Whiskey On A Sunday Lyrics

Whiskey On A Sunday lyrics

He sits on the corner of Beggars Bush 

 Astride of an old packing case 

 And the dolls at the end  

 of the plank were dancing 

 As he crooned with a smile on his face 

  

 Come day go day 

 Whishing in me heart it was Sunday 

 Drinking buttermilk all the week 

 Whiskey on a Sunday 

  

 His tired old hands from the wooden beam 

 And the puppets they danced up and down 

 A far better show than you ever would see 

 In the fanciest theatre in town 

  

 But in 1902 old Seth Daly died 

 His song it was heard no more 

 The three dancing dolls  

 in the dustbin were thrown 

 And the plank went to mend the backdoor 

  

 But on some stormy night  

 if you´re passing that way 

 With the wind blowing up from the sea 

 You can still hear the song  

 of old Seth Daly 

 As he croons to his dancing dolls three