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Whiskey in the Jar

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Whiskey in the Jar

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Whiskey in the Jar
(Smothers Brothers)

As I was a goin' to the North Pole so merry
  I met a St. Bernard, he was short and squat and hairy.
So I drew forth this stick and was gettin' set to heave it
  Sayin', "Fetch and deliver for you are a born retreiver."


Up around his neck, there was hung a keg of whiskey,
  Now and then Old Rover took a snort and got so frisky.
As he chased the stick he would do a tricky waddle,
  Though he really wasn't tricky, he was pie-eyed from the bottle.

I threw the stick so far, it was kinda hard to trace it.
  Ol' Rover said, "Bow, wow!", and was gettin' set to chase it.
But a car came driving by and he changed his mind and sought it,
  Though I knew he couldn't drive one, not even if he caught it.

Well, that's about the end of my song and poor Ol' Rover.
  He caught it in a fan-belt, and his rovin' days are over.
That poor retreiver lies b'neath the ground so cold and chilly
  And I have to fetch the stick myself.  Boy! Do I look silly!
Copyright Smothers Brothers
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