| Lyrics: | Little Brown Jug
Me and my wife live all alone
In a little log hut we eall our
own;
She loves gin and I love rum,
And don't we have a lot of
fun!
Chorus:
Ha, ha, ha, you and me,
Little brown jug, don't I love
thee!
Ha, ha, ha, you and me,
Little brown jug, don't I love
thee!
Whcn I go toiling on the farm
I take the little jug under my arm;
Place
it under a shady tree,
Little brown jug,'tis you and me. '
'Tis you that makes me
friends and foes,
'Tis you that makes me wear old clothes;
But, seeing you're so near my
nose,
Tip her up and down she goes.
If all the folks in Adam's race
Were
gathered together in one place,
Then I'd prepare to shed a tear (I'd let them go without a
tear)
Before I'd part from you, my dear.
If I'd a cow that gave such milk,
I'd
dress her in the finest silk;
Feed her up on oats and hay,
And milk her twenty times a
day.
I bought a eow from Farmer Jones,
And she was nothing but skin and
bones;
I fed her up as fine as silk,
She jumped the fenee and strained her
milk.
And when I die don't bury me at all,
Just piekle my bones in
alcohol;
I'ut a bottle o' booze at my head and feet
And then I know that I will
keep.
The rose is red, my nose is tbo,
The violets blue and so are you;
And
yet, I guess, before I stop,
We'd better take another drop.
From American Ballads
and Folk Songs, Lomax
@drink
filename[ BROWNJUG
play.exe
BROWNJUG
RG
===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY |
