Lyrics

Here comes Mister MacNeil
The fine shape that he is in
There is no telling which way he'll feel
After his twister around the bend

Raisin' the jar hey raisin' hell
There's plenty of stories that they will tell
Some are born of true detail
Some are purely fiction

Well, look up yonder it's old MacPhee
He's having a few he can hardly see
Wrapped his buggy around a tree
Someone call the Mounties

Raisin' the jar and raisin' hell
There's plenty of stories that they will tell
Some are born of true detail
Some are purely fiction

Well ups spoke fine young Cameron
Of that does get a fearful hammerin'
Today he'll stutter and stammer and
There'll be hell to pay come Saturday

Raisin' the jar and raisin' hell
There's plenty of stories that they will tell
Some are born of true detail
Some are purely fiction

Well I'll go home, I'll go home
Full of the devil and full of the rum
I'll go home, I'll go home
We'll all go home in the morning
I'll go, I'll go

Danny Wright had a light
Burning bright, every night
Now waiting for the fish to bite
Along the shores of 'Cocomagh

Raisin the jar hey raisin hell
There's plenty of stories that they will tell
Some are born of true detail
Some are purely fiction

There they stand by the door
Selling bush by the score
Asking you to buy some more
Along the shores of 'Cocomagh

Raisin' the jar and raisin' hell
There's plenty of stories that they will tell
Some are born of true detail
Some are purely fiction

I'll go home, I'll go home
Full of the devil and full of the rum
I'll go home, I'll go home
We'll all go home in the morning