'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