Little Brown Jug Of Rye (Larry W Jones 10/13/2019) (song #7641)
My dog and I live all alone
I eat raw meat and he eats bone
He catches flies and I like rye
Oh, we’ll be pals until he dies
Oh, ho ho ho, old dog and me
Little brown jug of rye I see
Oh, ho ho ho, old dog and me
Little brown jug don’t have no fleas
Little brown jug ain’t got no goals
Like my old clothes got many holes
I crawl around on all my fours
When it’s tipped up then down it pours
Chorus:
When I toil I roll up my sleeves
Work, my little brown jug relieves
Beneath a tall and shady tree
Little brown jug will comfort me
Chorus:
Oh, I’m kinfolk to Adam’s race
Scattered over every old place
A lot of them have an old dog
And little brown jug that brings fog
Chorus:
If I’d a horse on which to ride
I’d saddle him and spur his side
I’d feed him hay til old and gray
And ride him forty miles a day
Chorus:
Roses are red, violets blue
My nose is red which gives a clue
Little brown jug, start at the top
Then drink it down to the last drop
Oh, ho ho ho, old dog and me
Little brown jug of rye I see
Oh, ho ho ho, old dog and me
Little brown jug don’t have no fleas
Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
