Sheet Music Lyrics
The Little Brown Jug
Words and Music by Eastburn (Joseph Eastburn Winner)
Philadelphia: J.E. Winner, c1869
My wife and I lived all alone
In a little log hut we called our own;
She loved gin, and I loved rum,
I tell you what, we'd lots of fun.
'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.
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.
Ha, ha, ha, you and me,
"Little brown jug" don't I love thee;
Ha, ha ha, you and me,
"Little brown jug" don't I love thee.