Karaoké Whiskey on a Sunday (The Puppet Song) The Irish Rovers
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Come day go day wish in me heart it were Sunday
Drinking buttermilk through the week whiskey on a Sunday
He sits in the corner of old beggar's bush on top of an old packing crate
He has three wooden dolls that can dance and can sing
And he croons with a smile on his face
Come day go day wish in me heart it were Sunday
Drinking buttermilk through the week whiskey on a Sunday
His tired old hands tug away at the strings
And the puppets they dance up and down
A far better show than you ever would see in the fanciest theatre in town
Come day go day wish in me heart it were Sunday
Drinking buttermilk through the week whiskey on a Sunday
I'm sad to relate that old Seth Davy died in nineteen hundred and four
The three wooden dolls in the dustbin were laid
His song will be heard nevermore
Come day go day wish in me heart it were Sunday
Drinking buttermilk through the week whiskey on a Sunday
Some stormy night when you're passing that way
The wind's blowing up from the sea
You'll still hear the song of old Seth Davy
As he croons to his dancing dolls three
Come day go day wish in me heart it were Sunday
Drinking buttermilk through the week whiskey on a Sunday
Come day go day wish in me heart it were Sunday
Drinking buttermilk through the week whiskey on a Sunday
Informations
Rendu célèbre par The Irish Rovers
Auteur-Compositeur : Trad Arrangeur/Adaptateur : Glyn Hughes
Toute reproduction interdite
Cet enregistrement est une reprise de Whiskey on a Sunday (The Puppet Song) rendu célèbre par The Irish Rovers









