| 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 |