By Harry Wincott, 1893, with inevitable variations due to the folk process.
Some friends and I in a public house
Were playing dominoes one night
When all of a sudden, in the pot man rushed.
His face all chalky white
“What’s up?” says Brown, “Have you seen a ghost?”
“Have you seen your Aunt Moriah?”
“Oh my Aunt Moriah be buggered,” cries he!
“The bleeding pubs on fire!”
“On fire,” says Brown, “What a bit of luck!”
“What a bit of luck!” cries he.
It’s down to the cellar if the fire’s not there
Then we’ll have a grand old spree”
So we all went down with good old Brown
And the booze we could not miss
And we hadn’t been there ten minutes or more
‘Till we were all quite pissed.
“Where’s Brown?!?”
Chorus:
Oh, there was Brown, up side down
Mopping up the whiskey on the floor
“Booze, booze” the firemen cried
As they come a-knockin’ at the door
“Well don’t let em in till it’s all mopped up
Somebody shouted, “MacIntyre”
“MacIntyre!”
And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire
Then Johnson went to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks
He started taking off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks
“Hold on,” says Brown. “If you want to wash your feet,
we’ve got some poor ale here.
Don’t wash yer trotters in the port-wine tub
When we’ve got some old stale beer.”
Oh! Just about then with a hell of a crash.
Half the bloody roof gave way.
We were drowned by the firemen’s hose
But we were still OK
We got some sacks and some old tin tacks
And bunged ourselves inside,
And we were drinking good old Scotch
‘Till we were bleary eyed.
“Where’s Brown?!?”
Chorus:
Oh, there was Brown, up side down
Mopping up the whiskey on the floor
“Booze, booze” the firemen cried
As they come a-knockin’ at the door
“Well don’t let em in till it’s all mopped up
Somebody shouted, “MacIntyre”
“MacIntyre!”
And we all got blue blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire!