As I was sittin’ with my jug and spoon
One fine mornin’ in the month of June
a birdie sang in an ivy bunch
and the song he sang was the jug o’ punch
chorus:
tooriloorilay, tooriloorily
tooriloorilay, tooriloorily
a birdie sat in an ivy bunch
and the song he sang was the jug o’ punch
what more diversion can a man desire
than be sittin’ down by a snug turf fire
a pretty maid seated on the bench
and on the table a jug o’ punch
tooriloorilay, tooriloorily
tooriloorilay, tooriloorily
a pretty maid seated on the bench
and on the table a jug o’ punch
and when I’m dead and laid in my grave
no costly tombstone will I crave
just bury me in my native peat
with a jug o’ punch at my head and feet
tooriloorilay, tooriloorily
tooriloorilay, tooriloorily
just bury me in my native peat
with a jug o’ punch at my head and feet<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
As I was sittin’ with my jug and spoonOne fine mornin’ in the month of Junea birdie sang in an ivy bunchand the song he sang was the jug o’ punch chorus:tooriloorilay, tooriloorilytooriloorilay, tooriloorilya birdie sat in an ivy bunchand the song he sang was the jug o’ punch what more diversion can a man … <\/p>\n