Irish Song Lyrics 
from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
THE HUMORS OF WHISKEY 
Let your quacks and newspapers be cuttin' their capers And curing the Vapours, the Scratch and the Gout. With their medical potions, their pills and their lotions, Upholdin' their notions, they're mighty put out. Who can tell the true physic of all things pathetic And pitch to the Devil Cramp, Colic and Spleen? Oh you'll find them I think if you take a big drink With your mouth to the brink of a jug of Poteen. 
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys. Oh what botherations no bolt to the nation Can bring consolation like Poteen me boys. No liquid cosmetic to lovers athletic Or ladies pathetic can bring such a bloom As the sweet, by the powers to the garden of flowers Never brought it own powers such a darlin' perfume. 
And this liquid's so rare if you're willin' to share To be takin' your hair when its grizzled and dead. Oh the Sod has the merit to yield the true spirit So strong it'll shake all the hairs from your head. Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys. Oh since its perfection no doctor's direction Can cleanse the complexion like Poteen me boys. 
As a child in my cradle the nurse from her ladle Was swillin' her mouth with a notion of ``Pep'' When a drop from her bottle fell into me throttle. I capered and scrambled right out of her lap. On the floor I lay crawlin' and screamin' and bawlin' Till Father and Mother soon came to the fore. Conceived I lay dying, all wailing and crying They found I was only a-cryin' for more. 
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys. Oh Lord how I'd chuckle if babes in their truckle Could only be suckled on Poteen me boys. Through youthful digressions and times of depression My childhood impression still clung to me mind. In school and in college the basis of knowledge I never could gulp 'till with whiskey combined. 
Now as older I'm growin', time's ever bestowin' On Erin's potation a flavour so fine And how e're they may lecture on Jove and his nectar Itself is the only true liquid divine. Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys. Oh Lord it's the right thing for courtin' and fightin' There's nowt so exciting as Poteen me boys. 
Come guess me this riddle what beats pipes and fiddle What's hotter than mustard and wilder than cream? What best wets your whistle, what's clearer than crystal 
Smoother than honey and stronger than steam? What'll make the dumb talk, what'll make the lame walk --The elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Mr. Brunell to dig the Thames tunnel Wasn't it Poteen me boys from old Innishowen. 
Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys. Oh Lord knows I wonder if lightning and thunder Was made from the plunder of Poteen me boys!