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Jones' Ale (II) There were three jovial fellows Came over the hills together. Came over the hills together To join the jovial crew. And they've flung themselves down upon ground And passed light glasses all around, And then they called for another round When Jones's ale was new me boys, When Jones's ale was new. And they called for more pots And more pints and more glasses And all they got was tanker's asses. And oh, what fun they had with their lasses When Jones's ale was new me boys, When Jones's ale was new. Now the first to come in was the tinker. My God, he was no drinker. My God, he was no drinker To join a jovial crew. ``These signs and these pots and these pans and these kettles They're all made of the finest metal,'' And how his tongue began to prattle Now, the next to come in was a mason With his hammer and chisel to face 'em. With his hammer and chisel to face 'em To join the jovial crew. For he flung his old hammer against the wall And that'll make churches and chapels to fall, And that'll make work for masons all Now the last to come in was the barber, And he swore he came from Scarborough. He swore he came from Scarborough, To join the jovial crew. But he flung his old razor against the wall And we never got ourselves shaved at all, And that'll make work for barbers all See also Jones' Ale BR
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!