Jonny Jump Up

I'll tell you a story that happened to me: one day as I walked down to Cork by the Lee,
The sun it was high, the day it was warm. Says I, "A quick pint wouldn't do any harm".
I went in and orders a flagon of stout. "Sorry," says the barman, "But the beer's all run out,
Try whiskey; I've had it ten years in the wood." Says I, "I'll have cider; I've heard that it's good."

chorus
But I'll never, no never, no never again, if I live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten.
I fell to the ground and I couldn't get up, after drinking a quart of the Jonny Jump Up.

On October the third when I went down to Yar, I ran into Brophy, that big Civic Guard.
"Come here to me, boy, don't you know I'm the law?" So I opens me fist and I shatters his jaw.
He fell to the ground; his knees doubled up. 'Tweren't I what hit him, ‘twas the Jonny Jump Up.
I swear on me soul I can still hear that sound. "Forgiveness," I cried, "May the Lord strike me down." chorus

I went down to the Pub on a Saturday night, the blokes they were smilin', the band it was tight.
Says he, "Could I buy you some thing for to sup?" You can buy me a quart of the Jonny Jump Up.
They say I was jolly and friendly to all, a-hangin' on to Reilly, afraid that I'd fall.
I even kissed Jim and I'll tell you what's more: I grabbed old MacNeill, hauled him down to the floor. chorus

I went down the Lee road, young Kathryn to see, they call it the Madhouse, in Cork by the Lee.
When I got there, the truth I do tell, they had that poor bugger locked up in her cell.
Said the guard testing her, "Say these words, if you can:
Around the rugged rocks, the ragged rascal ran."
Tell them I'm not crazy, tell them I'm not mad,
It was only a drink of that bottle I had. chorus

d minor
J. Bradley Collier - electric guitar
Craig Merlin Broers - double bass
Bob Bielefeld - C melody saxophone
Baj Burinski - lead voice on third verse
David Roe - ragged rascal
Jim Hancock - guitar and lead voice
The Burly Fredonian Men's Chorus:
Michael Marzella, Gary Mazzu,
Craig Broers, Nelson James, Carl Asch