The Little Brown Jug

Words & Music:

Joseph Eastburn Winner (1869)


   G                C              D7                G

My wife and I lived all alone in a little log hut we called our own;

She loved whiskey, I loved rum, I tell you what, we'd lots of fun.



G           C           D7                  G

Ha, ha, ha, you and me, little brown jug do I love thee;

Ha, ha, ha, you and me, little brown jug do I love thee;


'Tis you who makes my friends my foes, 'tis you who makes me wear old clothes;

Here you are, so near my nose, so tip her up, and down she goes.




When I go toiling to my farm, I take little brown jug under my arm;

I place it under a shady tree, little brown jug 'tis you and me.




I lay in the shade of a tree, little brown jug in the shade of me.

I raised her up and gave apull, little brown jug was about half full.




Crossed the creek on a hollow log, me and the wife and the little brown dog.

The wife and the dog fell into the bog, but I held on to the little brown jug.




If all the folks in Adam's race, were gathered together in one place;

Then I'd prepare to shed a tear, before I'd part from you, my dear.




If I'd a cow that gave such milk, I'd clothe her in the finest silk;

I'd feed her on the choicest hay, and milk her forty times a day.




The rose is red, my nose is, too, the violet's blue, and so are you;

And yet I guess before I stop, we'd better take another drop.




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