Whiskey in the Jar

notes:
historical: Here, just for variety is another Irish song about whiskey. I'm Irish so I'm allowed to say stuff like that. Actually I believe this song is Scottish. It's very, very old and has tons of variations. My dad likes to listen to some Scottish traditional version, really loudly, in his car with the windows rolled down as he drives around New York City.
CDs/MP3s: The Proddy's haven't recorded this, I don't think. If you want to give ole Lars a big middle finger, you can always try to find the Metallica version on Napster. That action is specifically NOT endorsed by this website or anyone or anything associated with it, mainly because I've heard that version and I hate it. You can't sue me anyway, I don't have any money.
special Prodigals info: Who knows what the Prodigals sing? It's something like this. Ray sings it so your guess is as good as mine. We still love you, Ray.

Whiskey in the Jar

As I was a going over Gillgarry Mountain,
I spied Colonel Farrell and his money he was countin'.
First I drew me pistol and then I drew me rapier,
Sayin' stand and deliver for I am your bold receiver.

chorus: Well shirigim duraham da
Wack fall the daddy oh, wack fall the daddy oh
There's whiskey in the jar.

He counted out his money and it made a pretty penny,
I put it in me pocket to take home to darling' Jenny.
She sighed and swore she loved me and never would deceive me
But the devil take the women for they always lie so easy.

chorus

I went into me chamber all for to take a slumber
To dream of gold and girls and of course it was no wonder.
Me Jenny took me charges and she filled them up with water,
Called on colonel Farrell to get ready for the slaughter.

chorus

Next morning early before I rose to travel,
There came a band of footmen and likewise Colonel Farrell.
I goes to draw me pistol for she'd stole away me rapier,
but a prisoner I was taken I couldn't shoot the water.

chorus

They put me into jail with a judge all a writin'
For robbing Colonel Farrell on Gilgarry Mountain.
But they didn't take me fists so I knocked the jailer down,
And bid a farewell to this tight fisted town.

chorus

I'd like to find me brother the one that's in the army,
I don't know where he's stationed in Cork or in Killarney.
Together we'd go roving o'r the mountains of Killkenney,
And I swear he'd treat me better than me darling' sporting Jenny.

chorus

There's some takes delight in the carriages and rolling,
Some takes delight in the hurley or the bowlin'.
But I takes delight in the juice of the barley,
Courting pretty maids in the mourning oh so early.