Luyện nghe bài hát The Jug Of Punch

Francis McPeake/Ewan

As I was sitting a jug and spoon, one Sunday morning in the month of June.
A birdie sang in an ivy bunch and the he sang was the jug of punch.

Tura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu, tura lura lu.

A birdie sang in an ivy and the song he sang was the jug of punch.

What more diversion can a man desire than to court a girl by a cheerful
A pippin to crack and crunch and on the table a jug of punch.

(Chorus)

A carey pippin to and crunch and on the table a jug of punch.

Ye mortal lords, drink your nectar wine and ye quality folk, sip claret fine.
I'd give them all the grapes in the for a jolly pull at my jug of punch.

(Chorus)

I'd give all the grapes in the bunch for a jolly pull at my jug of punch.

Ye learned doctors, all your art, cannot cure a depression on the heart.
But even a cripple his hunch when he's snug outside of a jug of punch.

(Chorus)

But even a cripple forgets his when he's snug outside of a jug of punch.

And when I'm and I'm in my grave, no costly tombstone do I ever crave.
Just lay me down in my native with a jug of punch at my head and feet.

(Chorus)

lay me down in my native peat with a jug of punch at my head and feet. (Ooo, Ooo)