Traditional
I'm a weaver, a Calton weaver;
I'm a rash and a roving blade.
I've got silver in my pockets,
And I follow the roving trade.
Chorus
O Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey,
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy-O.
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey,
Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy-O.
The more I kissed her, the more I loved her;
The more I kissed her, the more she smiled.
Soon I forgot my mother's teaching;
Nancy soon had me beguiled.
Now, I rose early in the morning
To slake my thirst, it was my need.
I tried to rise but I was not able;
Nancy had me by the knees.
So I'm going back to the Calton weaving;
I'll surely make them shuttles fly.
For I'll make more at Calton weaving
Than ever I did in a roving way.
So come, all you weavers, you Calton weavers;
Come, all you weavers, where e'er you be.
Beware of Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey;
She'll ruin you like she ruined me.