Meet Me at the Pub Drunk Again

Best Irish Drinking Songs is quickly becoming one of my almost-popular albums for sale on iTunes. Make sense. It is a compilation that features 20 of the best traditional Irish gaelic drinking songs… from my albums, at least. Plus, at that place are a few originals thrown into that mix. If you're just getting started with my music, Best Irish Drinking Songs is a skillful start. Or if you're getting set for St. Patrick's Day, it's an first-class mix of St. Patrick'south 24-hour interval drinking songs as well. Then become your re-create below.

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All-time Irish Drinking Songs Lyrics

An Irish gaelic drinking song is basically an Irish gaelic song. Usually Irish drinking songs are about alcohol, but sometimes they are but practiced sing-alongs, the blazon of songs you will enjoying singing with your friends at a pub. You lot can find the Irish song lyrics to all of these drinking songs beneath:

Charlie Mopps (Beer, Beer, Beer)

Lyrics and music traditional

A long time ago, manner back in history,
when all there was to drink was nothin only cups of tea.
Forth came a human by the proper noun of Charlie Mops,
and he invented a wonderful drink and he fabricated it out of hops.

* He must have been an admiral a sultan or a rex,
and to his praises we shall always sing.
Look what he has done for us he'south filled united states of america up with cheer!
Lord bless Charlie Mops, the human being who invented beer beer beer
tiddly beer beer beer.

The Curtis bar, the James' Pub, the Hole in the Wall as well
one affair you tin be sure of, its Charlie'south beer they sell
so all ye lads a lasses at 11 O'clock ye cease
for five short seconds, recall Charlie Mops 1 ii 3 4 5

A barrel of malt, a bushel of hops, you stir information technology around with a stick,
the kind of lubrication to brand your engine tick.
40 pints of wallop a day will go on away the quacks.
Its only 8 pence hapenny and 1 and vi in revenue enhancement, 1 2 3 4 5

He must accept been an admiral a sultan or a king,
and to his praises we shall always sing.
Look what he has done for us he'south filled us up with cheer!
Lord anoint Charlie Mops, the human who invented beer beer beer
tiddly beer beer beer.

The Lord bless Charlie Mops!

What Shall We Exercise With a Drunken Sailor

lyrics and music traditional

What shall we do with a drunken sailor,
What shall nosotros practice with a drunken sailor,
What shall we do with a drunken sailor,
Early in the morning time?

* Weigh heigh and up she rises
Weigh heigh and up she rises
Weigh heigh and up she rises
Early on in the morning

Put him in a long boat till he's sober.

Leave him there till they make him meliorate.

Trice up in a running bowline.

Requite 'im a dose of salt and h2o.

Give 'im a gustation of the bosun'due south rope-cease.

Soak him in oil till he sprouts a flipper.

Shave his belly with a rusty razor.

Put him in the bed of the Captain's daughter.

You lot should of seen the Captain'due south daughter.

She looks like an orangutan.

Swinging from a chandalier.

That's what y'all practice with a drunken sailor.

Calton Weaver (Nancy Whiskey)

lyrics and music traditional

I'm a weaver a Calton Weaver,
I'm a rash and a rovin' blade
I've got silver in my pocket
and I'll follow the roving merchandise.

* Whisky, Whisky, Nancy Whisky.
Whisky, Whisky Nancy-o!

As I went in to Glasgow City,
Nancy Whisky I chanced to smell,
I went in, sat doon beside her,
Seven long years I loved her well.

The more I kissed her the more I loved her,
The more I kissed her the more than she smiled,
Soon I forgot my mother'due south instruction,
Nancy shortly had me beguiled

So I'll become dorsum to the Calton weavin'
I'll surely make the shuttles wing,
I'll make more at the Calton weavin'
Than e'er I did with the rovin' merchandise

So come up all you weavers you lot Calton weavers
All you weaver's where 'ere you be
Beware of whiskey, Nancy Whiskey,
She'll ruin yous like she ruined me

Whiskey in the Jar

lyrics and music traditional

As I was going over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with captain Farrell and his money he was counting.
I first produced my pistol, and and then produced my rapier.
Said stand up and deliver, for I am a bold deceiver,

* musha ring dumma do damma da
whack for the daddy 'ol
whack for the daddy 'ol
at that place's whiskey in the jar

I counted out his money, and it made a pretty penny.
I put it in my pocket and I took information technology home to Jenny.
She said and she swore, that she never would deceive me,
simply the devil take the women, for they never tin exist piece of cake

I went into my bedroom, all for to have a slumber,
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure it was no wonder.
But Jenny took my charges and she filled them upwards with water,
And so sent for captain Farrel to be ready for the slaughter.

It was early in the morning, equally I rose up for travel,
The guards were all effectually me and likewise captain Farrel.
I starting time produced my pistol, for she stole away my rapier,
But I couldn't shoot the h2o so a prisoner I was taken.

If anyone tin assistance me, it's my brother in the ground forces,
If I tin can observe his station down in Cork or in Killarney.
And if he'll come and save me, we'll go roving near Kilkenny,
And I swear he'll care for me better than me darling sportling Jenny

Now some men take delight in the drinking and the roving,
But others take delight in the gambling and the smoking.
Simply I take delight in the juice of the barley,
And courtship pretty fair maids in the morn brilliant and early on

Irish gaelic Drinking Song (I'll Potable from Dusk Til Dawn)

lyrics and music Marc Gunn

Johnny awoke with an ache in his head.
Bad dreams had fabricated him ill.
And he grumbled as he dressed despite his duress
As he made his way to the mill.

Oh he never wanted to work that day,
But the foreman had himself clear.
So Johnny dreamed of the eve to come
When he'd beverage him beer after beer,
Singing…

* "I'll drink from dusk till dawn
I'll drink a toast to day's terminate.
Yes, I'll drink from dusk till dawn
And I'll drink to the health of me friends."

It was a dank morning, went straight to his bones
Oh, he wished that he had him some ale.
Just one fine glass of stout Guiness
Would hold him till the end of the trail.

Oh his mouth watered with the thought of ale
Past the time he arrived he'd decide
That not even Death could go along him abroad
From his friends and their favorite dive.
They'd sing…

Johnny worked difficult all the day
His mind away drinking solitary
And he told his friends of the pledge he'd made
And the fantasy that kept him afloat.

"Come up hell or loftier h2o I'll drinkable with you
Null could proceed me abroad."
When the mean solar day came to end, he left with a friend
Together they walked and they sang…

On the road they came to a bridge of rope
And there they met with a man
With a scythe in his manus and an evil grin
Tw'as Onetime Expiry who cut Johnny down.

Johnny's friend crossed himself, swore it'was the truth
As he retold the scene to the bar
And they all recalled Johnny's concluding words,
"I'll drink come hell or high water!"
He sang…

Well, the door swung open, a common cold current of air blew in.
And there stood a homo unafraid.
He called for a beer. They realized when near.
Information technology was Johnny come up dorsum from the grave.

He said, "Yous could go on me away from work.
For there's nothing I live for there.
But I told you today of the pledge I made
You lot tin can't keep a man from his beer,"

Fiddler's Green

lyrics and music John Conolly

As I roved by the dockside one evening then fair
To view the salt waters and take in the salt air
I heard an old fisherman singing a song
Oh, take me away boys me fourth dimension is not long

* Wrap me upward in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I'll exist seen
But tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
And I'll meet you someday on Fiddlers Dark-green

Now Fiddler's Light-green is a place I've heard tell
Where the fishermen become if they don't become to hell
Where the atmospheric condition is fair and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away

At present when y'all're in dock and the long trip is through
There's pubs and in that location's clubs and there's lassies there too
And the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
And at that place's bottles of rum growing on every tree.

Where the skies are all articulate and there's never a gail
And the fish jump on board with one classy on their tail
Where you lot lie at your leisure, there'south no work to do
And the skipper's below making tea for the crew

Now I don't want a harp nor a halo, not me
But requite me a breeze and a proficient rolling sea
I'll play me old squeeze-box every bit we sheet along
With the wind in the riggin to sing me a song

Wild Rover

lyrics and music traditional

I've been a wild rover for many a yr,
And I spent all my money on whiskey and beer,
But now I've returned with gold in great store,
And I never will play the wild rover no more.

* And it'south no, nay, never
No, nay, never, no more than,
Will I play the rover
No never, no more.

I went down to an ale house I used to frequent,
And I told the landlady my money was spent.
I asked her for credit, simply she answered me "Nay.
Such custom similar yours I could accept any mean solar day."

I took from my pocket ten sovereigns bright,
And the landlady'southward eyes opened broad with delight,
She said, "I have whiskeys and wines of the best,
And I'll take you upstairs, and I'll show you the rest.

I'll become home to my parents, confess what I've done,
And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son.
And if they caress me as often times before,
I never volition play the wild rover no more!

Finnegan's Wake

lyrics and music past traditional

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street,
A gentle Irishman mighty odd
He had a brogue both rich and sweet,
An' to ascent in the world he carried a hod
You encounter he'd a sort of a tipplers manner
but for the love for the liquor poor Tim was born
To assist him on his way each day,
he'd a drop of the craythur every morn

* Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner
round the flure yer trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth they tell ye,
we had lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

1 morning Tim got rather full,
his head felt heavy which made him milkshake
Fell from a ladder and he bankrupt his skull, and
they carried him home his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice make clean canvass,
and laid him out upon the bed
A canteen of whiskey at his feet
and a barrel of porter at his head

His friends assembled at the wake,
and Widow Finnegan called for lunch
First she brought in tay and cake,
then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien began to cry,
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see,
Tim, auvreem! O, why did you die?",
"Will ye hould your gob?" said Paddy McGee

And then Maggie O'Connor took up the cry,
"O Biddy" says she "y'all're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
and sent her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon appoint,
t'was adult female to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
and a row and a ruction soon began

Mickey Maloney ducked his head
when a bucket of whiskey flew at him
Information technology missed, and falling on the bed,
the liquor scattered over Tim
Now the spirits new life gave the corpse, my joy!
Tim jumped similar a Trojan from the bed
Cryin will ye walup each girl and boy,
t'underin' Jaysus, exercise ye think I'g dead?"

Ascent of the Moon

lyrics by J.K. Casey, music Turlough O'Carolan

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell tell me why you hurry so
Husha buachaill hush and heed and his cheeks were all a glow
I bare orders from the captain get you lot ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

* Past the ascent of the moon, past the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together by the ascension of the moon

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be
At the onetime spot by the river quite well known to you and me
One more word for betoken token whistle out the marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, past the ascension of the moon
With your pike upon your shoulder past the rising of the moon

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the nighttime
Many a manly heart was chirapsia for the blest warning light
Murmurs rang along the valleys to the banshees lonely croon
And a chiliad pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, past the ascension of the moon
And a chiliad pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen
High above their shining weapons flew their own dear dark-green
Decease to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching melody
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rise of the moon

'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rise of the moon
And hurrah, me boys, for liberty, 'tis the rising of the moon

Whorl the Quondam Chariot Along

lyrics and music Traditional

A drop of Nelson's claret wouldn't do us any damage (3x)
And we'll all hang on backside.

* So nosotros'll coil the gilt chariot forth
An' we'll roll the golden chariot forth.
So we'll roll the golden chariot along
An' we'll all hang on behind!

A plate of Irish stew wouldn't do us any harm…

A nice fat cook wouldn't exercise us any harm…

A curlicue in the clover wouldn't practice us any harm…

A long spell in gaol wouldn't do u.s. any damage…

A circular on the house wouldn't practice us any harm…

A glass of hot whiskey wouldn't practise the states whatever harm…

If the devil's in the road, we'll gyre information technology over him…

The Widow and the Devil

Lyrics and music Mick Ryan, Original song proper noun "The Widow's Promise"

Loftier atop a lonely moor, a Widow lived solitary.
An Inn she kept, and as she slept,
her pillow heard her moan:
"Oh, many's the lonely traveler
has spent the night with me,
but at that place'south no a human in all creation
gives content to me!

"Well, some can manage one time or twice,
and some make three or four;
but it seems to me a rarity
is the man who can do more.
I'd do anything to find him,
in Heaven or in Hell."
And as she spoke these words,
sure, she heard her front door bell.

* And the wind blew common cold and lonely
beyond that Widow's moor,
and she never, ever turned away
a traveller from the door.

So boldly ran the Widow,
and the door did open wide,
and as she did, a tall and handsome
stranger stepped inside.
Well, she gave him bread and brandy,
and when that he was fed,
he said, "My dearest, now accept no fearfulness;
information technology'south fourth dimension to come to bed.

"For I've heard your plea
right downward below,
and I've come to come across you right.
But yous must come to Hell with me
if I tin last the dark."
She said, "You randy Devil!
To this bargain I'll agree,
for Hell on World, or Hell in Hell,
it's all the same to me!"

Now, every bit they tumbled in the bed,
the Devil, he proved well…
and he thought earlier the night would end
that she'd be in his Hell.
Ah, but when they came to number nine,
the Widow cried out, "More than!"
And when the 12th time came around,
the Widow cried, "Encore!"

At xx-five the Devil
felt compelled to have a remainder,
simply the Widow cried,
"Come raise your caput,
and put me to the test!"
At sixty-nine, the Widow laughed.
"Again! Once more!" she cried,
and the Devil said,
"Well, I tin see only how your hubby died!"

At xc-nine, the Devil
he began to wail and weep.
He said, "I'll give you anything,
if you'll let me go to sleep!"
Just before the forenoon light was up,
the Devil hobbled home,
and the Widow, all the same not satisfied,
once more was left alone.

She lay in that location on her pillow
and she thought on ninety-9.
"It's a pity that poor old Devil
couldn't manage one more time!
I'll phone call him upwardly again tonight
to see what tin exist washed –
with a fiddling more than application,
we could go far to the ton!"

But when she called to him that night,
no Devil did announced.
For the outset fourth dimension in Eternity,
the Devil, he shook with fright.
He said, "Of all the torments
I've witnessed here in Hell,
I never knew what hurting was,
'til I rang your front door bell!"

St Patrick's Mean solar day Leprechaun, aka The Leprechaun

lyrics and music past Marc Gunn

At that place'south a Leprechaun in me head, and I wish that I were dead
For I don't call up he'll always let me be.
Oh, he tempts me with his gold, and if I were e'er so bold,
I'd strangle him and leave him in the street.

* Well, he says to me, "Ah, you lot're no Irish Laddie!
And ye call that matter a harp?"
But each time I share the lore that I am learning.
He hides in shame while my friends they chant.
La ta tee, da diddley dee, la ta tee ta tee da
La ta tee, da diddley diddley dai
La ta tee, da diddley dee, la ta tee ta tee da
La ta tee, da diddley diddley dai

There'southward a leprechaun in my room. He swats me with a broom.
That's the reason I forget the words of this song.
Well, he shows me a 4-leaf clover, and before me song is over,
It'southward cached in a bowl of Lucky Charms.

Ther'es a leprechaun on the floor, and he says that I'm a diameter.
He yawns aloud as I sing my song.
He feigns ane terminal breathe stolen, but I meet his eyes are open.
And he's watching me with envy deep inside.

There'due south a leprechaun on a colina, and his gold is buried in that location.
So I grab him by the neck 'fore he gets away.
The pot'south as well heavy, he giggles, so I compression me only a little,
And he thinks he'southward fooled me equally I run away.

Rosin the Bow

lyrics and music traditional

I've traveled this broad earth all over
And now to another I go.
And I know the good quarters are waiting
To welcome old Rosin the Bow.

To welcome old Rosin the Bow. (x2)
And I know the good quarters are waiting
To welcome old Rosin the Bow.

When I'thou expressionless and laid out on the counter
A voice you volition hear from below,
Saying "Send down a hogshead of whisky
To beverage with old Rosin the Bow.

To drink with erstwhile Rosin the Bow". (x2)
Saying "Send downwardly a hogshead of whisky
To drink with old Rosin the Bow".

And then get a vi stout fellows
And line them all upwards in a row
Let them potable out of one-half gallon bottles
To the memory of Rosin the Bow

To the memory of Rosin the Bow (x2)
Allow them drink out of half gallon bottles
To the memory of Rosin the Bow

And then get a 6 stout fellows
And line them all stagger and go
And let 'em dig a dandy pigsty in the meadow
And in it put Rosin the Bow.

And in it put Rosin the Bow. (x2)
Let 'em dig a not bad hole in the meadow
And in information technology put Rosin the Bow.

And so become ye a couple of bottles.
Put one at me head and me toe.
With a diamond ring scratched upon 'em
The name of old Rosin the Bow.

The proper noun of onetime Rosin the Bow. (x2)
With a diamond ring scratched upon 'em
The proper name of erstwhile Rosin the Bow.

I experience that grim reaper approaching,
That vicious remorseless old foe,
And I lift up me drinking glass in his honour.
Have a drink with sometime Rosin the Bow.

Accept a beverage with old Rosin the Bow. (x2)
And I lift up me glass in his honour.
Take a potable with one-time Rosin the Bow.

Johnny Jump Upward

lyrics and music traditional

I'll tell you a story that happened to me
One solar day as I went down to Yore past the bounding main
The sunday it was hot and the day it was warm,
Says I a quiet pint wouldn't practice me no harm

I went in and I called for a canteen of stout
Says the barman, I'k sorry, all the beer is sold out
Try whiskey or paddy, ten years in the wood
Says I, I'll try cider, I've heard information technology was skilful.

* Oh never, Oh never, Oh never again
If I live to exist a hundred or a hundred and ten
I fell to the footing and I couldn't get up
After drinking a quart of the Johnny Jump Upwardly

After downing the third I went out to the yard
Where I bumped into Brody, the big borough baby-sit
Come here to me boy, don't you lot know I'grand the law?
Well, I up with me fist and I shattered his jaw

He fell to the ground with his knees doubled upwardly
But it wasn't I striking him, 'twas Johnny Jump Up
The next thing I remember down in Cork past the sea
Was a cripple on crutches and says he to me

I'one thousand afraid of me life I'll be hit past a motorcar
Won't you help me across to the Celtic Knot Bar?
Afterwards downing a quart of that cider so sweet
He threw down his crutches and danced on his feet

I went upward the lee route, a friend for to see
They call it the madhouse in Cork by the Sea
Butl when I got in that location, sure the truth I will tell,
They had this poor bugger locked upward in a cell

Said the guard, testing him, say these words if yous can,
"Around the rugged stone the ragged rascal ran"
Tell him I'm not crazy, tell him I'thousand not mad
It was only a sip of the bottle I had

Well, a homo died in the mines by the name of McNabb
They washed him and laid him outside on the slab
And after the parlors measurements did accept
His married woman brought him home to a bloody fine wake

Twas nearly 12 o'clock and the beer was loftier
The corpse sits upwards and says with a sigh
I can't get to sky, they won't let me up
Til I bring them a quart of the Johnny Jump Up

And then if e'er you go down to Cork by the sea
Stay out of the ale house and take it from me
If you want to stay sane don't y'all dare take a sup
Of that devil drink cider chosen Johnny Spring Up

St. Patrick Never Drank

lyrics Thousand. Spaff Sumsion, music Marc Gunn

The 14th day of February'south for Saint Valentine
September 29th is when Saint Michael's faithful dine
On Apr 23rd we hail Saint George without restraint
And come Nov 1st we cheer for EV'RY encarmine saint

Just none of those can merits the very BEST day of the year
'Cause on March 17th we praise the patron saint of BEER!

[Cheers: "Hail St Patrick!" "Slainte!" etc.]

But wait! Don't cheer for greenish beer or Irish cream liqueur
Be-cause the man you toast was 1 devout tee-to-tal-ER!

Saint Patrick never drank! (Hey!)
Saint Patrick never drank! (Hey!)
'Twas but articulate, unleaded stuff he poured into his tank!
He'd take the cash Yous spend for drafts and stash it in the banking concern! (Hooray!)
Heroic, truthful, just STOIC too!
Saint Patrick never drank!

He strode with ancient war-ri-ors from coast to plain to highland
His staff he'd shake till ev'ry serpent was banished from the island
He taught his fans the shamrock stands for Begetter, Son, and Spirit
But don't suspension out the Guinness Stout – the man would not go virtually it!

Saint Patrick didn't drink! (Hey!)
Saint Patrick didn't potable! (Hey!)
He never tossed a bracer back or teetered on the brink!
And then pour another alpine one, lad, and then cascade it down the sink! (Hooray!)
With piety, SOBRIETY!
Saint Patrick didn't drink!

Saint Patrick never drank (Hey!)
Saint Patrick never drank (Hey!)
So let's be frank: When asked his fav'rite beer, he drew a blank!
By gosh, if he could see yous sloshed, he'd requite your tush a spank! (Hooray!)
The guy was swell – simply DRY Equally HELL!
Saint Patrick never drank!

No, SAINT – PAT – RICK – NEV – ER – DRANK!

Dicey Riley

lyrics and music traditional

Poor old Dicey Riley she has taken to the sup.
Poor old Dicey Riley she will never give it up.
For it's off each forenoon to the hock
Where she goes in for some other little drop
Ah the heart of the rowl is Dicey Riley

She walks along Fitzgibbon Street with an independent air
And then it'southward down by Summerhill, where the people stare
She says "It's nearly one-half past one
It's fourth dimension I had some other lilliputian one.'
Ah the heart of the rowl is Dicey Riley.

She owns a trivial sweet store at the corner of the street
And every evening after school I go to launder her feet
She leaves me there to mind the shop while she nips in for another piddling drop
Ah the heart of the rowl is Dicey Riley

Arthur McBride

words and music Traditional

I had a kickoff cousin chosen Arthur McBride
He and I took a stroll down past the seaside;
To seek for good fortune and what might betide
Bring just as the day was a'dawnin'
Then subsequently resting we both took a dram
and met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Cramp
And also a wee drummer who beat up the army camp
With his rowdy-dow-dow in the morn

He said, "My immature fellows if you lot will enlist
A guinea you quickly will take in your fist
And also a whole crown for to kick upward the grit
And drink the King's wellness in the morning
Had we been such fools every bit to take the accelerate;
With the wee flake of money we'd take to run chance
For you'd remember it no scruples to send us to France;
Where we would be killed in the morning

He said, "My young fellows if I hear but one discussion
I instantly now will out with my sword
And into your bodies every bit strength will afford;
So at present my gay devils accept alarm."
Merely Arthur and we soon took the odds;
And we gave them no time for to draw out their blades
Our trusty shillelaghs came over their heads
And paid them right smart in the morning time

Equally for the wee drummer, we rifled his pouch
And nosotros made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow
And into the bounding main to rock and to scroll
And bade him a tedious returning
Every bit for the quondam rapier that hung by his side
We flung it equally far as nosotros could in the tide
"To the Devil I pitch you lot," said Arthur McBride
" To temper your steel in the morning."

Former Dun Cow (MacIntyre)

words and music Harry Wincott, boosted verses by Brad Howard

Some friends and I in a public house
Was playing a game of chance one night
When into the pub a fireman ran
His face all a chalky white.
"What's upwardly", says Dark-brown, "Have yous seen a ghost,
Or have you lot seen your Aunt Mariah?"
"Me Aunt Mariah exist buggered!", says he,
"The bleedin' pub's on fire!"

And in that location was Brownish upside down
Lappin" upwards the whiskey on the flooring.
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried
As they came knockin' on the door (clap clap)
Oh don't allow 'em in till it's all boozer up
And somebody shouted MacIntyre! MACINTYRE!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunkard
When the One-time Dun Cow caught fire.

"Oh well," says Chocolate-brown, "What a bit of luck.
Everybody follow me.
And it's down to the cellar
If the fire's non there
And then nosotros'll have a g old spree."
So nosotros went on down later good quondam Brown
The alcohol nosotros could not miss
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were quite pissed.

Then, Smith walked over to the port wine tub
And gave it only a few difficult knocks (clap clap)
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Too his shoes and socks.
"Concur on, " says Brown, "that own't immune
Ya cannot practise that thing here.
Don't go washin' trousers in the port wine tub
When we got Guinness beer."

Then in that location came from the old back door
The Vicar of the local church.
And when he saw our drunken ways,
He began to scream and curse.
"Ah, you drunken sods! You heathen clods!
You've taken to a drunken spree!
Yous drank up all the Benedictine wine
And yous didn't relieve a drop for me!"

And then there came a mighty crash
Half the encarmine roof caved in.
We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And we nailed ourselves inside
And nosotros sat drinking the finest Rum
Till we were bleary-eyed.

Later that dark, when the burn was out
Nosotros came up from the cellar below.
Our pub was burned. Our alcohol was drunk.
Our heads was hanging low.
"Oh look", says Brown with a look quite queer.
Seems something raised his ire.
"Now we gotta get down to Murphy'due south Pub,
It closes on the hour!"

Isn't It One thousand, Boys?

lyrics and music Traditional

Expect at the coffin with golden handles
Isn't it thousand boys to be bloody well dead?

Permit'south not take a sniffle,
Let's have a bloody good cry
And ever remember the longer y'all live,
The sooner y'all'll encarmine well die

Look at the preacher, bloody well santified (bloody sanctimonious)
Isn't it grand boys to exist bloody well expressionless?

Look at the choir boys, encarmine castrati
Isn't it grand boys to be bloody well dead?

Look at the widow, bloody smashing female
Isn't it g boys to be bloody well dead?

Expect at the mourners, bloody neat hippocrites
Isn't information technology grand boys to be bloody well expressionless?

Await at the flowers, all bloody wilted
Isn't information technology grand boys to exist bloody well expressionless?

Look at the tombstone, bloody cracking boulder
Isn't it grand boys to be bloody well expressionless?

Look at the whiskey, in buckets and bottles
Isn't it thou boys to be encarmine well dead?

The Parting Glass

words and music Traditional

Of all the coin that ere I had, I spent information technology in adept company.
And of all the harm that ere I've done, alas was washed to none but me.
And all I've done for desire of wit, to retention now I cannot call back.
Then fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with y'all all.

Of all the comrades that ere I had, they're sorry for my going away,
And of all the sweethearts that ere I had , they wish me i more than 24-hour interval to stay,
But since information technology falls unto my lot that I should rise while you should not,
I will gently ascent and I'll softly call, "Goodnight and joy be with you all!"

Oh, if I had money plenty to spend and leisure fourth dimension to sit awhile
At that place is a fair maid in this town that sorely has my heart beguiled
Her rosey cheeks and ruby lips, she alone has my heart in thrall.
And so fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all.

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Source: https://marcgunn.com/best-irish-drinking-songs-lyrics/