Whiskey on a Sunday 歌詞
Whiskey On A Sunday - Dingle Folk
He sits at the corner of Begger's Bush
Astride of an old packing case
And the dolls at the end of the plank were dance
As he crooned with a smile on his face
Come day go day
Wish in my heart it was Sunday
Drinking buttermilk all the week
Whiskey on a Sunday
His tired old hands worked the wooden beam
Puppets they danced up and down
A far better show you will never have see
In the fanciest theatre in town
Come day go day
Wish in my heart it was Sunday
Drinking buttermilk all the week
Whiskey on a Sunday
In nineteen or two old Seth Davie died
His song was heard no more
And the three dancing dolls to the dustbin were thrown
And the plank went to mend a back door
Come day go day
And wish in my heart it was Sunday
Drinking buttermilk all the week
Whiskey on a Sunday
But some stormy night if you're passing that way
With the wind blowing up from the sea
You still hear the song of old Seth Daviesen
As he croons to his dancing dolls three
Come day go day
Wish in my heart it was Sunday
Drinking buttermilk all the week
Whiskey on a Sunday