Текст песни: The Jug Of Punch + перевод

As I was sitting with a jug and spoon, one Sunday morning in the month of June

A birdie sang in an ivy bunch and the song he sang was the jug of punch

Tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu

A birdie sang in an ivy bunch and the song he sang was the jug of punch

What more diversion can a man desire than to court a girl by a cheerful fire?

A carey pippin to crack and crunch and on the table a jug of punch

Tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu

A carey pippin to crack and crunch and on the table a jug of punch

Ye mortal lords, drink your nectar wine and ye quality folk, sip your claret

fine

I’d give them all the grapes in the bunch for a jolly pull at my jug of punch

Tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu

I’d give them all the grapes in the bunch for a jolly pull at my jug of punch

Ye learned doctors, with all your art, cannot cure a depression on the heart

But even a cripple forgets his hunch when he’s snug outside of a jug of punch

Tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu

But even a cripple forgets his hunch when he’s snug outside of a jug of punch

And when I’m dead and I’m in my grave, no costly tombstone do I ever crave

Just lay me down in my native peat with a jug of punch at my head and feet

Tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu

Just lay me down in my native peat with a jug of punch at my head and feet.

(Ooo, Ooo)

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