Old Joe Clark's a fine old man tell you the reason why
He keeps good likker 'round his house good old Rock and Rye
Fare ye well, Old Joe Clark fare ye well, I say
Fare ye well, Old Joe Clark I'm a going away
Old Joe Clark, the preacher's son preached all over the pain
The only text he ever knew was High, low, Jack and the game
Old Joe Clark had a mule his name was Morgan Brown
And every tooth in that mule's head was sixteen inches around
Old Joe Clark had a yellow cat she would neither sing or pray
She stuck her head in the buttermilk jar and washed her sins away
Old Joe Clark had a house fifteen stories high
And every story in that house was filled with chicken pie
I went down to Old Joe's house he invited me to supper
I stubbed my toe on the table leg and stuck my nose in the butter
Now I wouldn't marry a widder tell you the reason why
She'd have so many children they'd make those biscuits fly
Sixteen horses in my team the leaders they are blind
And every time the sun goes down there's a pretty girl on my mind
Eighteen miles of mountain road and fifteen miles of sand
If ever travel this road again I'll be a married man
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| 1 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 1 | 5 | 1 | 1 |
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