Come day, go day
wish in me heart it was Sunday
drinkin' buttermilk through the week (and) whiskey on a Sunday
He sat on the corner of ould Beggar's Bush
on top o' the ould packing crate
He has three wooden dolls that can dance and can sing
and he croons and smile on his face
Come day, go day
wish in me heart it was Sunday
drinkin' buttermilk through the week (and) whiskey on a Sunday
His tired ould hands tug away up the strings
and the puppets they dance up and down
(It's) a far better show than you ever will see
in the fanciest theatre in town
Come day, go day
wish in me heart it was Sunday
drinkin' buttermilk through the week (and) whiskey on a Sunday
I'm sad to relate that ould Seth Davy died in 1904
the three wooden dolls in the dustbin were laid
his songs will be heard never more
Come day, go day
wish in me heart it was Sunday
drinkin' buttermilk through the week (and) whiskey on a Sunday
Some stormy night when you're passin' that way
and the winds blowin' up from the sea
you can still hear the song of ould Seth Davy
as he croons to dancin' dolls three
Come day, go day
wish in me heart it was Sunday
drinkin' buttermilk through the week (and) whiskey on a Sunday
Come day, go day
wish in me heart it was Sunday
drinkin' buttermilk through the week (and) whiskey on a Sunday