Whiskey by the gallon, sugar by the pound A great big bowl to put it in and a spoon to stir it around 
Chorus Who’s going down to town, Who’s going down to town Who’s going down to Welmingtown, to carry my tobacco ’round 
Once I had an old fool dog, and I wish I had him back He’d chase the big hogs o’er the fence and the little ones through the crack 
Once I had a little girl, I brought her from the south She’d braid her hair so doggone tight, she couldn’t shut her mouth 
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