| Now brave boys, we’re on the march | 
| off to Portugal and Spain | 
| Drums are beating, banners flying | 
| the Devil at home will come tonight | 
| so it’s go, fare thee well | 
| with a too da loo ra loo ra doo de da | 
| a too ra loo ra loo ra doo de da me rikes fall too ra laddie-o | 
| there’s whisky in the jar | 
| Oh, whisky you’re the devil | 
| you’re leading me astray | 
| over hills and mountains | 
| and to Amerikay | 
| you’re sweetness from the Bleachner | 
| and spunkier than tea | 
| oh whisky you’re my darling drunk or sober | 
| The French are fighting boldly | 
| men are dying hot and coldly | 
| give every man his flask of powder | 
| his firelock on his shoulder | 
| so its go, fare thee well | 
| with a too da loo ra loo ra doo de da | 
| a too ra loo ra loo ra doo de da me rikes fall too ra laddie-o | 
| there’s whisky in the jar | 
| Oh, whisky you’re the devil | 
| you’re leading me astray | 
| over hills and mountains | 
| and to Amerikay | 
| you’re sweetness from the Bleachner | 
| and spunkier than tea | 
| oh whisky you’re my darling drunk or sober | 
| Says the old wan do not wrong me don’t take me daughter from me for if you do I will torment you | 
| when I’m dead my ghost will haunt you | 
| so its go, fare thee well | 
| with a too da loo ra loo ra doo de da | 
| a too ra loo ra loo ra doo de da me rikes fall too ra laddie-o | 
| there’s whisky in the jar | 
| Oh, whisky you’re the devil | 
| you’re leading me astray | 
| over hills and mountains | 
| and to Amerikay | 
| you’re sweetness from the Bleachner | 
| and spunkier than tea | 
| oh whisky you’re my darling drunk or sober | 
| Oh, whisky you’re the devil | 
| you’re leading me astray | 
| over hills and mountains | 
| and to Amerikay | 
| you’re sweetness from the Bleachner | 
| and spunkier than tea | 
| oh whisky you’re my darling drunk or sober |