G

As I was sitting with Jug and spoon

D G

One fine morning in the month of June

C

A small bird sat on an ivy bunch

G D7 G

And the song he sang was the jug of punch.

Chorus:

G

Too-rah-loo-rah-loo, Too-rah-loo-rah-lay

D G

Too-rah-loo-rah-loo, Too-rah-loo-rah-lay

C

A small bird sat on an ivy bush

G C D7 G

And the song he sang was the jug of punch.

(NOTE: last 2 lines of each verse are the last lines of its chorus)

G

If I were sick and in my bed

D G

And was not able to go or stand

C

I would not think it at all amiss

G C D7 G

To pledge my shoes for a jug of punch. CHORUS

G

The learned doctors with all their art

D G

Cannot cure the impression that's on the heart

C

Even the cripple forgets his hunch

G C D7 G

When he's safe outside with a jug of punch...CHORUS

G

What more diversion can a man desire

D G

Than to sit him down by a neat turf fire

C

Upon his knee a pretty wench

G C D7 G

And upon the table a jug of punch...CHORUS

G

And when I'm dead and in my grave

D G

No costly tomb stone will I have

C

Just lay me down in my native peat

G C D7 G

With a jug of punch at my head and feet. ...CHORUS