Letras
There were three drunken maidens
Came from the Isle of Wight
They drunk the Monday morning
Nor stopped till Saturday night
When Saturday night did come, my boys
They wouldn't then go out
These three drunken maidens
They pushed the jug about
Then up comes bouncing Sally
Her cheeks as red as a bloom
"Move up, my jolly sisters
And give young Sally some room
For I'll be your equal
Before the two we go out"
These four drunken maidens
They pushed the jug about
There's woodcock and pheasant
There's partridge and hare
There's all sorts of dainties
No scarcity was there
This forty quarts appeared, my boys
They fairly drunk them out
These four drunken maidens
They pushed the jug about
But up comes the landlord
He's asking for his pay
It's a forty pound bill, my boys
These girls was forced to pay
That's ten pounds apiece, my boys
But still they wouldn't go out
These four drunken maidens
They pushed the jug about
Oh, where are your feathered hats
Your mantles rich and fine?
They've all been swallowed up
In tankards of good wine
And where are your maidenheads
You maidens brisk and gay?
We left them in the alehouse
We drank them clean away