Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Johnny Jump Up


Now THAT'S what I call Wearing Of The Green!


It's Saint Patrick's Day here in the United States. Unlike the Emerald Isle, the snakes are out in full force and I worry each and every time I let the dog out. It's also traditional here to drink oneself silly on this day. AN activity I may no longer participate in as the consequences are dire. Where normal folk eventually conclude they have had enough, I can only say, "Another round, barkeep." Even if I've fallen off my barstool a half dozen times already. Then there is the pugilism streak. Like all small men, I think I'm indefeatable when I have a quart of whiskey in me. And Lord help us all if it's been hard cider, AKA "Johnny Jump Up" that I've been drinking -- then I want to take on the whole bar. Only Tequila makes me meaner. But let's just enjoy the lyrics to the traditional humorous poke at ourselves the Irish call "Johnny Jump Up"


Johnny Jump Up

I'll tell you a story that happened to me

One day as I went down to Cork by the sea
The sun it was hot and the day it was warm,
Says I a quiet pint wouldn't do me no harm

I went in and I called for a bottle of stout

Says the barman, I'm sorry, all the beer is sold out
Try whiskey or paddy, ten years in the wood
Says I, I'll try cider, I've heard it was good.


Oh never, Oh never, Oh never again

If I live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten
I fell to the ground and I couldn't get up
After drinking a quart of the Johnny Jump Up
After downing the third I went out to the yard

Where I bumped into Brody, the big civic guard
Come here to me boy, don't you know I'm the law?
Well, I up with me fist and I shattered his jaw

He fell to the ground with his knees doubled up

But it wasn't I hit him, 'twas Johnny Jump Up
The next thing I remember down in Cork by the sea
Was a cripple on crutches and says he to me

I'm afraid of me life I'll be hit by a car

Won't you help me across to the Celtic Knot Bar?
After downing a quart of that cider so sweet
He threw down his crutches and danced on his feet

I went up the lee road, a friend for to see

They call it the madhouse in Cork by the Sea
Butl when I got there, sure the truth I will tell,
They had this poor bugger locked up in a cell

Said the guard, testing him, say these words if you can,

"Around the rugged rock the ragged rascal ran"
Tell him I'm not crazy, tell him I'm not mad
It was only a sip of the bottle I had

Well, a man died in the mines by the name of McNabb

They washed him and laid him outside on the slab
And after the parlors measurements did take
His wife brought him home to a bloody fine wake

Twas about 12 o'clock and the beer was high

The corpse sits up and says with a sigh
I can't get to heaven, they won't let me up
Til I bring them a quart of the Johnny Jump Up

So if ever you go down to Cork by the sea

Stay out of the ale house and take it from me
If you want to stay sane don't you dare take a sup
Of that devil drink cider called Johnny Jump Up



Have a Good Day and don't be drinking any of the 'Johnny Jump Up' me boy-o's.

3 comments:

Dizzy-Dick said...

I quit drinking years ago. That is why I am still alive today, the quitting not the drinking.

Wil said...

Ditto. Thirty-seven years and counting ... almost daily.

Jon said...

Unfortunately, when St. Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland, they all came over here.
I enjoyed "Johnny Jump Up" - - and I was delightfully sober today.

Happy St. Paddy's Day!