One Sunday morn as I rode out with the road bein' dark and dusty-oh, well a friend and I stepped into an inn for a horn o' Jenny Grey's whiskey-oh.
CHORUS: Of her gin she keeps the royal blue and the best of all Scots whiskey too, No cordial cure is half so pure as a horn o' Jenny Grey's whiskey-oh.
Now there's some that likes tae quarrel and bite whenever they get tipsy-oh, ah but gie me a lass and full flowin' glass filled up with a horn o' whiskey-oh.
So come all ye misers great and small for your gold is gettin' dusty-oh, don't sit and think but come and drink of a horn o' Jenny Grey's whiskey-oh.
One Sunday morn as I rode out with the road bein' dark and dusty-oh, well a friend and I stepped into an inn for a horn o' Jenny Grey's whiskey-oh.