1. |
Irish Washerwoman
02:24
|
|||
|
instrumental
|
||||
2. |
Molly Malone
02:47
|
|||
|
In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty,
'Twas there that I met my sweet Molly Malone.
She drove her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and Mussels; alive, all alive!"
chorus
"Alive, alive-o; alive, alive-o,
Cockles and Mussels; alive, all alive!"
She was a fishmonger, and that was no wonder;
Her father and mother were fishmongers, too.
They drove their wheelbarrows through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and Mussels; alive, all alive!" chorus
She died of the fever; nothing could save her,
'Twas then that I lost my dear Molly Malone.
But her ghost drives a 'barrow through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and Mussels; alive, all alive!" chorus
|
||||
3. |
Farewell Tae Tarwathie
03:25
|
|||
|
Farewell tae Tarwathie, adieu Mormond Hill,
And the dear land of Crimond, I bid ye farewell,
I am bound out for Greenland and ready to sail,
In hopes to find riches in hunting the whale.
Adieu to my comrades, for awhile we must part,
And likewise the dear lass what fair won my heart,
The cold ice of Greenland, my love will not chill,
The longer my absence, more loving she feels.
The cold coast of Greenland is barren and bare,
No seed-time nor harvest is ever known there,
The birds here sing sweetly o'er mountain and dale,
But there is nae a birdie who'll sing to the whale.
There is no habitation for a man to live there,
And the king of that country is the fierce Greenland bear,
There'll be no temptation to tarry long there,
With our ship bumper full, we'll homeward repair.
|
||||
4. |
The Maid Behind The Bar
02:36
|
|||
|
instrumental
|
||||
5. |
The Maid Of Amsterdam
02:12
|
|||
|
In Amsterdam there lived a maid,
Mark you well what I say
In Amsterdam there lived a maid
And she was mistress of her trade.
chorus
I'll go no more a rovin' with you, fair maid.
A rovin', a rovin', since rovin's been my ru-i-in,
I'll go no more a rovin' with you fair maid.
Her eyes were blue, her cheeks were brown,
Mark you well what I say,
Here eyes were blue, her cheeks were brown,
Her hair in ringlets hanging down. chorus
I took this maid out for a walk,
Mark you well what I say,
I took this maid out for a walk,
And we had such a lovely talk. chorus
I took her out and spent my pay,
Mark you well what I say,
I took her out and spent my pay,
And then this maiden just faded away. chorus
|
||||
6. |
Wild Rover
03:38
|
|||
|
I've been a wild rover for many a year,
And I spent all me money on whiskey and beer,
But now I'm returning with gold in great store,
And I never will play the wild rover no more,
chorus
And it's no, nay, never; no nay never no more,
Will I play the wild rover? No, never, no more.
I went back to an alehouse I used to frequent,
And I told the landlady my money was spent,
I asked her for credit, she answered me 'Nay,
Such a custom as yours I could have any day.' chorus
Well, out of me pockets I pulled sovereigns bright,
And the landlady's eyes opened wide with delight
She said, 'I have whiskey and beer of the best,
And I'll take you upstairs and I'll show you the rest.' chorus
I'll go back to me parents, confess what I've done,
And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son,
And if they've embrace me as oft times before,
Then I never will play the wild rover no more. chorus
|
||||
7. |
||||
|
instrumental
|
||||
8. |
Rothsay-O
01:50
|
|||
|
Last Hogmanay in Glesca' Fair,
Me and meself and several mair,
Al gaed off tae hae a wee tear,
And spend the night in Rothsay-o,
We started off frae Broomie-law,
Both hail and sleet and rain and snaw,
Forty minutes after twa,
We got the length of Rothsay-o.
chorus
A-durum a do a do a day, a durum a do a daddy-o,
Durum a do a do a day, the night we went to Rothsay-o.
In search of lodgings we did slide,
To get a place where we could hide,
There were just eighty-twa of us inside,
In a single room in Rothsay-o,
We all lay doon to get our ease,
When someone happened for to sneeze,
Which wakened half a million fleas,
In a single room in Rothsay-o. chorus
There were several different types of bugs,
Some had feet like dyer's clugs,
They stood on the bed and cocked their lungs,
And cried, "Hurrah for Rothsay-o!"
"Oh, no!" says I, "We'll have to 'lope,"
So we went and joined the Band of Hope,
But the sheriff would not let us stop,
Another night in Rothsay-o. chorus
|
||||
9. |
||||
|
I am a little beggarman and beggin' I have been,
Threescore or more in the little Isle O'Green,
And I'm known from the Liffee on down to Segu,
And I'm known by the name of old Jonny-dhu.
Of all the trades a-goin', sure a-beggin' is the best;
For when a man is tired, he can sit him down and rest,
Beg for his supper when there's nothing more to do,
Or sit around the fire in his old rig-a-do.
I slept one night in a barn in Clarabon;
Went naked, man, and I slept until the dawn,
Holes in the roof and the rain a-peekin' thru,
And the cats and the rats all a-playin' peek-a-boo.
Who should awaken, but the woman of the house,
In a whit spotted apron and a calico blouse,
She began to frighten, so I said, "Boo!
Don't be afraid, ma'am, it's only Jonny-dhu."
I met a little flaxy-haired girl one day,
"Good morning, little flaxy-haired girl." I did say,
"Good morning, little beggarman, and how do you do,
With your rags and your tags and your old rig-a-do?
"I'll buy a pair of stockings and a collar and a tie,
And a right fine lady I'll fetch by and by,
I'll buy ye a pair of goggles and we'll color them blue,
And an old-fashioned lady I'll make of you!"
Well, it's over the fields with me pack on me back,
Over the hills with me great heavy sack,
Holes in me shoes, me toes a-peekin' through;
Skin-a-wrinkle-do, it's old Jonny-dhu,
I must be goin' to bed, for it's getting late at night;
The fire's all rigged, out goes the light,
Now you know the story of the old rig-a-do;
"Good night, and God be with you," says old Jonny-dhu.
|
||||
10. |
Good Companions
05:14
|
|||
|
I'll drink one, if you'll drink two,
And here's a lad that'll drink with you,
And if you do as I have done,
You'll be a good companion.
chorus
Companion, companion, you'll be a good companion,
Companion, companion, you'll be a good companion.
I'll drink two, if you'll drink three,
And here's a lad that'll drink for free, And if you do . . . . chorus
I'll drink three, if you'll drink four,
and here's a lad that'll drink for an hour, And if you do . . . . chorus
I'll drink four, if you'll drink five,
And we're the lads that'll drink 'til we die, And if you do . . . . chorus
I'll drink five, if you'll drink six,
And we're the lads that'll drink like bricks, And if you do . . . . chorus
I'll drink six, if you'll drink seven,
And we're the lads that'll drink in heaven, And if you do . . . . chorus
I'll drink seven, if you'll drink eight,
And we're the lads that'll drink 'til it's late, And if you do . . . . chorus
I'll drink eight, if you'll drink nine,
And we're the lads that'll drink anytime, And if you do . . . . chorus
I'll drink nine, if you'll drink ten,
And we're the lads that'll drink again, And if you do . . . . chorus
Bile 'em cabbage down, boys,
Turn them hoecakes 'round,
The only song I ever learned,
Was Bile 'Em Cabbage Down"!
|
||||
11. |
Wearin' O' The Green
02:42
|
|||
|
Oh paddy dear, and did you hear the news that's runnin' 'round?
The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground.
St. Patrick's Day no more we'll keep; his color can't be seen,
For there's a cruel law agin' the wearin' o' the green.
I met with Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand,
And he says, "How's poor auld Ireland, and how does she stand."
She's the most distressful country, that ever you have seen,
They're hangin' men and women there for wearin' o' the green.
Then if the color we must wear is England's cruel red,
Sure Ireland's sons shall ne'er forget the blood that they have shed.
You can take the shamrock from me hat, and cast it in the sod,
But 'twill take root and flourish there, though underfoot 'tis trod.
When the law can stop the blades of grass from growin' as they grow,
And when the leaves, in summertime, their verdure dare not show,
Then I will change the color I wear in my cabin,
But 'til that day, plaise God, I'll stick to wearin' o' the green.
|
||||
12. |
||||
|
chorus
Well, it's all for me grog, me jolly, jolly grog,
It's all for me beer and tobacco,
For I spent all me tin on the lassies drinkin' gin,
Far across the western ocean I must wander.
Where are me boots? Me noggin', noggin' boots!
They're all gone for beer and tobacco,
For the heels are all worn out, and the toes are kicked about,
And the soles are looking out for better weather. chorus
Where is me shirt? Me noggin', noggin' shirt!
It's all gone for beer and tobacco,
For the collar is all worn, and the sleeves they all are torn,
The tail is looking out for better weather. chorus
I'm sick in the head and I haven't been to bed,
Since first I came ashore from me slumber,
For I spent all me dough on the lassies, don't ya' know,
Far across the western ocean I must wander. chorus
extra verse by Jim Hancock:
Well. our money was all spent, so to our ship we went,
The sea, it looked like whiskey; 'twas an omen,
For we set out to find Cathay, but we washed up far away,
On the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond.
Oh, you take the high road and I'll take the low road,
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye,
Where me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond. chorus
|
||||
13. |
||||
|
Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,
From glen to glen, and down the mountainside.
The summer's gone, and all the flowers falling,
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow,
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow,
Oh, Danny boy, oh, Danny boy I love you so.
But if you come when all the flowers are dying,
And I am dead, as dead I may well may be,
You'll come and find the place where I am lying,
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I will hear, though soft you tread above me,
And all my dreams shall warmer, sweeter be.
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me,
Then I will sleep in peace until you come to me.
|
||||
14. |
One Bottle More
01:33
|
|||
|
instrumental
|
||||
15. |
Wild Mountain Thyme
04:15
|
|||
|
Oh the summer time is comin', and the trees are sweetly bloomin',
And the wild moun-tain thyme, grows around the bloomin' heather.
Will ye go, lassie, go?
chorus
And we'll all go together,
To pick wild mountain thyme, All around the bloomin' heather, Will ye go, lassie, go?
I will build my love a bower, by yon pure and crystal fountain, And on it I will pile all the flowers of the mountain.
Will ye go, lassie, go? chorus
If my true love were to leave me, I would surely find another, Where the wild mountain thyme grows around the purple heather. Will ye go, lassie go? chorus
Oh, the summer time is leavin', and the trees are swiftly turnin', And the wild mountain thyme casts its seed on the purple heather. Will ye go, lassie, go? chorus
|
||||
16. |
Whiskey Before Breakfast
02:28
|
|||
|
instrumental
|
||||
Jim Hancock - The Burly Minstrel Bastrop, Texas
If you like Jim Hancock - The Burly Minstrel, you may also like:
From Cork, Ireland, Lewis Barfoot writes mystic, majestic songs derived from regional folk, with an ambient music aura.
go to album
The Two Worlds
by Brigid Mae Power
The latest LP from Brigid Mae Power is gorgeous and ghostly, setting Power’s voice against soft brushes of guitar, piano, & shuffling drums.
go to album
Songs of my land
by Chiyomi Yamada
Ancient Japanese folk songs are presented with Western folk-pop arrangements to haunting, elegant effect.
go to album
Dakota Blue Moon
by Jackson Harden
Gorgeous acoustic Americana from North Carolina, stripped-back and sublime.
go to album
An stunning debut that explores Greek folk tradition through a dreamy musical ecosystem.
go to album
Endurance Soundly Caged
by Stick In The Wheel
Adapting their calculated standards into a raw, live setting, the radical UK folk duo rework six highlights from their spellbindincatalogue.
go to album
The Water is the Shovel of the Shore
by Shovel Dance Collective
Traditional folk music and field recordings meld into fascinating long-form sound collages on the new LP from Shovel Dance Collective.
go to album
