Jones' Ale (II)
There were three jovial fellows
Came over the hills together.
Came over the hills together
To join the jovial crew.
And they've flung themselves down upon ground
And passed light glasses all around,
And then they called for another round
When Jones's ale was new me boys,
When Jones's ale was new.
And they called for more pots
And more pints and more glasses
And all they got was tanker's asses.
And oh, what fun they had with their lasses
When Jones's ale was new me boys,
When Jones's ale was new.
Now the first to come in was the tinker.
My God, he was no drinker.
My God, he was no drinker
To join a jovial crew.
''These signs and these pots and these pans and these kettles
They're all made of the finest metal,''
And how his tongue began to prattle
Now, the next to come in was a mason
With his hammer and chisel to face 'em.
With his hammer and chisel to face 'em
To join the jovial crew.
For he flung his old hammer against the wall
And that'll make churches and chapels to fall,
And that'll make work for masons all
Now the last to come in was the barber,
And he swore he came from Scarborough.
He swore he came from Scarborough,
To join the jovial crew.
But he flung his old razor against the wall
And we never got ourselves shaved at all,
And that'll make work for barbers all
See also JONESALE
@drink
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