Mrs. Murphy
TUNE - Cassons Go Rolling Along

Give a cheer, give a cheer,
For the men who drink the beer,
In the cellar of Murphy's Saloon.
They are brave, they are bold,
And the sotries that are told,
In the cellar of Murphy's Saloon,
For it's guzzle, guzzle, guzzle,
As they pour it down their muzzle
And they shout out their orders, loud and clear:
"More beer!"
For its more, more, more
As the cops break down the door
In the cellar of Murphy's saloon

Won't you put it in your mouth Mrs. Murphy,
For it only weighs a quarter of pound,
It's got hair on its neck like a turkey,
And it spits when you rub it up and down.

If I had the wings of an eagle,
And the balls of a hairy baboon.
I'd fly up to the top of the mountain,
And jack off on the man on the moon.

Now you say you're still a virgin,
But you're cherry is not there anymore,
So why don't you quit trying to be so perfect
And do the thing that you're best know for.

For now you've got a throat like Linda Lovelace,
And a cunt like a great cathouse whore,
So why don't you please do my peder a favor,
And deep throat me on the barroom floor.

Now we've got a team called Pendleton,
And peckers as long as a boom,
So would you please do your pussy a favor
And keep us mother fuckers out of your room.

We'll eat you and beat you and mistreat you,
While we're singing our dirtiest verse,
Then we'll stick it in your ear and dick you from the rear,
For that's how we build up our thrist.

Sung by the whore house quartet,
Did you go and get it? Not yet.
Are you gonna get it? You bet!
Who you gonn get it from? Ginnette!