The Poitin Song chords by The Irish Rovers
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Verse 1
Let your (F major) quacks and newspapers
be (C major) cutting their capers
And (F major) curing the vapors,
the scratch or the (D major) gout
With their (F major) magical potions,
their (C major) pills and their lotions
(F major) Upholding their (C major) no tions,
well, (F major) they're mighty put out
What's good for the sneezing,
the coughing and wheezing
(C major) Likewise will (F major) be azing,
cram colic or spleen
Well, you'll know it, I think,
if you take a big (C major) drink
With your mouth full (F major) to the brink
(C major) of a jug (E major) of poitin
So, (C major) stick (F major) to the crater,
the best thing in nature
(C major) For sinking your (F major) sorrows
and raising your joys
It's one of life's pleasures
to (E major) sip at your leis (C major) ure
It's (F major) Ireland's own treasure,
the poitin, boys
As a child in the cradle
me (E major) nurse with her ladle
was filling me (F major) mouth with an ocean of pop
Till a drop from her bottle
fell into me throttle.
I capered and (C major) toppled all
(F major) (E major) out of her lap
(C major) On the (E major) floor I lay squalling
(F major) and screaming and bawling
Till (E major) my parents (F major) came calling
and (E major) stepped to the (F major) floor
All sobbing (E major) and sighing
(C major) they thought I was dying
But (F major) I was just crying
for a (E major) drop or two more.
(B major) So, stick (D sharp major) to the (F major) crater,
the best thing in nature,
For (E major) sinking your (F major) sorrows
and raising your joys.
It's one of life's pleasures
to sip at (E major) your leisure,
It's (A minor) Ire land's own treas (E major) ure,
(F major) the Pudge in me boys.
Come (E major) guess me this riddle,
what baits, (B major) pipes and fiddle
(E major) Was hotter than mustard
and smoother than (C sharp major) cream?
(E major) What best would your whistle?
Was clearer (B major) than crystal,
Was sweeter than (E major) honey
and (G sharp major) stronger (D sharp major) than (E major) steam?
(B major) What'll make the lamb (E major) walk?
What'll make the dumb talk?
The elixir of life,
the philosopher's stone?
And might help Mr. Brunnell
to dig the Thames (B major) Tunnel
Sure (E major) wasn't it poch (B major) in'
from (E major) Owl in a shawn
So (B major) stick (E major) to (D sharp major) the (E major) crater,
the best thing in nature
For (D sharp major) sinkin' your (E major) sorrows
and raisin' your joys
It's one of life's pleasures
to sip at your leis (B major) ure
It's (E major) irons on treasure, (B major)
(E major) they're patching me boys.
Well the English I'm thinking,
(D sharp major) to say that they're (E major) drinking,
And their glasses are clinking,
while (D sharp major) their senses take (C sharp major) leave.
(E major) Should they'll soon be demented,
from (D sharp major) apples fermented,
(E major) Just look what tar minted,
bought (D sharp major) Adam and Eve.
(E major) Now the French have their brandy,
it makes them quite randy,
(B major) And they find it (E major) goes handy
with (D sharp major) in her (E major) arty
And a single malt whisky
can make the Scots frisky
But for (G sharp minor) quenching the (E major) thirst,
it's the Pudgeon (D sharp major) for me
So (E major) stick (D sharp major) to the crater,
(E major) the best thing in nature
For (D sharp major) sink ing your (E major) sorrows
and raising your joys
It's one of life's pleasures,
to sip at your leisure.
(D sharp major) It's (E major) irons on treasure.
The Pudgy Millie Boys!
Have another drink, boys.
There we go.
That's Sean O'Driscoll. Well done.
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