Jeremy Taylor, a brewer by trade
Walk him along, John, carry him along
Was so fond of trying each brew that he made
Carry him to his burying ground
Tell me, what did he drink then,
Walk him along, John, carry him along
And how much did he drink then,
Carry him to his burying ground
First off he drank a pint of his best
Walk him along, John, carry him along
He liked it so much that he drank all the rest
Carry him to his burying ground
Tell me, what did he drink then,
Walk him along, John, carry him along
And how much did he drink then,
Carry him to his burying ground
Somebody gave him a bottle of wine
Walk him along, John, carry him along
He drank up one glass, then two more - or nine
Carry him to his burying ground
Tell me, what did he drink then,
Walk him along, John, carry him along
And how much did he drink then,
Carry him to his burying ground
Then he did fancy a bottle of stout
Walk him along, John, carry him along
And when he had finished, the bar had run out
Carry him to his burying ground
Tell me, what did he drink then,
Walk him along, John, carry him along
And how much did he drink then,
Carry him to his burying ground
A bottle of whiskey he spied on the shelf
Walk him along, John, carry him along
Selfish old Taylor kept it to himself
Carry him to his burying ground
Tell me, what did he drink then,
Walk him along, John, carry him along
And how much did he drink then,
Carry him to his burying ground
He knew that his wife kept a bottle of rum
Walk him along, John, carry him along
A jigger or two, and he'd drunk himself dumb
Carry him to his burying ground
Tell me, what did he drink then,
Walk him along, John, carry him along
And how much did he drink then,
Carry him to his burying ground
A Portugese sailor stood him to some port
Walk him along, John, carry him along
I dare say old Taylor drunk more than he ought
Carry him to his burying ground
Tell me, what did he drink then,
Walk him along, John, carry him along
And how much did he drink then,
Carry him to his burying ground
They found him next morning, still propped at the bar
Walk him along, John, carry him along
A smile on his face, but he'll drink up no more
Carry him to his burying ground
Tell me, what did he drink then,
Walk him along, John, carry him along
And how much did he drink then,
Carry him to his burying ground
the Hypochondriac's Anthem.....
Swellin' Up
Well, come on gather all around me, I have something new to show -
Where I had my operation, and where the scar does go,
It is long and it is red, it will make you cringe to see,
And you'll be surprised, it stretches from my elbow to my knee
Oh, oh, oh, it's hurting
I feel a twinge inside
Oh, oh, oh, it's sore
I tell you that it's swelling up tonight
The nurses were so kind and all the doctors they did care
They were so surprised to find out what I had exactly where,
So they did cut me, they did stitch me, they did bandage me away
And you have gathered there like vultures while in my sickbed I lay
Oh, oh, oh, it's hurting
I feel a twinge inside
Oh, oh, oh, it's sore
I tell you that it's swelling up tonight
I've got stitches, I've got bruises, I've got needles in my arm
I've got tubes stuck up my nostrils, I've got drugs to keep me calm...
More like "when I'm down I can't get up"?
When I'm P***ed
When I'm P*****ed I can't stand up
Can't stand up, can't stay upright
When I'm P*****ed I can't stand up
Keep my feet both on the ground
I just fall down.....
I just went boozing, my balance I am losing
My head has started woozing, and it comes on strong
Nice time I'm having, lots of beer I'm drinking
My senses they are sinking, and I trip along
I trip along, and I am falling...
I am falling, I am falling..
When I'm P*****ed I can't stand up
Can't stand up, can't stay upright
When I'm P*****ed I can't stand up
Keep my feet both on the ground
I just fall down.....
Tomorrow's coming, my head it will be thumping
My stomach needs a pumping, and I'll feel so sick
Right now I need a curry, gonna have one in a hurry
In the morning I will worry, when my head is thick
And I am sick, when I am hurling
Room is whirling, all a-twirling...
When I'm P*****ed I can't stand up
Can't stand up, can't stay upright
When I'm P*****ed I can't stand up
Keep my feet both on the ground
I just fall down.....
(Chorus ad nauseam....)
If you have problems with the e-mail button above, my address is teddy@ukonline.co.uk