##title:Old Dun Cow 
##_version:(k2)
##author:traditional irish
===========  
Some f[Am]riends and I in a public house  
Were playing domi[G]noes one[Am] night  
(When) into the [G]room the [F]barman [E]came, 
his face all [F]chalky [E]white.  
"What[Am]’s up,” says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost,  
have you seen your [G]Aunt Ma[E]riah?"  
"Oh my [Am]Aunt Mar[G]iah be [Am]buggered!" said [F]he,  
"The [E]bloody [F]pub’s on [E]fire!"  
  
"Fire," says Brown, "What a bit of luck
Everybody follow me!  
Down to the cellar if the fire’s not there
We’ll have a rare old spree."  
So we all went down after good old Brown.  
Booze we could not miss.
And we weren’t there five minutes or more till,
we were all half pissed.  
  
R: And there was Brown, upside down  
Lickin’ up the whiskey from the floor  
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried  
As they came knockin’ at the door (clap clap)  
Oh don’t let ‘em in till it’s all mopped up  
Somebody shouted Maclntyre! (MACINTYRE!)
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk  
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.  
  
Then, Smith went over to the port wine tub  
(And) gave it a few hard knocks (clap clap)  
(He) started takin’ off his pantaloons  
Likewise his shoes and socks  
"Hold on," says Brown, "We can't have that
Ye canna do that in here.  
Don’t go washin’ trotters in the port wine tub  
When we got all this lite beer."
  
And then there came to the old back door  
The Vicar of our local church  
And when he had seen our drunken ways  
He began to scream and curse  
"You drunken sods, you heathen clods  
You’ve taken to a drunken spree!  
And you drank up all that Benedictine Brandy  
And you didn’t save a drop for me!"  

R:
  
Just then there came an awful crash  
Half the bloody roof gave way   
We were almost drowned in the firemen’s hose  
Still we were goin' stay  
So we got some tacks and our old wet slacks  
And nailed ourselves inside  
And we sat there swallyin’ pints of stout
‘Till we was bleary-eyed  
  
Later that night when the fire was out  
We came up from the cellar below  
Our pub was burned, our booze was drunk  
And our heads were a-hangin’ low  
"Oh look,” says Brown, with a look quite queer  
It seemed something caught his ire  
"We’ve gotta get down to Murphy’s pub  
It closes on the hour!"