The Jug of Punch (Live)

One pleasant evening in the month of June
As I was sitting with my glass and spoon
A small sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was the jug of punch

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was the jug of punch

What more diversion can a man desire
Than to set him down be a snug turf fire
Upon his knee a pretty wench
Aye and on the table a Jug of punch

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Upon his knee a pretty wench
Aye and on the table a Jug of punch

Let the doctors come with all their art
They will make no impression aye upon my heart
Even the cripple forgets his hunch
When he's safe outside of a jug of punch

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Even the cripple forgets his hunch
When he's safe outside of a jug of punch

And if I get drunk, well the money's me own
And them don't like me, the can leave me alone
I'll tune me fiddle and I'll rosin me bow
Aye, and I'll be welcome where ever I go

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
I'll tune me fiddle and I'll rosin me bow
Aye, and I'll be welcome where ever I go

And when I'm dead aye and in my grave
No costly tombstone will I have
Just lay me down in my native peat
With a jug of punch and my head and feet

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo Too-ra-loo-ra-lay
Just lay me down in my native peat
With a jug of punch and my head and feet