Lyrics:

Intro:
Picture this...
Its fifty years ago on a small country farm
Johnny McMasters Place
And its Friday Night
You've just finished ten hot days of back breakin' labor
And the hay... the hay is finally in
You're sitting around the kitchen table
Under the dim light of the kerosene lantern
Everyone is laughing and joking and telling stories...
About their neighbours
You're half way through a bottle of... moonshine
And you're gettin' alll fired up... for the dance
Ladies and Gentlemen... I give you the Mull River Shuffle
Here comes Mister MacNeil
The fine shape that he is in
There is no telling which way he'll feel
After his twister around the bend
Chorus:
Raisin' the jar an raisin' hell
There's plenty of stories that they will tell
Some are born of true detail
Some are purely fiction

Look up yonder it's old MacPhee
He's having a few he can hardly see
Wrapped his buggy around a tree
Someone call the Mounties
Up spoke fine young Cameron
At the dance got a fearful hammerin'
Today I'll stutter and stammerin'
There'll be hell to pay come Saturday
Danny Wright had a light
Burning bright every night
Waiting for the fish to bite
Along the shores of 'Cocomagh
There they stand by the door
Selling bush by the score
Asking you to buy some more
Along the shores of 'Cocomagh
I'll go home, I'll go home
Full of the devil and full of the rum
I'll go home, I'll go home
We'll all go home in the morning
(repeat x5)