Jug Of Punch Songtext
von The Clancy Brothers & Robbie O’Connell

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 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 sit him down by an ale house 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′ll make no impression upon my heart
Even the cripple forgets his hunch
When he's snug 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 snug outside of a jug of punch

And if I get drunk, I will dump money's me own
And them don't like me, they can leave me alone
I′ll tune me fiddle, and I′ll rosin' me bow
And I′ll be welcome wherever 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
And I′ll be welcome wherever I go

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