We are anchored by the roadside, Jim, as we've ofttimes before When you and I were weary from sacking on the shore The moon shone down in splendor, Jim, it shone on you and I And the little stars were shining when we drank the old jug dry But those was the good old days, those good old days of yore When Murphy ran the tavern and Burnsy kept the store When the whiskey flowed as free, brave boys, as the waters in the brook And the boys all for their stomach's sake their morning bitters took Now the times they have altered, Jim, and men have altered too And some have undertaken for to put rumsellers through They say that whiskey's poison, Jim, and scores of graves has dug And ten thousand snakes and devils can be seen in our old jug But never mind such prattle, Jim, Though some of it be true We'll sleep where we've a mind to, together, me and you For the drink they call cold water, won't do for you nor I So we'll haul the cork at leisure, and we'll drink the old jug dry @drink @temperance Recorded by Joe Hickerson on Dull care II and by Sidney Robertson Cowell on Folkways Printed in 1860 in Beadles Dime Songbook No. 3 Filename[ ROADJIM SF