Chords for Kingston Trio-The Jug of Punch
Tempo:
141.2 bpm
Chords used:
D
A
G
E
F#
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[D]
As I was sitting with a jug and spoon, [A] One sunny morning in the month of June,
A birdie sang in [G] an ivy [A] bunch, And the song he sang [E] was the [D] jug of punch.
Too [D]-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
A birdie sang [G] in an ivy bunch, [A] And the song he sang was [D] the jug of punch.
What more diversion can a man [A] desire, Than to court a girl by a cheerful fire?
[D] A carry pippin [G] to crack and crunch, [A] And on the table a [D] jug of punch.
Too -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
A carry pippin [G] to crack and crunch, And [F#] on the table [D] a jug of punch.
Ye mortal lords, drink your nectar wine, And ye [A] quality folk, sip your claret fine.
I'd give them all the [Gm] grapes in the bunch, For [A] a jolly pull at [D] my jug of punch.
Too -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo [D]-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
I'd give them all the [G] grapes in the bunch, For [A] a jolly pull at [G] my jug [D] of punch.
Ye learned doctors, with all your art, [A]
Cannot cure a depression on the [D] heart.
But even a cripple [G] forgets his [E] hunch, When he's [A] snug outside of a jug [D] of punch.
Too -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
But even a cripple [G] forgets his hunch, When he's [A] snug outside [G] of a jug [D] of punch.
And when I'm dead and I'm in my grave, No costly tombstone do I ever crave.
Just lay me down in my native peat, [A] With a jug of punch [G] at my head [D] and feet.
[A] Too -ra [D]-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
Just lay me down in my [G] native peat, [Am] With a jug of punch at [G] my head [D] and feet.
As I was sitting with a jug and spoon, [A] One sunny morning in the month of June,
A birdie sang in [G] an ivy [A] bunch, And the song he sang [E] was the [D] jug of punch.
Too [D]-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
A birdie sang [G] in an ivy bunch, [A] And the song he sang was [D] the jug of punch.
What more diversion can a man [A] desire, Than to court a girl by a cheerful fire?
[D] A carry pippin [G] to crack and crunch, [A] And on the table a [D] jug of punch.
Too -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
A carry pippin [G] to crack and crunch, And [F#] on the table [D] a jug of punch.
Ye mortal lords, drink your nectar wine, And ye [A] quality folk, sip your claret fine.
I'd give them all the [Gm] grapes in the bunch, For [A] a jolly pull at [D] my jug of punch.
Too -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo [D]-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
I'd give them all the [G] grapes in the bunch, For [A] a jolly pull at [G] my jug [D] of punch.
Ye learned doctors, with all your art, [A]
Cannot cure a depression on the [D] heart.
But even a cripple [G] forgets his [E] hunch, When he's [A] snug outside of a jug [D] of punch.
Too -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
But even a cripple [G] forgets his hunch, When he's [A] snug outside [G] of a jug [D] of punch.
And when I'm dead and I'm in my grave, No costly tombstone do I ever crave.
Just lay me down in my native peat, [A] With a jug of punch [G] at my head [D] and feet.
[A] Too -ra [D]-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
Just lay me down in my [G] native peat, [Am] With a jug of punch at [G] my head [D] and feet.
Key:
D
A
G
E
F#
D
A
G
_ _ _ _ _ [D] _ _ _
As I was sitting with a jug and spoon, _ [A] One sunny morning in the month of June, _ _
A birdie sang in [G] an ivy [A] bunch, And the song he sang [E] was the [D] jug of punch.
Too _ [D]-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo. _
A birdie sang [G] in an ivy bunch, [A] And the song he sang was [D] the jug of punch.
What more diversion can a man [A] desire, _ Than to court a girl by a cheerful fire?
_ [D] _ A carry pippin [G] to crack and crunch, _ [A] And on the table a [D] jug of punch.
_ Too _ -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo. _
A carry pippin [G] to crack and crunch, And [F#] on the table [D] a jug of punch.
Ye mortal lords, drink your nectar wine, _ And ye [A] quality folk, sip your claret fine.
_ _ I'd give them all the [Gm] grapes in the bunch, For [A] a jolly pull at [D] my jug of punch.
Too _ -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo [D]-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
_ I'd give them all the [G] grapes in the bunch, For [A] a jolly pull at [G] my jug [D] of punch.
_ Ye _ learned doctors, with all your art, _ [A]
Cannot cure a depression on the [D] heart.
_ But even a cripple [G] forgets his [E] hunch, _ When he's [A] snug outside of a jug [D] of punch.
Too _ -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
_ But even a cripple _ [G] forgets his hunch, When he's [A] snug outside _ [G] of a jug [D] of punch.
And when I'm dead and I'm in my grave, No costly _ tombstone do I ever crave. _ _
Just lay me down in my native peat, [A] With a jug of punch [G] at my head [D] and feet.
[A] Too _ _ -ra [D]-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
_ Just lay me down in my [G] native peat, [Am] With a jug of punch at [G] my head [D] and feet. _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
As I was sitting with a jug and spoon, _ [A] One sunny morning in the month of June, _ _
A birdie sang in [G] an ivy [A] bunch, And the song he sang [E] was the [D] jug of punch.
Too _ [D]-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo. _
A birdie sang [G] in an ivy bunch, [A] And the song he sang was [D] the jug of punch.
What more diversion can a man [A] desire, _ Than to court a girl by a cheerful fire?
_ [D] _ A carry pippin [G] to crack and crunch, _ [A] And on the table a [D] jug of punch.
_ Too _ -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo. _
A carry pippin [G] to crack and crunch, And [F#] on the table [D] a jug of punch.
Ye mortal lords, drink your nectar wine, _ And ye [A] quality folk, sip your claret fine.
_ _ I'd give them all the [Gm] grapes in the bunch, For [A] a jolly pull at [D] my jug of punch.
Too _ -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo [D]-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
_ I'd give them all the [G] grapes in the bunch, For [A] a jolly pull at [G] my jug [D] of punch.
_ Ye _ learned doctors, with all your art, _ [A]
Cannot cure a depression on the [D] heart.
_ But even a cripple [G] forgets his [E] hunch, _ When he's [A] snug outside of a jug [D] of punch.
Too _ -ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
_ But even a cripple _ [G] forgets his hunch, When he's [A] snug outside _ [G] of a jug [D] of punch.
And when I'm dead and I'm in my grave, No costly _ tombstone do I ever crave. _ _
Just lay me down in my native peat, [A] With a jug of punch [G] at my head [D] and feet.
[A] Too _ _ -ra [D]-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo, Too-ra-loo-ra-loo.
_ Just lay me down in my [G] native peat, [Am] With a jug of punch at [G] my head [D] and feet. _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _