Archive for the 'Irish/british' Category



Leaving of Liverpool


h1 Thursday, February 1st, 2018

Camilla and I will be sailing from Valparaíso, Chile to Buenos Aires this month too. I thought another English sea chantey from the 1860′s was in order. Why, because I love them!

I will be giving lectures on board the Silver Sea Muse. One of those lectures will be about sea chanteys.

Here’s a brief description of the trip from the Silver Sea website:

Voyage to the soaring mountain peaks, and slowly scraping glaciers, of Chile. See poetic Valparaiso sprawling bright colors, colonial architecture and history haphazardly across the hills, before sailing amid the finger-like mountains of the staggering Chilean Fjords. Tour the flicking tail of the continent’s southernmost tip, before dropping in on the Falkland Islands, Uruguay, and Argentina.

Lyrics:

Leaving of Liverpool

[D] Fare thee well to you, my [G] own true love,
[D] I am going far [A] away
[D] I am bound for [G] California,
[D] But I know that I’ll be [A] home some [D] day

[A] So fare thee well, my [D] own true love,
For when I return, united we will [A] be
[D] It’s not the leaving of Liverpool that [G] grieves me,
[D] But my darling when [A] I think of [D] thee

I am bound on a Yankee clipper ship,
Davy Crockett is her name,
And Burgess is the captain of her,
And they say that she is a floating shame

So fare thee well, my own true love,
For when I return, united we will be
It’s not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my darling when I think of thee

Oh the sun is high on the harbour, love,
And I wish I could remain,
For I know it’ll be a long, long time,
Before you see me again

So fare thee well, my own true love,
For when I return, united we will be
It’s not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my darling when I think of thee

Roll Alabama Roll


h1 Monday, January 1st, 2018

Camilla and I will be sailing from Valparaíso, Chile to Buenos Aires this month. I thought an English halyard sea chantey from the 1860′s would be appropriate. I will be giving lectures on board the Silver Sea Muse. One of those lectures will be about sea chanteys.

Here’s a brief description of the trip from the Silver Sea website:

Voyage to the soaring mountain peaks, and slowly scraping glaciers, of Chile. See poetic Valparaiso sprawling bright colors, colonial architecture and history haphazardly across the hills, before sailing amid the finger-like mountains of the staggering Chilean Fjords. Tour the flicking tail of the continent’s southernmost tip, before dropping in on the Falkland Islands, Uruguay, and Argentina.

Lyrics:

[F] When the Alabama’s keel was [C] laid
[C] Roll, [Bb] Alabama, [C] roll!
[F] It was laid in the yards of Jonathan [C] Laird
[Bb] Oh, [F] roll, [C] Alabama, [F] roll!

It was laid in the yards of Jonathan Laird
Roll, Alabama, roll!
It was laid in the town of Birkenhead
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!

Down Mersey way she sailed and then
Roll, Alabama, roll!
Liverpool fitted her with guns and men
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!

Down Mersey way she sail-ed forth
Roll, Alabama, roll!
To destroy the commerce of the North
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!

To Cherbourg harbor she sailed one day
Roll, Alabama, roll!
To collect her share of the prize money
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!

And many a sailor saw his doom
Roll, Alabama, roll!
When the yankee Kearsarge hove in view
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!

And a shot from the forward pivot that day
Roll, Alabama, roll!
Blew the Alabama’s stern away

And off the three-mile limit, in sixty-four
Roll, Alabama, roll!
Well she sank to the bottom of the ocean floor
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!

The Wild Colonial Boy


h1 Wednesday, November 1st, 2017

The Wild Colonial Boy is a traditional Irish song. It’s the story of a young lad who sailed from his home in Castlemaine, County Kerry, Ireland to Australia in the early nineteenth century and became a sort of Robbin Hood “robbing from the rich to feed the poor.” This is an account of his adventure.

Lyrics:

[D] There was a wild [G] colonial boy,
[A7] Jack Duggan was his [D] name
He was born and raised in [Em] Ireland,
in a [A7 place called [D] Castlemaine
He was his father’s [Em] only son,
his [A7] mother’s pride and [D] joy
And dearly did his [G] parents love
the [A7] wild colonial [D] boy

At the early age of sixteen years,
he left his native home
And to Australia’s sunny shore,
he was inclined to roam
He robbed the rich, he helped the poor,
he shot James MacEvoy
A terror to Australia was
the wild colonial boy

One morning on the prairie,
as Jack he rode along
A-listening to the mocking bird,
a-singing a cheerful song
Up stepped a band of troopers:
Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy
They all set out to capture him,
the wild colonial boy

Surrender now, Jack Duggan,
for you see we’re three to one.
Surrender in the King’s high name,
you are a plundering son
Jack drew two pistols from his belt,
he proudly waved them high.
“I’ll fight, but not surrender,”
said the wild colonial boy

He fired a shot at Kelly,
which brought him to the ground
And turning round to Davis,
he received a fatal wound
A bullet pierced his proud young heart,
from the pistol of Fitzroy
And that was how they captured him,
the wild colonial boy

Dives And Lazarus


h1 Friday, September 1st, 2017

This is a story Jesus told about a rich man and a beggar. They both died and the beggar was comforted while the rich man suffered in eternal flames.

Luke 16:19–31, New International Version:

19“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. 20At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores 21and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.
22“The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. 23In Hades, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. 24So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’
25“But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. 26And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’
27“He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, 28for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’
29“Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’
30“‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’
31“He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’”

Lyrics:

Guitar tuned down to D

1. [Em] As it fell out [G] upon a [D] day,
[G] Rich Dives made a [D] feast,
[Em] And he invited [G] all his [D] friends,
[G] And gentry of the [Em] best.

2. [G] Then Lazarus laid him [D] down and [G] down,
And down at Dives’ [D] door;
[Em] Some meat, some drink, [G] brother [D] Dives,
[Em] Bestow [D] upon the [Em] poor.

3. Thou’rt none of my brother, Lazarus,
That lies begging at my door;
Nor meat nor drink will I give to thee,
Nor bestow upon the poor.

4. As it fell out upon a day,
Poor Lazarus sickened and died;
There came two Angels out of Heaven,
His soul therein to guide.

5. Rise up, rise up, brother Lazarus,
And come along with me;
There’s a place in Heaven prepared for thee,
To sit upon an Angel’s knee.

6. As it fell out upon a day,
Rich Dives sickened and died;
There came two serpents out of Hell,
His soul therein to guide.

7. Rise up, rise up, brother Dives,
And come along with me;
There’s a place in Hell prepared for thee,
To sit upon a serpent’s knee.

8. Then Dives looked with burning eyes,
And saw poor Lazarus blest;
One drop of water, Lazarus,
To quench my flaming thirst!

9. Oh! were I but to live again,
For the space of one half hour,
I would make my peace and so secure
That the Devil should have no power

Scarborough Faire


h1 Tuesday, August 1st, 2017

This is a traditional English song

Lyrics:

[Em] Are you going to [D] Scarborough [Em] Faire?
Parsley, [C] sage, [D] rosemary and [Bm] thyme.
[Em] Remember [D] me to [Bm] one who lived [Bm] there.
[Em] She once [D] was a [Bm] true love of [Em] mine.

Have her make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Without no seams, nor fine needle work.
Then she’ll be a true love of mine.

Love imposes impossible tasks
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Though not more than any heart asks.
And I must know she’s true love of mine

When thou has finished thy task.
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Come to me my hand for to ask.
For then you’ll be a true love of mine

Cupid’s Garden


h1 Monday, May 1st, 2017

This traditional song (Roud 297) is about an 18th century tea garden located on the south side of the River Thames in London. It was named after Abraham Boydell Cuper. It became known as “Cupid’s Garden because of the questionable morals of its visitors and as a result, lost its licence in 1736.

Lyrics:

[G] ‘Twas down in Cupid’s [D] Garden I [C] wandered for to [D] view
[G] The sweet and lovely [D] flowers [C] that in the [D] garden [G] grew,
[G] And one it was sweet [D] jasmin, the [C] lily, pink and [D] rose;
[G] They are the finest [D] flowers [C] that in the [D] garden [G] grow
[C] that in the [D] garden [G] grow.

I had not been in the garden but scarcely half an hour,
When I beheld two maidens, sat under a shady bower,
And one it was sweet Nancy, so beautiful and fair,
The other was a virgin and did the laurels wear
and did the laurels wear.

I boldly stepped up to them and unto them did say,
“Are you engaged to any young man, come tell to me, I pray?”
“No, I’m not engaged to any young man, I solemnly declare;
I mean to stay a virgin and still the laurels wear”
and still the laurels wear.

So, hand in hand together, this loving couple went;
To view the secrets of her heart was the sailor’s full intent,
Or whether she would slight him while he to the wars did go.
Her answer was, “Not I, my love, for I love a sailor bold”
for I love a sailor bold.

It’s down in Portsmouth Harbour, there’s a ship lies waiting there;
Tomorrow to the seas I’ll go, let the wind blow high or fair.
And, if I should live to return again, how happy I should be
With you, my love, my own true love, sitting smiling on my knee
sitting smiling on my knee.

Roll In My Sweet Baby’s Arms


h1 Sunday, January 1st, 2017

“Roll In My Sweet Baby’s Arms” is a traditional folk song often recorded by bluegrass and country artists. It was derived from a cowboy song titled “My Lula Gal” which was taken from an old British song “Bang Bang Rosie.”

Lyrics:

[G] Roll in my sweet baby’s arms
Roll in my sweet baby’s [D] arms
[G] Lay around the shack ’til the [C] coal train comes back
[D] And I’ll roll in my sweet baby’s [G] arms

[G] I ain’t gonna work in the city
I ain’t gonna work on the [D] farm
[G] Lay around the shack ’til the [C] coal train comes back
[D] And I’ll roll in my sweet baby’s [G] arms

Roll in my sweet baby’s arms
Roll in my sweet baby’s arms
Lay around the shack ’til the coal train comes back
And I’ll roll in my sweet baby’s arms

Now you ought a see my baby
She’s so sweet and kind
I take her every place I go
I never would leave her behind

Roll in my sweet baby’s arms
Roll in my sweet baby’s arms
Lay around the shack ’til the coal train comes back
And I’ll roll in my sweet baby’s arms

I know her parents they like me
They welcome me in their door
Invite me to a real fine meal
And ask if I want any more

Roll in my sweet baby’s arms
Roll in my sweet baby’s arms
Lay around the shack ’til the coal train comes back
And I’ll roll in my sweet baby’s arms

Roll in my sweet baby’s arms
Roll in my sweet baby’s arms
Lay around the shack ’til the coal train comes back
And I’ll roll in my sweet baby’s arms

(c) McGuinn Music /
New Lyrics By Roger McGuinn

The Belle of Belfast City


h1 Friday, July 1st, 2016

This is a well known children’s song from the 19th century. It is in the Roud Folk Song Index as number 2649. It’s been collected in various parts of England and Ireland. When sung in Northern Ireland it’s known as “The Belle of Belfast City.” There is a game associated with this song. Children form a ring by joining hands while one child stands in the middle. When asked “Please tell me who they be?” The child in the middle gives the name or initials of a child in the ring and after the rest of the lyrics are sung the named child goes in the middle.

Lyrics:
[G] I’ll tell my ma [C] when I get home,
[G] The boys won’t leave [D] the girls alone
[G] They pull my hair and [C] stole my comb
[D] But that’s all right [G] till I go home

[G] She is handsome, [C] she is pretty,
[G] She is the Belle of [D] Belfast city
[G] She is a courtin’ [C] one, two, three,
[D] Please won’t you tell me [G] who is she

Albert Mooney says he loves her,
All the boys are fightin’ for her
Knock at the door and ring at the bell,
Saying oh my true love, are you well

Out she comes as white as snow,
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Ould Johnny Morrissey says she’ll die
If she doesn’t get the fella with the roving eye

Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come travellin’ through the sky
She’s as sweet as apple pie,
She’ll get her own lad by and by

When she gets a lad of her own
She won’t tell her ma when she gets home
Let them all come as they will
For it’s Albert Mooney she loves still

My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean


h1 Sunday, May 1st, 2016

The subject of this song was probably Charles Edward Stuart (Bonnie Prince Charlie) who was defeated at the Battle of Culloden in 1746. He was forced into exile in Europe, changing aliases and disguises for the rest of his life. His supporters could have pretended it was simply a love song.

I was unable to sing today because of a cold I caught on our last concert tour so I used the other voice I’m known for (that of the Rickenbacker 12-string.)

Lyrics:
[G] My Bonnie lies [C] over the [G] ocean
My Bonnie lies over the [D] sea
[G] My Bonnie lies [C] over the [G] ocean
[C] Oh, bring back my [D] Bonnie to [G] me

Chorus:
[G] Bring back, [C] bring back
[D] O,Bring back my Bonnie [G] to me, to me
[G] Bring back, [C] bring back
[D] O,Bring back my Bonnie to [G] me

Last night as I lay on my pillow
Last night as I lay on my bed
Last night as I lay on my pillow
I dreamt that my Bonnie was dead

Oh blow the winds o’er the ocean
And blow the winds o’er the sea
Oh blow the winds o’er the ocean
And bring back my Bonnie to me

This Old Man


h1 Tuesday, March 1st, 2016

This is an English language children’s counting, nursery rhyme listed in the Roud Folk Song Index: number 3550. Nobody knows who composed it but it was said to have been learned from a Welsh nurse in the 1870s.

Lyrics:
[G] This old man, he played one,
[C] He played knick-knack on my [D] thumb;
[G] With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
[D] This old man came [G] rolling home.

This old man, he played two,
He played knick-knack on my shoe;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played three,
He played knick-knack on my knee;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played four,
He played knick-knack on my door;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played five,
He played knick-knack on my hive;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played six,
He played knick-knack on my sticks;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played seven,
He played knick-knack up in heaven;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played eight,
He played knick-knack on my gate;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played nine,
He played knick-knack on my spine;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.

This old man, he played ten,
He played knick-knack once again;
With a knick-knack paddywhack,
Give the dog a bone,
This old man came rolling home.