| Jug Of Punch
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| 'Twas early, early, in the month of June
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| I was sitting with my glass and spoon
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| A small bird sat on an ivy bunch
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| And the song he sang was a jug of punch
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| CHO: Toor-a-loora-la, toor-a-loora-lie
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| Toor-a-loora-la, toor-a-loora-lie
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| (repeat last two lines of verse)
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| If I were sick, and very bad
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| And were not able to go or stand
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| I would not think it at all amiss
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| To pledge my shoes for a jug of punch
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| CHO:
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| What more diversion can a man desire
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| Than to sit him down by a snug turf fire
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| Upon his knee a pretty wench
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| And upon his table a jug of punch
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| CHO:
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| And when I’m dead and in my grave
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| No costly tombstone will I have
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| I’ll dig a grave both wide and deep
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| With a jug of punch at my head and feet
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| Recorded by Clancys, Galvin
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| @Irish @drink
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| Filename[ JUGPUNCH
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| Play.exe JUGPUNCH
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| RG
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| ===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY |