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The Jug Of Punch

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Traditional
  1. 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".
  2. 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.
  3. 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.
  4. 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
  5. 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