There's. An. Inn, there's an innThere's a merry old inn. Beneath an old gray hill. And...

There's. An. Inn, there's an innThere's a merry old inn. Beneath an old gray hill. And there they brew a beer so brownThe Man in the Moon. Himself came downOne night. To drink his fill. Oh. The ostler has a tipsy cat. That played a five-stringed fiddle. And up and down he saws his bow. Now squeaking high. Now purring low Now sawing in the middle. So. The cat on the fiddle. Played hey-diddle-diddleA drink that'll wake the dead. He squeaked and he sawedAnd he quickened. The tuneAnd the landlord. Shook the Man. In the Moon"it's after. Three!" he said