There's Whisky In The Jar

As I was a-crossin' the Abercrombie Mountains, I met Sir Frederick Pottinger, and his money he was countin'. I first drew me blunderbuss and then I drew me sabre Sayin', "Stand and deliver-oh! for I'm your bold decayver." chorus: With my mush-a-ring-a-dah, Ri-tooral-addy-ah, There's whisky in the jar! I robbed him of his money; it was a pretty penny, I robbed him of it all and took it home to Molly; I took it home to Molly and I thought she'd ne'er deceive me, Oh! the divil's in the wimmin for they never can be aisy . . . . . . . . . all but the last two lines lost to time. . . . . . . She fired off my pistols and damaged them with water - Oh! the divil's in the wimmin for rearin' such a daughter."