Archive for the 'Irish/british' Category



Don’t Forget Your Old Shipmate


h1 Thursday, November 1st, 2018

Lyrics:
Don’t forget yer old shipmate

Safe and sound at home again, let the waters roar, Jack.
Safe and sound at home again, let the waters roar, Jack.

Chorus
Long we’ve tossed on the rolling main, now we’re safe ashore, Jack.
Don’t forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-eye-doe!

Since we sailed from Plymouth Sound, four years gone, or nigh, Jack.
Was there ever chummies, now, such as you and I, Jack?

Long we’ve tossed on the rolling main, now we’re safe ashore, Jack.
Don’t forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-eye-doe!

We have worked the self-same gun, quarterdeck division.
Sponger I and loader you, through the whole commission.

Long we’ve tossed on the rolling main, now we’re safe ashore, Jack.
Don’t forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-eye-doe!

Oftentimes have we laid out, toil nor danger fearing,
Tugging out the flapping sail to the weather earing.

Long we’ve tossed on the rolling main, now we’re safe ashore, Jack.
Don’t forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-eye-doe!

When the middle watch was on, and the time went slow, boy,
Who could choose a rousing stave, who like Jack or Joe, boy?

Long we’ve tossed on the rolling main, now we’re safe ashore, Jack.
Don’t forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-eye-doe!

There she swings, an empty hulk, not a soul below now.
Number seven starboard mess misses Jack and Joe now.

Long we’ve tossed on the rolling main, now we’re safe ashore, Jack.
Don’t forget yer old shipmate, faldee raldee raldee raldee rye-eye-doe!

But the best of friends must part, fair or foul the weather.
Hand yer flipper for a shake, now a drink together.

A Begging I will Go


h1 Monday, October 1st, 2018

Lyrics:
A-begging I will go
F Bb F C7
There was a jovial beggar, he had a wooden leg
Dm (Gm) C7 F
Lame from his cradle and forcéd for to beg

Gm C7 F (C7)
And a-begging I will go, I will go,
(Bb) Gm C7 F (C7)
and a-begging I will go.

Of all the trades in England, a-beggin’ is the best
For when a beggar’s tired, You can lay him down to rest.

Got a pocket for me oatmeal, and another for me rye.
Got a bottle by me side to drink when I am dry.

I got patches on me cloak, and black patch on me knee.
When you come to take me home, I’ll drink as well as thee.

I got a pocket for me whiskey another for me gin
If you race me with me crutches, be sure that I will win.

It’s underneath a bridge I live, I pay no rent
Providence provides for me, and I am well content.

I fear no plots against me. I live an open cell.
Who would be a king then when beggar lives so well.

New Words By Roger McGuinn McGuinn Music BMI 2018

The Foggy Foggy Dew


h1 Saturday, September 1st, 2018

“The Foggy Foggy Dew” is an English folk song describing the outcome of an affair between a weaver and a young lady he courted. Burl Ives made a version of it popular in the 1940s. He spent the night in jail for singing it in Mona, Utah where authorities deemed it a bawdy song.
It is No.558 in the Roud Folk Song Index.
Lyrics:
[G] When I was a [Am] bachelor, I liv’d all alone
[D] I worked at the weaver’s [G] trade
And the only, only thing that [Am] I ever did wrong
[D] Was to woo a fair young [G] maid.
[D] I wooed her in the [G] wintertime
[D] And in the summer, [G] too
And the only, only [Em] thing that I [Am] did that was wrong
Was to [D] keep her from the foggy, foggy [G] dew.

One night she came to my bedside
When I was fast asleep.
She laid her head upon my bed
And she began to weep.
She sighed, she cried, she damn near died
She said what shall I do?
So I hauled her into bed and covered up her head
Just to keep her from the foggy foggy dew.

So, I am a bachelor, I live with my son
And we work at the weaver’s trade.
And every single time that I look into his eyes
He reminds me of that fair young maid.
He reminds me of the wintertime
And of the summer, too,
And of the many, many times that I held her in my arms
Just to keep her from the foggy, foggy, dew.

The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond


h1 Sunday, July 1st, 2018

A Favorite Scottish Ballad (Roud No. 9598) based on a Jacobite lament written after the Battle of Culloden following the 1745 uprising.
Lyrics:
Guitar tuned down to D.

[G] By yon bonnie [Em] banks and by [Am] yon bonnie [C] braes,
[G] Where the sun shines [Em] bright on Loch [C] Lomon’. [D]
[Em] where me and my true love [Am] were ever wont to [C] go
[G] On the bonnie, bonnie [Em] banks o’ Loch [D] Lomon’. [G]

Chorus: [G] O ye’ll tak’ the [Em] high road and [Am] I’ll tak the [C] low road,
[G] An’ I’ll be in [Em] Scotland [C] afore [D] ye;
[Em] But me and my true love will [Am] never meet [C] again
[G] On the bonnie, bonnie [Em] banks o’ Loch [D] Lomon’. [G]

[G] ‘Twas there that we [Em] parted in [Am] yon shady [C] glen,
[G] On the steep, steep [Em] side o’ [C] Ben Lomon’, [D]
[Em] Where in purple hue the [Am] Hieland hills we [C] view,
[G] An’ the moon [Em] comin’ out in the [D] gloamin’. [G]

Chorus: [G] O ye’ll tak’ the [Em] high road and [Am] I’ll tak the [C] low road,
[G] An’ I’ll be in [Em] Scotland [C] afore [D] ye;
[Em] But me and my true love will [Am] never meet [C] again
[G] On the bonnie, bonnie [Em] banks o’ Loch [D] Lomon’. [G]

[G] The wee birdies [Em] sing and the [Am] wild flow’rs [C] spring,
[G] And in sunshine the [Em] waters are [C] sleepin’; [D]
[Em] But the broken heart it [Am] kens no second [C] spring,
[G] Tho’ the woeful may [Em] cease from their [D] greetin’ [G]

Chorus: [G] O ye’ll tak’ the [Em] high road and [Am] I’ll tak the [C] low road,
[G] An’ I’ll be in [Em] Scotland [C] afore [D] ye;
[Em] But me and my true love will [Am] never meet [C] again
[G] On the bonnie, bonnie[Em] banks o’ Loch [D] Lomon’. [G]

My Rose In June


h1 Friday, June 1st, 2018

Old English Ballad first collected in Dorset England in 1905
Lyrics:
CAPO on 3rd fret
[Em] Was down in the valleys, the [D] valleys so [Em] deep,
To pick some plain roses to keep my [D] love [Em] sweet.
[G] So let it come early, [D] late or [Em] soon,
I will enjoy my [D] rose in [Em] June.
[G] rose in June, [D] rose in [Em] June
I will enjoy my [D] rose in [Em] June.

O, the roses red, the violets blue,
Carnations sweet, love and so are you,
So let it come early, late or soon,
I will enjoy my rose in June.
rose in June, rose in June
I will enjoy my rose in June.

O love, I will carry thy sweet milking pail,
O love, I will kiss you on every stile
So let it come early, late or soon,
I will enjoy my rose in June.
rose in June, rose in June
I will enjoy my rose in June.

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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