I've Got Rings On My Fingers (hi-lo)

I’VE GOT RINGS ON MY FINGERS hi-lo
W: Weston & Barnes
M: Maurice Scott
Irish dance hall song
Key: G
Time: 2/4


 6  6  6   -5   5   5  5
 9  9  9   -9   8   8  8
Jim O'Shea was cast a-way

3  5  -5 5   -4   4
6  8  -9 8   -8   7
Up-on an In-dian Isle

 4  -4   5    -4    -3    3    3   3
 7  -8   8    -8    -7    6    6   6
The na-tives there they lik’d his hair

 3    -4    5 -5  5    -4
 6    -8    8 -9  8    -8
They lik’d his I-rish smile

3   6    6    6   -5   5   5
6   9    9    9   -9   8   8  
So made him chief Pan-jan-drum

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 6  8  -9  8   -8   7
The Na-bob of them all

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 7    -7    -8  -8 7  -7   -8
They call’d him Ji-ji-boo Jhai

 3    -3   -4   4 -3  -4
 7    -7   -8   7 -7  -8
And rigg’d him out so gay

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7  7   -7   -8  7  -7  -8
So he wrote to Dub-lin Bay

-3  4   -4     4     -3  -3” 3
-7  7   -8     7     -7  -6  6
To his sweet-heart, just to say 


 3     4    5    6   6  -5  5    5
 6     7    8    9   9  -9  8    8
Sure, I've got rings on my fin-gers, 

  5    5 -4  4
  8    8 -8  7 
bells on my toes

-4 5   -4   -3  3   -3”3
-8 8   -8   -7  6   -6 6
El-e-phants to ride up-on, 

3  -4   5 -5  5    -4
6  -8   8 -9  8    -8
my lit-tle I-rish Rose

6   6   6   -5  5   5
9   9   9   -9  8   8
So come to your Na-bob, 

 6   5    5   -4     4
 9   8    8   -8     7
and next Pat-rick's Day

-6  6   -4    6  5   6  5
-10 9   -8    9  8   9  8
Be Mis-tress Mum-bo Jum-bo 

-5  5  -4  4  -4  4
-9  8  -8  7  -8  7
Jij-ji-boo J. O-‘Shea 

Across the sea went Rose Magee
To see her Nabob grand
He sat within his palanquin
And when she kissed his hand
He led her to his harem
Where he had wives galore
She started shedding a tear
Said he, "Now have no fear
I'm keeping these wives here
Just for ornament, my dear" 

Sure, I've got rings on my fingers,
 bells on my toes
Elephants to ride upon, 
my little Irish Rose
So come to your Nabob, 
and next Patrick's Day
Be Mistress Mumbo Jumbo 
Jij-ji-boo J. O'Shea 

In emerald green he robed his queen
To share with him his throne
'Mid eastern charms and waving palms
They'd shamrocks, Irish grown
Sent all the way from Dublin
To Nabob J. O'Shea
But in his palace so fine
Should Rose for Ireland pine
With smiles her face will shine
When he murmurs, "Sweetheart mine" 

Sure, I've got rings on my fingers, 
bells on my toes
Elephants to ride upon, 
my little Irish Rose
So come to your Nabob, 
and next Patrick's Day
Be Mistress Mumbo Jumbo 
Jij-ji-boo J. O'Shea