The Humors Of Whiskey lyrics and chords
Also known as '' come guess me this riddle ''A traditional folk song. [ Hozier version of the sheet music included and suitable for flute ]The guitar chords are in chordpro.. The song was written by Joseph Lunn around 1825. Recorded by Tom Lenihan and sometimes known as ''Paddy's Panacea'' also recorded by The Clancys And Tommy Makem.Also by singer Andy M Stewart who also recorded the song ramblin' rover . Of all the songs on the site about Whiskey, and believe be there's a lot, Whiskey In The Jar Song is the most well known of them all .The youtube video is of Tony Giblin.The humors of whiskey harmonica sheet music tab included. Key of C.
The piano sheet music with chords and bass is in the ebook here .
The link below is for the 5 string banjo tab in Open G tuning.
The piano sheet music with chords and bass is in the ebook here .
The link below is for the 5 string banjo tab in Open G tuning.
Song Words And Chords In The Key Of A Major
[A]Let your quacks and newspapers be [E]cuttin' their capers
And [D]curing the [A]Vapours, the[E] Scratch and the Gout.
With[A] their medical potions,[E] their pills and their lotions,
Up[D]holdin' their[A] notions, they're[E] mighty put[A] out.
Who [A]can tell the true physic of [E]all things pathetic
And[D] pitch to the [A]Devil Cramp,[E] Colic and Spleen?
Oh[A] you'll find them I think if you [E]take a big drink
With your [D]mouth to the[A] brink of a[E] jug of Po[A]teen.
Then[A] stick to the Cratur the[E] best thing in nature
For[D] sinkin' your[A] sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh[A] what botherations no [E]bolt to the nation
Can[D] bring consol[A]ation like [E]Poteen me[A] boys.
No liquid cosmetic to lovers athletic
Or ladies pathetic can bring such a bloom
As the sweet, by the powers to the garden of flowers
Never brought it own powers such a darlin' perfume.
And this liquid's so rare if you're willin' to share
To be takin' your hair when its grizzled and dead.
Oh the Sod has the merit to yield the true spirit
So strong it'll shake all the hairs from your head.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh since its perfection no doctor's direction
Can cleanse the complexion like Poteen me boys.
As a child in my cradle the nurse from her ladle
Was swillin' her mouth with a notion of ``Pep''
When a drop from her bottle fell into me throttle.
I capered and scrambled right out of her lap.
On the floor I lay crawlin' and screamin' and bawlin'
Till Father and Mother soon came to the fore.
Conceived I lay dying, all wailing and crying
They found I was only a-cryin' for more.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord how I'd chuckle if babes in their truckle
Could only be suckled on Poteen me boys.
Through youthful digressions and times of depression
My childhood impression still clung to me mind.
In school and in college the basis of knowledge
I never could gulp 'till with whiskey combined.
Now as older I'm growin', time's ever bestowin'
On Erin's potation a flavour so fine
And how e're they may lecture on Jove and his nectar
Itself is the only true liquid divine.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord it's the right thing for courtin' and fightin'
There's nowt so exciting as Poteen me boys.
Come guess me this riddle what beats pipes and fiddle
What's hotter than mustard and wilder than cream?
What best wets your whistle, what's clearer than crystal
Smoother than honey and stronger than steam
What'll make the dumb talk, what'll make the lame walk
The elixir of life and philosopher's stone
And what helped Mr. Brunell to dig the Thames tunnel
Wasn't it Poteen me boys from old Innishowen.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord knows I wonder if lightning and thunder
Was made from the plunder of Poteen me boys.
Irish song lyrics G-J
[A]Let your quacks and newspapers be [E]cuttin' their capers
And [D]curing the [A]Vapours, the[E] Scratch and the Gout.
With[A] their medical potions,[E] their pills and their lotions,
Up[D]holdin' their[A] notions, they're[E] mighty put[A] out.
Who [A]can tell the true physic of [E]all things pathetic
And[D] pitch to the [A]Devil Cramp,[E] Colic and Spleen?
Oh[A] you'll find them I think if you [E]take a big drink
With your [D]mouth to the[A] brink of a[E] jug of Po[A]teen.
Then[A] stick to the Cratur the[E] best thing in nature
For[D] sinkin' your[A] sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh[A] what botherations no [E]bolt to the nation
Can[D] bring consol[A]ation like [E]Poteen me[A] boys.
No liquid cosmetic to lovers athletic
Or ladies pathetic can bring such a bloom
As the sweet, by the powers to the garden of flowers
Never brought it own powers such a darlin' perfume.
And this liquid's so rare if you're willin' to share
To be takin' your hair when its grizzled and dead.
Oh the Sod has the merit to yield the true spirit
So strong it'll shake all the hairs from your head.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh since its perfection no doctor's direction
Can cleanse the complexion like Poteen me boys.
As a child in my cradle the nurse from her ladle
Was swillin' her mouth with a notion of ``Pep''
When a drop from her bottle fell into me throttle.
I capered and scrambled right out of her lap.
On the floor I lay crawlin' and screamin' and bawlin'
Till Father and Mother soon came to the fore.
Conceived I lay dying, all wailing and crying
They found I was only a-cryin' for more.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord how I'd chuckle if babes in their truckle
Could only be suckled on Poteen me boys.
Through youthful digressions and times of depression
My childhood impression still clung to me mind.
In school and in college the basis of knowledge
I never could gulp 'till with whiskey combined.
Now as older I'm growin', time's ever bestowin'
On Erin's potation a flavour so fine
And how e're they may lecture on Jove and his nectar
Itself is the only true liquid divine.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord it's the right thing for courtin' and fightin'
There's nowt so exciting as Poteen me boys.
Come guess me this riddle what beats pipes and fiddle
What's hotter than mustard and wilder than cream?
What best wets your whistle, what's clearer than crystal
Smoother than honey and stronger than steam
What'll make the dumb talk, what'll make the lame walk
The elixir of life and philosopher's stone
And what helped Mr. Brunell to dig the Thames tunnel
Wasn't it Poteen me boys from old Innishowen.
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord knows I wonder if lightning and thunder
Was made from the plunder of Poteen me boys.
Irish song lyrics G-J
Chords for all the verses in A.
[A]Let your quacks and newspapers be [E]cuttin' their capers
And [D]curing the [A]Vapours, the [E]Scratch and the Gout.
With [A]their medical potions, [E]their pills and their lotions,
Up [D]holdin' their [A]notions, they're [E]mighty put [A]out.
Who [A]can tell the true physic of [E]all things pathetic
And [D]pitch to the [A]Devil Cramp, [E]Colic and Spleen?
Oh [A]you'll find them I think if you [E]take a big drink
With your [D]mouth to the [A]brink of a [E]jug of Po[A]teen.
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]what botherations no [E]bolt to the nation
Can [D]bring consol[A]ation like [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
[2]
[A]No liquid cosmetic to [E]lovers athletic
Or [D]ladies pa[A]thetic can [E]bring such a bloom.
As the [A]sweet, by the powers, to the [E]garden of flowers,
Never [D]brought its own [A]powers such a [E]darlin' per[A]fume.
And this [A]liquid’s so rare if you're [E]willing to share
It’ll [D]be takin’ your [A]hair when it's [E]grizzled and dead.
Oh the [A]Sod has the merit to [E]yield the true spirit
So [D]strong it'll [A]shake all the [E]hairs from your [A]head.
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]since its perfection no [E]doctor's direction
Can [D]cleanse the com[A]plexion like [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
[3]
[A]As a child in my cradle the [E]nurse from her ladle
Was [D]swillin' her [A]mouth with a [E]notion of “Pep”.
When a [A]drop from her bottle fell [E]into me throttle,
I [D]capered and [A]scrambled right [E]out of her [A]lap.
On the [A]floor I lay crawlin' and [E]screamin' and bawlin',
Till [D]Father and [A]Mother soon [E]came to the fore.
Con[A]ceived I lay dying, all [E]wailing and crying,
They [D]found I was [A]only a-[E]cryin' for [A]more.
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]Lord how I'd chuckle if [E]babes in their truckle
Could [D]only be [A]suckled on [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
[4]
[A]Through youthful digressions and [E]times of depression,
My [D]childhood im[A]pression still [E]clung to me mind.
In [A]school and in college the [E]basis of knowledge
I [D]never could [A]gulp till with [E]whiskey com[A]bined.
Now as [A]older I'm growin', time's [E]ever bestowin'
On [D]Erin's po[A]tation a [E]flavour so fine.
And how [A]e'er they may lecture on [E]Jove and his nectar,
It[A]self is the [A]only true [E]liquid di[A]vine.
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]Lord it's the right thing for [E]courtin' and fightin',
There's [D]nowt so ex[A]citin' as [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
[5]
[A]Come guess me this riddle what [E]beats pipes and fiddle,
What's [D]hotter than [A]mustard and [E]wilder than cream?
What [A]best wets your whistle, what's [E]clearer than crystal,
Smooth[D]er than [A]honey and [E]stronger than [A]steam?
What'll [A]make the dumb talk, what'll [E]make the lame walk,
The [D]elixir of [A]life and phi[E]losopher's stone?
And what [A]helped Mr. Brunell to [E]dig the Thames tunnel —
Wasn’t it [D]Poteen me [A]boys from old [E]Innish[A]owen!
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]Lord knows I wonder if [E]lightning and thunder
Was [D]made from the [A]plunder of [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
[A]Let your quacks and newspapers be [E]cuttin' their capers
And [D]curing the [A]Vapours, the [E]Scratch and the Gout.
With [A]their medical potions, [E]their pills and their lotions,
Up [D]holdin' their [A]notions, they're [E]mighty put [A]out.
Who [A]can tell the true physic of [E]all things pathetic
And [D]pitch to the [A]Devil Cramp, [E]Colic and Spleen?
Oh [A]you'll find them I think if you [E]take a big drink
With your [D]mouth to the [A]brink of a [E]jug of Po[A]teen.
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]what botherations no [E]bolt to the nation
Can [D]bring consol[A]ation like [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
[2]
[A]No liquid cosmetic to [E]lovers athletic
Or [D]ladies pa[A]thetic can [E]bring such a bloom.
As the [A]sweet, by the powers, to the [E]garden of flowers,
Never [D]brought its own [A]powers such a [E]darlin' per[A]fume.
And this [A]liquid’s so rare if you're [E]willing to share
It’ll [D]be takin’ your [A]hair when it's [E]grizzled and dead.
Oh the [A]Sod has the merit to [E]yield the true spirit
So [D]strong it'll [A]shake all the [E]hairs from your [A]head.
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]since its perfection no [E]doctor's direction
Can [D]cleanse the com[A]plexion like [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
[3]
[A]As a child in my cradle the [E]nurse from her ladle
Was [D]swillin' her [A]mouth with a [E]notion of “Pep”.
When a [A]drop from her bottle fell [E]into me throttle,
I [D]capered and [A]scrambled right [E]out of her [A]lap.
On the [A]floor I lay crawlin' and [E]screamin' and bawlin',
Till [D]Father and [A]Mother soon [E]came to the fore.
Con[A]ceived I lay dying, all [E]wailing and crying,
They [D]found I was [A]only a-[E]cryin' for [A]more.
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]Lord how I'd chuckle if [E]babes in their truckle
Could [D]only be [A]suckled on [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
[4]
[A]Through youthful digressions and [E]times of depression,
My [D]childhood im[A]pression still [E]clung to me mind.
In [A]school and in college the [E]basis of knowledge
I [D]never could [A]gulp till with [E]whiskey com[A]bined.
Now as [A]older I'm growin', time's [E]ever bestowin'
On [D]Erin's po[A]tation a [E]flavour so fine.
And how [A]e'er they may lecture on [E]Jove and his nectar,
It[A]self is the [A]only true [E]liquid di[A]vine.
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]Lord it's the right thing for [E]courtin' and fightin',
There's [D]nowt so ex[A]citin' as [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
[5]
[A]Come guess me this riddle what [E]beats pipes and fiddle,
What's [D]hotter than [A]mustard and [E]wilder than cream?
What [A]best wets your whistle, what's [E]clearer than crystal,
Smooth[D]er than [A]honey and [E]stronger than [A]steam?
What'll [A]make the dumb talk, what'll [E]make the lame walk,
The [D]elixir of [A]life and phi[E]losopher's stone?
And what [A]helped Mr. Brunell to [E]dig the Thames tunnel —
Wasn’t it [D]Poteen me [A]boys from old [E]Innish[A]owen!
Then [A]stick to the Cratur the [E]best thing in nature
For [D]sinkin' your [A]sorrows and [E]raisin' your joys.
Oh [A]Lord knows I wonder if [E]lightning and thunder
Was [D]made from the [A]plunder of [E]Poteen me [A]boys.
Chords in the key of G
[G]Let your quacks and newspapers be [D]cuttin' their capers
And [C]curing the [G]Vapours, the [D]Scratch and the Gout.
With [G]their medical potions, [D]their pills and their lotions,
Up [C]holdin' their [G]notions, they're [D]mighty put [G]out.
Who [G]can tell the true physic of [D]all things pathetic
And [C]pitch to the [G]Devil Cramp, [D]Colic and Spleen?
Oh [G]you'll find them I think if you [D]take a big drink
With your [C]mouth to the [G]brink of a [D]jug of Po[G]teen.
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]what botherations no [D]bolt to the nation
Can [C]bring consol[G]ation like [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
[2]
[G]No liquid cosmetic to [D]lovers athletic
Or [C]ladies pa[G]thetic can [D]bring such a bloom.
As the [G]sweet, by the powers, to the [D]garden of flowers,
Never [C]brought its own [G]powers such a [D]darlin' per[G]fume.
And this [G]liquid's so rare if you're [D]willing to share
It'll [C]be takin' your [G]hair when it's [D]grizzled and dead.
Oh the [G]Sod has the merit to [D]yield the true spirit
So [C]strong it'll [G]shake all the [D]hairs from your [G]head.
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]since its perfection no [D]doctor's direction
Can [C]cleanse the com[G]plexion like [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
[3]
[G]As a child in my cradle the [D]nurse from her ladle
Was [C]swillin' her [G]mouth with a [D]notion of "Pep".
When a [G]drop from her bottle fell [D]into me throttle,
I [C]capered and [G]scrambled right [D]out of her [G]lap.
On the [G]floor I lay crawlin' and [D]screamin' and bawlin',
Till [C]Father and [G]Mother soon [D]came to the fore.
Con[G]ceived I lay dying, all [D]wailing and crying,
They [C]found I was [G]only a-[D]cryin' for [G]more.
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]Lord how I'd chuckle if [D]babes in their truckle
Could [C]only be [G]suckled on [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
[4]
[G]Through youthful digressions and [D]times of depression,
My [C]childhood im[G]pression still [D]clung to me mind.
In [G]school and in college the [D]basis of knowledge
I [C]never could [G]gulp till with [D]whiskey com[G]bined.
Now as [G]older I'm growin', time's [D]ever bestowin'
On [C]Erin's po[G]tation a [D]flavour so fine.
And how [G]e'er they may lecture on [D]Jove and his nectar,
It[G]self is the [G]only true [D]liquid di[G]vine.
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]Lord it's the right thing for [D]courtin' and fightin',
There's [C]nowt so ex[G]citin' as [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
[5]
[G]Come guess me this riddle what [D]beats pipes and fiddle,
What's [C]hotter than [G]mustard and [D]wilder than cream?
What [G]best wets your whistle, what's [D]clearer than crystal,
Smooth[C]er than [G]honey and [D]stronger than [G]steam?
What'll [G]make the dumb talk, what'll [D]make the lame walk,
The [C]elixir of [G]life and phi[D]losopher's stone?
And what [G]helped Mr. Brunell to [D]dig the Thames tunnel -
Wasn't it [C]Poteen me [G]boys from old [D]Innish[G]owen!
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]Lord knows I wonder if [D]lightning and thunder
Was [C]made from the [G]plunder of [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
[G]Let your quacks and newspapers be [D]cuttin' their capers
And [C]curing the [G]Vapours, the [D]Scratch and the Gout.
With [G]their medical potions, [D]their pills and their lotions,
Up [C]holdin' their [G]notions, they're [D]mighty put [G]out.
Who [G]can tell the true physic of [D]all things pathetic
And [C]pitch to the [G]Devil Cramp, [D]Colic and Spleen?
Oh [G]you'll find them I think if you [D]take a big drink
With your [C]mouth to the [G]brink of a [D]jug of Po[G]teen.
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]what botherations no [D]bolt to the nation
Can [C]bring consol[G]ation like [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
[2]
[G]No liquid cosmetic to [D]lovers athletic
Or [C]ladies pa[G]thetic can [D]bring such a bloom.
As the [G]sweet, by the powers, to the [D]garden of flowers,
Never [C]brought its own [G]powers such a [D]darlin' per[G]fume.
And this [G]liquid's so rare if you're [D]willing to share
It'll [C]be takin' your [G]hair when it's [D]grizzled and dead.
Oh the [G]Sod has the merit to [D]yield the true spirit
So [C]strong it'll [G]shake all the [D]hairs from your [G]head.
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]since its perfection no [D]doctor's direction
Can [C]cleanse the com[G]plexion like [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
[3]
[G]As a child in my cradle the [D]nurse from her ladle
Was [C]swillin' her [G]mouth with a [D]notion of "Pep".
When a [G]drop from her bottle fell [D]into me throttle,
I [C]capered and [G]scrambled right [D]out of her [G]lap.
On the [G]floor I lay crawlin' and [D]screamin' and bawlin',
Till [C]Father and [G]Mother soon [D]came to the fore.
Con[G]ceived I lay dying, all [D]wailing and crying,
They [C]found I was [G]only a-[D]cryin' for [G]more.
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]Lord how I'd chuckle if [D]babes in their truckle
Could [C]only be [G]suckled on [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
[4]
[G]Through youthful digressions and [D]times of depression,
My [C]childhood im[G]pression still [D]clung to me mind.
In [G]school and in college the [D]basis of knowledge
I [C]never could [G]gulp till with [D]whiskey com[G]bined.
Now as [G]older I'm growin', time's [D]ever bestowin'
On [C]Erin's po[G]tation a [D]flavour so fine.
And how [G]e'er they may lecture on [D]Jove and his nectar,
It[G]self is the [G]only true [D]liquid di[G]vine.
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]Lord it's the right thing for [D]courtin' and fightin',
There's [C]nowt so ex[G]citin' as [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
[5]
[G]Come guess me this riddle what [D]beats pipes and fiddle,
What's [C]hotter than [G]mustard and [D]wilder than cream?
What [G]best wets your whistle, what's [D]clearer than crystal,
Smooth[C]er than [G]honey and [D]stronger than [G]steam?
What'll [G]make the dumb talk, what'll [D]make the lame walk,
The [C]elixir of [G]life and phi[D]losopher's stone?
And what [G]helped Mr. Brunell to [D]dig the Thames tunnel -
Wasn't it [C]Poteen me [G]boys from old [D]Innish[G]owen!
Then [G]stick to the Cratur the [D]best thing in nature
For [C]sinkin' your [G]sorrows and [D]raisin' your joys.
Oh [G]Lord knows I wonder if [D]lightning and thunder
Was [C]made from the [G]plunder of [D]Poteen me [G]boys.
About The Song.
Ah now — this glorious song is nothing less than a love ballad to the holy water of Ireland: poteen, the outlawed spirit that could stun a bullock and revive the dead.
It begins by politely insulting every doctor and medical quack in Christendom — all their powders and potions and pills are dismissed as useless cart-dung. The true cure for life’s ailments — the colic, the gout, the melancholy, the existential despair — is discovered in the sacred act of putting your mouth to the brink of a jug.
Not of wine.
Not of beer.
But of poteen, the Cratur itself.
We’re told with absolute authority that this divine liquid can:
Ah, and the childhood memory!
While English babies were weaned on milk and broth, this lad got his first taste of poteen by accident — and responded by launching himself out of the nurse’s arms like a champagne cork.
He cried not from pain…
but for MORE.
Then at school, he could only absorb knowledge when it was drowned in whiskey. Higher learning required higher proof.
Now grown, he scoffs at mythological nectar — the drink of the gods — because sure, Jupiter never tasted innishowen poteen or he’d have abandoned Olympus for Donegal.
And finally — the grand riddle:
What’s hotter than mustard,
stronger than steam,
smoother than honey,
and capable of raising the dead, starting a riot, and making a fiddle sound like heaven?
Why, poteen, of course!
It even gets credit for helping dig the Thames Tunnel — powered not by engineering might, but by illegally-distilled Irish jet fuel.
In short, this song is:
Life is hard, sorrow is heavy…
but a drop of poteen makes both easier to bear.
Ah now — this glorious song is nothing less than a love ballad to the holy water of Ireland: poteen, the outlawed spirit that could stun a bullock and revive the dead.
It begins by politely insulting every doctor and medical quack in Christendom — all their powders and potions and pills are dismissed as useless cart-dung. The true cure for life’s ailments — the colic, the gout, the melancholy, the existential despair — is discovered in the sacred act of putting your mouth to the brink of a jug.
Not of wine.
Not of beer.
But of poteen, the Cratur itself.
We’re told with absolute authority that this divine liquid can:
- cure disease,
- fix the complexion,
- cheer the miserable,
- and turn sadness into singing.
A dermatologist would faint hearing it — but a Dublin man would nod in agreement.
Ah, and the childhood memory!
While English babies were weaned on milk and broth, this lad got his first taste of poteen by accident — and responded by launching himself out of the nurse’s arms like a champagne cork.
He cried not from pain…
but for MORE.
Then at school, he could only absorb knowledge when it was drowned in whiskey. Higher learning required higher proof.
Now grown, he scoffs at mythological nectar — the drink of the gods — because sure, Jupiter never tasted innishowen poteen or he’d have abandoned Olympus for Donegal.
And finally — the grand riddle:
What’s hotter than mustard,
stronger than steam,
smoother than honey,
and capable of raising the dead, starting a riot, and making a fiddle sound like heaven?
Why, poteen, of course!
It even gets credit for helping dig the Thames Tunnel — powered not by engineering might, but by illegally-distilled Irish jet fuel.
In short, this song is:
- half brag
- half blasphemy
- wholly hilarious
Life is hard, sorrow is heavy…
but a drop of poteen makes both easier to bear.
Time: 4/4, Key: G, Style: lively folk drinking song.
🎸 Strumming Pattern (4/4) — lively↓ ↓ ↑ ↑ ↓ ↑
(Accent beat 2 slightly for Irish bounce)
🎸 Fingerpicking Pattern (4/4)T – 3 – 2 – 1 – 2 – 3 – 2 – 1
(T = thumb on bass)
🎵 TABS + LYRICS (4/4 • 3 bars per line)
Let your quacks and newspapers be cuttin' their capers
G.......................D.......................C
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|---2------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
And curing the Vapours, the Scratch and the Gout.
G.......................D.......................G
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|----------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---2------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
With their medical potions, their pills and their lotions,
D.......................C.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|---2------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---3------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
Upholdin' their notions, they're mighty put out.
D.......................G.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---2------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|---3------------------|---3------------------|
markdown
Copy code
Who can tell the true physic of all things pathetic
G.......................D.......................C
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|---2------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
And pitch to the Devil Cramp, Colic and Spleen?
G.......................D.......................G
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|----------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---2------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
Oh you'll find them I think if you take a big drink
D.......................C.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|---2------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---3------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
With your mouth to the brink of a jug of Poteen.
D.......................G.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---2------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|---3------------------|---3------------------|
VERSE 2
markdown
Copy code
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
G.......................D.......................C
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|---2------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
G.......................D.......................G
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|----------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---2------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
Oh what botherations no bolt to the nation
D.......................C.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|---2------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---3------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
Can bring consolation like Poteen me boys.
D.......................G.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---2------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|---3------------------|---3------------------|
🎸 Strumming Pattern (4/4) — lively↓ ↓ ↑ ↑ ↓ ↑
(Accent beat 2 slightly for Irish bounce)
🎸 Fingerpicking Pattern (4/4)T – 3 – 2 – 1 – 2 – 3 – 2 – 1
(T = thumb on bass)
🎵 TABS + LYRICS (4/4 • 3 bars per line)
Let your quacks and newspapers be cuttin' their capers
G.......................D.......................C
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|---2------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
And curing the Vapours, the Scratch and the Gout.
G.......................D.......................G
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|----------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---2------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
With their medical potions, their pills and their lotions,
D.......................C.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|---2------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---3------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
Upholdin' their notions, they're mighty put out.
D.......................G.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---2------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|---3------------------|---3------------------|
markdown
Copy code
Who can tell the true physic of all things pathetic
G.......................D.......................C
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|---2------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
And pitch to the Devil Cramp, Colic and Spleen?
G.......................D.......................G
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|----------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---2------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
Oh you'll find them I think if you take a big drink
D.......................C.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|---2------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---3------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
With your mouth to the brink of a jug of Poteen.
D.......................G.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---2------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|---3------------------|---3------------------|
VERSE 2
markdown
Copy code
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
G.......................D.......................C
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|---2------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
G.......................D.......................G
e|---3-------3-------3-|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---0---0---0---0---0-|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---0-------0-------0-|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|----------------------|---0------------------|----------------------|
A|---2------------------|----------------------|---2------------------|
E|---3------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
Oh what botherations no bolt to the nation
D.......................C.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---1---1---1---1---1-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|---2------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---3------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|----------------------|---3------------------|
Can bring consolation like Poteen me boys.
D.......................G.......................G
e|---2-------2-------2-|---3-------3-------3-|---3-------3-------3-|
B|---3---3---3---3---3-|---0---0---0---0---0-|---0---0---0---0---0-|
G|---2-------2-------2-|---0-------0-------0-|---0-------0-------0-|
D|---0------------------|----------------------|----------------------|
A|----------------------|---2------------------|---2------------------|
E|----------------------|---3------------------|---3------------------|
Below is the list of sheet music and tin whistle songs that are in my ebooks. This is the largest collection of tin whistle songs ever put together.[over 800 songs ] Including folk, pop and trad tunes plus German And French songs along with Christmas Carols.
All of the sheet music tabs have been made as easy to play as was possible.
The price of the ebooks is €7.50 . All the songs have lyrics .
The Humours Of Whiskey Sheet Music / Tin Whistle Notes Are Included.
All of the sheet music tabs have been made as easy to play as was possible.
The price of the ebooks is €7.50 . All the songs have lyrics .
The Humours Of Whiskey Sheet Music / Tin Whistle Notes Are Included.
The humors of whiskey harmonica sheet music tab
