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Whiskey in the Jar 
Whiskey in the Jar (Smothers Brothers) 
As I was a goin' to the North Pole so merry I met a St. Bernard, he was short and squat and hairy. So I drew forth this stick and was gettin' set to heave it Sayin', "Fetch and deliver for you are a born retreiver." 
Chorus: Mush-a.... 
Up around his neck, there was hung a keg of whiskey, Now and then Old Rover took a snort and got so frisky. As he chased the stick he would do a tricky waddle, Though he really wasn't tricky, he was pie-eyed from the bottle. 
I threw the stick so far, it was kinda hard to trace it. Ol' Rover said, "Bow, wow!", and was gettin' set to chase it. But a car came driving by and he changed his mind and sought it, Though I knew he couldn't drive one, not even if he caught it. 
Well, that's about the end of my song and poor Ol' Rover. He caught it in a fan-belt, and his rovin' days are over. That poor retreiver lies b'neath the ground so cold and chilly And I have to fetch the stick myself. Boy! Do I look silly! 
Copyright Smothers Brothers AJS oct97