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Traditional
- One pleasant evening in the month of June,
As I was sitting with my glass and spoon,
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch,
And the song he sang was "A Jug of Punch".
Tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu,
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch,
And the song he sang was "A Jug of Punch".
- What more diversion can a man desire,
Than to sit himself down by a snug turf fire,
Upon his knee a pretty wench,
And on the table a jug of punch.
Tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu,
Upon his knee a pretty wench,
And on the table a jug of punch.
- Let the doctors come with all their art,
They'll make no impression upon my heart,
Even a cripple forgets his hunch,
When he's snug outside of a jug of punch.
Tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu,
Even a cripple forgets his hunch,
When he's snug outside of a jug of punch.
- And if I get drunk, well my money's my own,
And them that don't lik e me can leave me alone.
I'll tune my fiddle and resin my bow,
And I'll be welcome, wherever I go
Tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu,
I'll tune my fiddle and resin my bow,
And I'll be welcome, wherever I go
- When I am dead and in my grave
No costly tombstone will I crave.
Just lay me down in my native peat,
With a jug of punch at me head and feet.
Tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu, tur-a-lu-a-lu,
Just lay me down in my native peat,
With a jug of punch at me head and feet.
From the collection Songs From Hazzards Huzzah