri-ors from declension to plain to highland
His staff he'd milk shake till ev'ry snake was banished from the island
He taught his fans the shamrock stands for Father, Son, and Spirit
Simply don't break out the Guinness Stout – the man would not get near it!

Saint Patrick didn't beverage! (Hey!)
Saint Patrick didn't potable! (Hey!)
He never tossed a bracer back or teetered on the brink!
And then cascade another tall ane, lad, and so pour it down the sink! (Hooray!)
With piety, SOBRIETY!
Saint Patrick didn't potable!

Saint Patrick never drank (Hey!)
Saint Patrick never drank (Hey!)
So permit's be frank: When asked his fav'rite beer, he drew a bare!
By gosh, if he could meet you sloshed, he'd requite your tush a spank! (Hooray!)
The guy was great – only Dry out AS HELL!
Saint Patrick never drank!

No, SAINT – PAT – RICK – NEV – ER – DRANK!

Dicey Riley

lyrics and music traditional

Poor old Dicey Riley she has taken to the sup.
Poor old Dicey Riley she will never give it up.
For it's off each morning to the hock
Where she goes in for another piddling drop
Ah the heart of the rowl is Dicey Riley

She walks forth Fitzgibbon Street with an contained air
And then it's downwardly by Summerhill, where the people stare
She says "It'south about half past 1
Information technology's time I had another picayune one.'
Ah the center of the rowl is Dicey Riley.

She owns a footling sweetness shop at the corner of the street
And every evening after school I go to launder her feet
She leaves me there to mind the shop while she nips in for another piddling driblet
Ah the center of the rowl is Dicey Riley

Arthur McBride

words and music Traditional

I had a starting time cousin called Arthur McBride
He and I took a stroll down by the seaside;
To seek for good fortune and what might betide
Bring just every bit the solar day was a'dawnin'
So after resting nosotros both took a dram
and met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Balk
And besides a wee drummer who beat upwards the camp
With his rowdy-dow-dow in the morning

He said, "My young fellows if you will enlist
A republic of guinea you speedily will have in your fist
And besides a whole crown for to kick up the grit
And drinkable the King'southward health in the morning time
Had nosotros been such fools as to accept the advance;
With the wee fleck of coin nosotros'd accept to run chance
For you lot'd think it no scruples to send us to France;
Where we would be killed in the forenoon

He said, "My young fellows if I hear but 1 word
I instantly now will out with my sword
And into your bodies every bit strength will afford;
So at present my gay devils take warning."
But Arthur and nosotros presently took the odds;
And we gave them no time for to depict out their blades
Our trusty shillelaghs came over their heads
And paid them correct smart in the morning

Every bit for the wee drummer, nosotros rifled his pouch
And we made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow
And into the ocean to rock and to curlicue
And bade him a tedious returning
Equally for the onetime rapier that hung past his side
We flung it as far as we could in the tide
"To the Devil I pitch you," said Arthur McBride
" To atmosphere your steel in the morning."

Old Dun Cow (MacIntyre)

words and music Harry Wincott, additional verses by Brad Howard

Some friends and I in a public house
Was playing a game of take a chance one night
When into the pub a fireman ran
His face all a chalky white.
"What'south up", says Brown, "Have y'all seen a ghost,
Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
"Me Aunt Mariah be buggered!", says he,
"The bleedin' pub's on fire!"

And there was Brown upside down
Lappin" upwards the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried
As they came knockin' on the door (clap clap)
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk upward
And somebody shouted MacIntyre! MACINTYRE!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic boozer
When the Quondam Dun Cow caught burn.

"Oh well," says Brown, "What a bit of luck.
Everybody follow me.
And it'due south down to the cellar
If the fire'southward non at that place
Then we'll accept a chiliad old spree."
Then we went on down later on skilful old Brown
The booze nosotros could not miss
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were quite pissed.

And so, Smith walked over to the port vino tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks (clap clap)
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on, " says Brown, "that ain't allowed
Ya cannot do that matter hither.
Don't go washin' trousers in the port vino tub
When we got Guinness beer."

Then there came from the one-time dorsum door
The Vicar of the local church building.
And when he saw our drunken ways,
He began to scream and expletive.
"Ah, you drunken sods! You lot infidel clods!
You've taken to a drunken spree!
You drank up all the Benedictine wine
And you didn't save a drop for me!"

Then there came a mighty crash
Half the bloody roof caved in.
Nosotros were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And nosotros nailed ourselves inside
And we sat drinking the finest Rum
Till nosotros were bleary-eyed.

Later that night, when the burn was out
We came upward from the cellar beneath.
Our pub was burned. Our booze was drunk.
Our heads was hanging low.
"Oh look", says Brown with a look quite queer.
Seems something raised his ire.
"Now nosotros gotta become down to Murphy's Pub,
It closes on the hour!"

Isn't Information technology One thousand, Boys?

lyrics and music Traditional

Await at the coffin with gilded handles
Isn't it grand boys to be bloody well dead?

Allow's not take a sniffle,
Let's have a bloody good weep
And always remember the longer you alive,
The sooner you lot'll bloody well die

Look at the preacher, bloody well santified (encarmine sanctimonious)
Isn't information technology grand boys to exist bloody well dead?

Look at the choir boys, bloody castrati
Isn't information technology grand boys to be encarmine well dead?

Expect at the widow, bloody neat female person
Isn't it grand boys to be bloody well expressionless?

Look at the mourners, bloody great hippocrites
Isn't it thou boys to be bloody well dead?

Look at the flowers, all bloody wilted
Isn't information technology yard boys to be bloody well dead?

Look at the tombstone, encarmine great boulder
Isn't information technology grand boys to be encarmine well dead?

Look at the whiskey, in buckets and bottles
Isn't it grand boys to be bloody well dead?

The Parting Glass

words and music Traditional

Of all the money that ere I had, I spent information technology in good company.
And of all the harm that ere I've washed, alas was done to none but me.
And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I cannot recall.
So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy exist with y'all all.

Of all the comrades that ere I had, they're sorry for my going away,
And of all the sweethearts that ere I had , they wish me one more 24-hour interval to stay,
But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not,
I volition gently rise and I'll softly call, "Goodnight and joy be with you all!"

Oh, if I had money plenty to spend and leisure time to sit awhile
There is a fair maid in this town that sorely has my heart beguiled
Her rosey cheeks and reddish lips, she lonely has my heart in thrall.
And so fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with yous all.

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Source: https://marcgunn.com/best-irish-drinking-songs-lyrics/

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