Dubliners (The)
Whiskey on a Sunday
He sits at the corner of Begger's BushAstride of an old packing crateAnd the dolls at the end of the plank were dancingAs he crooned with a smile on his face:"La da da...Come day, go dayWish in me heart it was SundayDrinking buttermilk all the week,And a whiskey on a Sunday"His tired old hands worked the wooden beamAs the puppets they danced up and downA far better show than you ever will seeIn the fanciest theatre in townLa da da...Come day, go dayWish in me heart it was SundayDrinking buttermilk all the week,And a whiskey on a SundayIn 1902 old Seth Davie diedHis song it was heard no moreThe three dancing dolls in the dustbin were thrownAnd the plank went to mend a back doorLetras de cancionesOn some stormy night if you're passing that wayWith the wind blowing up from the seaYou can still hear the song of old Seth DavieAs he croons to his dancing dolls threeLa da da...Come day, go dayWish in me heart it was SundayDrinking buttermilk all the week,And a whiskey on a SundayDrinking buttermilk all the week,And a whiskey on a Sunday
From Letras Mania