'Twas in the month of April the birds were all atune
The ice was off the lake and the meadows all in bloom
To see the cats and dogs out sleeping in the sun
Put me in mind a car to find to make our whiskey run
Old Harold and his motorcar soon did find employ
For me and Pat and Mack and Jack and fifteen other boys
To cross the floating bridge now that was our intent
To make it back with a jug intact before the day was spent
There's a blessing on the bridge
But the taverns have been cursed
For bringing home the whiskey the time could not be worse
Waves are running high and the wind is bloomin' cold
To bring the whiskey over the blessing may not hold
To cross the bridge from Ennismore now 'twas a foolish feat
The ice had torn the railings down, the lake was cold and deep
Crossing in the morning that sunny springtime day
All full of pluck we trusted luck to guide us on our way
Dear old Father Kylety, God rest his priestly soul
Had put a curse on every place where liquor's bought and sold
Though the priest had blessed
The bridge on which we must return
We feared the drink our car would sink
And leave our souls to burn
The whiskey jug was safely stowed down behind the seat
Betwixt a jar of grease and fifteen pairs of feet
No sooner had we climbed aboard and fired her up to go
The sky turned black, the thunder cracked
And the wind began to blow
The floating bridge was dancing wild upon the waves
Sunk up to the axle we could not see our way
I took that cursed whiskey and flung it o'er the side
The wind died down, the lake was calm, the sun began to shine
Old Harold he was crying now, let's go back for more
Says I, You fool we'll make for home and never drink no more