I'll eat when I'm hungry,
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I'll drink when l'm dry,
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If the hard times don't kill me,
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I'll lay down and die.
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|
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Rye whisky, rye whisky,
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Rye whisky, I cry,
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If you don't give me rye whisky,
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I surely will die.
|
|
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I'll tune up my fiddle,
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And I'll rosin my bow,
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I'll make myself welcome,
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Wherever I go.
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|
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Beefsteak when I'm hungry,
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Red liquor when I'm dry,
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Greenbacks when I'm hard up,
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And religion when I die.
|
|
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They say I drink whisky,
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My money's my own;
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All them that don't like me,
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Can leave me alone.
|
|
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Sometimes I drink whisky,
|
Sometimes I drink rum,
|
Sometimes I drink brandy,
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At other times none.
|
|
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But if I get boozy,
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My whisky's my own,
|
And them that don't like me,
|
Can leave me alone.
|
|
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Jack o' diamonds, jack o' diamonds,
|
I know you of old,
|
You've robbed my poor pockets
|
Of silver and gold.
|
|
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Oh, whisky, you villain,
|
You've been my downfall,
|
You've kicked me, you've cuffed me,
|
But I love you for all.
|
|
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If the ocean was whisky,
|
And I was a duck,
|
I'd dive to the bottom
|
To get one sweet suck.
|
|
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But the ocean ain't whisky
|
And I ain't a duck,
|
So we'll round up the cattle
|
And then we'll get drunk.
|
|
|
My foot's in my stirrup,
|
My bridle's in my hand,
|
l'm leaving sweet Lillie,
|
The fairest in the land.
|
Her parents don't like me,
|
They say l'm too poor;
|
They say I'm unworthy
|
To enter her door.
|
|
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Sweet milk when l'm hungry,
|
Rye whisky when l'm dry,
|
If a tree don't fall on me,
|
I'll live till I die.
|
|
|
I'll buy my own whisky,
|
I'll make my own stew,
|
If I get drunk, madam,
|
It's nothing to you.
|
|
|
I'll drink my own whisky,
|
I'll drink my own wine,
|
Some ten thousand bottles
|
I've killed in my time.
|
|
|
I've no wife to quarrel
|
No babies to bawl;
|
The best way of living
|
Is no wife at all.
|
|
|
Way up on Clinch Mountain
|
I wander alone,
|
l'm as drunk as the devil,
|
Oh, let me alone.
|
|
|
You may boast of your knowledge
|
An' brag of your sense,
|
'Twill all be forgotten
|
A hundred years hence.
|
|
|
(Negro Variant)
|
In my little log cabin,
|
Ever since I been born,
|
Dere ain't been no nothin'
|
'Cept dat hard salt, parched corn.
|
|
|
But I know whar's a henhouse,
|
De turkey he charve;
|
An, if ol' Massa don' kill me
|
I cain't never starve.
|
|
|
(Variant chorus)
|
Rye whisky, rye whisky,
|
You're no friend to me;
|
You killed my poor daddy,
|
Goddamn you, try me.
|
|
|
From American Ballads and Folk Songs, Lomax
|
Note: One of the more exhaustive texts
|
|
-----------------
|
Rye Whiskey (tranditonal version)
|
| Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds |
