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Folk Song

X: 1 T: A Jug of Punch O: Ireland

1/4=100

M: 3/4 L: 1/8 Z: Webmaster K: D P: Verse: "A7"AG | "D"FF FF FE | "D"DD D2 CD | "A7"EE E2 DE | "D"FF F3 A | w: As_ I was sit-ting with a jug and spoon, on_ one fine morn in the month of June, A | "D"AA A2 GF | "Em"BG E2 FG | "D"AA "G"B2 "D"AG | "A7"FE "D"D2 |] w: small bird sat on an i-vy bunch, and the song he sang was "The Jug of Punch". P: Chorus: "A7"A>G | "D"FF F2 FE | "D"DD D2 CD | "A7"EE E2 DE | "D"FF F3 A | w: Too ra loo ra loo too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra loo to ra loo ra loo. A | "D"AA A2 GF | "Em"BG E2 FG | "D"AA "G"B2 "D"AG | "A7"FE "D"D2 |] w: small bird sat on an i-vy bunch, and the song he sang was "The Jug of Punch". % W:1 W:As I was sitting with a jug and spoon, on one fine morn in the month of June, W:A small bird sat on an ivy bunch, and the song he sang was "The Jug of Punch". W: W:(chorus) W:Too ra loo ra loo too ra loo ra loo, too ra loo ra loo to ra loo ra loo W:A small bird sat on an ivy bunch, and the song he sang was "The Jug of Punch". W: W:2 W:What more diversion can a man desire, than to court a girl by a neat turf fire? W:A Kerry pippin and to crack and crunch, aye and on the table a jug of punch. W: W:3. W:All ye mortal lords drink your nectar wine, and the quality folks drink their claret fine. W:I'll give them all the grapes in the bunch for a jolly pull at the jug of punch. W: W:4 W: Oh, but when I'm dead and in my grave, no costly tombstone I will crave. W: Just lay me down in my native peat, with a jug of punch at my head and feet. % % % % %

					
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