Children Go Where I Send Thee

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A traditional spiritual with a meaning for each number. I have placed the meaning next to the verses in parentheses.
Lyrics:
[E] Children go [A] where I [E] send [A] thee
[E] How [A] shall I [E] send [A] thee?
[E] I’m gonna [A] send thee [E] one by one [A]
[E] One for the [A] Little Bitty [A] Baby
[E] Who was born, [A] born, [E] born in [B7] Bethlehem [E]

Two for Paul and Silas

Three for the Hebrew children

Four for the four who stood at the door (Mathew Mark Luke and John)

Five for the Gospel preachers (Mathew Mark Luke and John and all Gospel preachers)

Six for the jars where the wine was mixed (Miracle at the wedding feast at Cana)

Seven for the seven who came from Heaven (Seven-fold Spirit of God)

Eight for the eight who sealed their fate (The eight people who entered Noah’s Ark)

Nine for the ninety-nine in line (Those waiting while the Good Shepard sought His one lost sheep)

Ten for the ten commandments

Eleven for the eleven who went to Heaven (The eleven disciples minus Judas Iscariot)

Twelve for the twelve Apostles

Oh Mary Don't You Weep

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A good old gospel song from the southern United States. This has been recorded by many folk singers and exists in numerous versions.

Oh Mary Don’t You Weep

Mf – If You Miss Me at the Back of the Bus

Pb – Oh, Sisters Don’t You Weep

1. Sandburg, Carl / American Songbag, Harcourt Brace Jovan…, Sof (1928/1955), p476 (Pharaoh’s Army Got Drownded)
2. Leisy, James F. (ed.) / Songs for Pickin’ and Singin’, Gold Medal Books, sof (1962), p198
3. Carawan, Guy & Candie / Sing for Freedom, Sing Out, sof (1990), p 58
4. Lynn, Frank (ed.) / Songs for Swinging Housemothers, Fearon, Sof (1963/1961), p312
5. Best, Dick & Beth (eds.) / New Song Fest Deluxe, Charles Hansen, Sof (1971/1948), p148
6. Winds of the People, Sing Out, Sof (1982), p 35
7. Blood, Peter; and Annie Patterson (eds.) / Rise Up Singing, Sing Out, Sof (1989/1992), p 63
8. Sandburg, Helga (ed.) / Sweet Music, Dial, Bk (1963), p101 (Pharaoh’s Army)
9. Abe and Malka. Mandelblatt, Abe & Malka A. / 100 Guitar Accompanyments, Amsco, Sof (1974), p156
10. Davis, Bill. Sounds of the Smokies, Old Traditions BWD 51471, LP (197?), cut#A.04
11. Halifax Three. Halifax Three, Epic BN 26038, LP (1963), cut#B.06
12. Hurt, Mississippi John. Mississippi John Hurt, Vol. 3. Sacred and Secular, Heritage (England) HT320, LP (1988/reis/), cut# 9 (Mary Don’t You Weep)
13. Hurt, Mississippi John. Worried Blues, Piedmount PLP-13161, LP (196?/?), cut# 9
14. Hurt, Mississippi John. Garwood, Donald / Masters of Instrumental Blues Guitar, Oak, Fol (1967), p43
15. Kingston Trio. Close Up, Capitol T 1642, LP (1961), cut#A.04 (Don’t You Weep Mary)
16. Kingston Trio. Rediscover the Kingston Trio, Folk Era FE 2001, LP (1985), cut#A.04 (Oh, Mary)
17. Leadbelly. Leadbelly’s Last Sessions, Part 4, Folkways FA 2942, LP (196?/?), cut# 11 (Mary Don’t You Weep)
18. Leadbelly. Lomax, John & Alan Lomax (eds.) / Leadbelly. A Collection of World Famou, Folkways, sof (1959), p51 (Mary Doncha Weep)
19. Schilling, Jean. Old Traditions, Traditional JS-5117, LP (1967/1974), cut#A.03 (Mary Don’t You Weep)
20. Seeger, Pete. Seeger, Pete / American Favorite Ballads, Oak, Fol (1961), p78
21. Sheer, Anita. Anita Sheer, MGM E-4225, LP (196?), cut#B.06
22. Steamboat Entertainers. Galax International, Heritage (Galax) 067, LP (1988/?), cut# 19
23. Taussig, Harry. Taussig, Harry / Folk-Style Guitar, Oak, Sof (1973), p 97

Lyrics:
OH, MARY DON’T YOU WEEP

CHORUS:
[G] Oh, Mary, don’t you [D] weep, don’t mourn;
Oh, Mary, don’t you [G] weep, don’t mourn;
[C] Pharaoh’s army got [G] drowned,
Oh, [D] Mary, don’t you [G] weep.

X2

[G] Well if I could I surely [D] would,
Stand on the rock where [G] Moses stood.
[C] Pharaoh’s army got [G] drowned,
[G] Oh, [D] Mary, don’t you [G] weep.

CH X 2

One of these morns about twelve o’ clock
This old world is going to reel and rock
Pharaoh’s army got drowned,
Oh, Mary, don’t you weep.

CH X 3

Ruben Ranzo

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Ruben Ranzo

Ruben Ranzo, an inexperienced sailor is shanghaied aboard a whaling ship. The captain’s daughter takes pity on him, teaches him navigation and the finer points of sailing, marries him and he becomes the finest sailor on the seas.

It has been suggested that Ranzo is a corruption of the name Lorenzo. American whaling ships often recruited Portugese seamen in the Azores, and Ranzo may have been one of these.

* The holy stone resembled a vacuum cleaner in shape, but weighed around twenty-five pounds. A round stone was at the end of a handle. Sand was put on the deck and sailors scrubbed to get the gunk out of the wood.

Lyrics:
Oh, poor old Ruben Ranzo,
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
Oh, poor old Ruben Ranzo,
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

Oh, Ranzo was no sailor,
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
He was a New York tailor
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

He was a New York tailor
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
Shanghaied aboard a whaler,
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

They put him holy-stonin’ *
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
And cared not for his groanin’
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

They gave him lashes thirty
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
Because he was so dirty
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

They gave him lashes twenty
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
That’s twenty more than plenty
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

Ah Ranzo nearly fainted
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
When his back with oil was painted
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

The captain gave him thirty
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
His daughter begged for mercy
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

She took him to her cabin
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
And tried to ease his moanin’
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

Oh, she give him rum and water,
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
And a bit more than she ought to,
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

She gave him education
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
And taught him navigation
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

She made him the best sailor
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
On board that New York whaler
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

He married the captain’s daughter
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
And still sails on salt water
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

Now he’s known wherever them whale-fish blow,
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo
As the toughest whaler on the go,
Ranzo, me boys, Ranzo

There's A Hole In The Bucket

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There's A Hole In The Bucket

A circle song is one that comes back to where it started and begins again. It can go on indefinitely. This is the amusing story of Henry and Maria. Their bucket leaks and she wants him to fix it, but that never happens.

A true 'catch 22.'

Lyrics:
There's a [A] hole in the [D] bucket Maria, Maria
There's a [A] hole in the [D] bucket Maria, [E] there's a [A] hole

Then why don't you fix it dear Henry, dear Henry
Then why don't you fix it dear Henry, dear fix it!

With what shall I fix it Maria, Maria?
With what shall I fix it Maria, with what?

With straw dear Henry, dear Henry dear Henry
With straw dear Henry, dear Henry with straw.

But the straw is too long Maria, Maria
The straw is too long Maria, too long

Well cut it dear Henry, dear Henry dear Henry
Well cut it dear Henry, dear Henry just cut it!

With what shall I cut it Maria, Maria?
With what shall I cut it Maria, with what?

With an axe dear Henry, dear Henry dear Henry
With an axe dear Henry, dear Henry, with an axe!

But the axe is too dull Maria, Maria,
The axe is too dull, the axe is too dull

Then sharpen it dear Henry, dear Henry dear Henry
Then sharpen it dear Henry, dear Henry then sharpen it!

With what shall I sharpen it Maria, Maria?
With what shall I sharpen it Maria, with what?

With a stone dear Henry, dear Henry dear Henry
With a stone dear Henry, dear Henry, with a stone!

But the stone is too dry Maria, Maria
But the stone is too dry Maria, to dry

Then wet it dear Henry, dear Henry dear Henry
Then wet it dear Henry, dear Henry dear just wet it!

With what shall I wet it Maria, Maria?
With what shall I wet it Maria, with what?

With water dear Henry, dear Henry dear Henry
With water dear Henry, dear Henry with water.

But how shall I get it Maria, Maria
But how shall I get it Maria, but how

In the bucket dear Henry, dear Henry dear Henry
In the bucket dear Henry, dear Henry in the bucket

There's a hole in the bucket Maria, Maria
There's a hole in the bucket Maria, there's a hole

Red River Valley

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I remember watching Roy Rogers when I was a Chicago cowboy in the 1940s. Bob Nolan and the Sons of the Pioneers sang Red River Valley in a movie by the same name. This song always reminds me of my childhood fantasies of riding the range with a cowboy hat and a good chestnut mare.
Lyrics:
Red River Valley

[G] From this valley they say you are going
We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile [D]
[G] For they say you are taking the [C] sunshine
That has [D] brightened our path for a [G] while

Come and sit by my side if you love me
Do not hasten to bid me adieu
But remember the Red River Valley
And the cowboy who loved you so true

Won’t you think of the valley you’re leaving
Oh how lonely, how sad it will be?
Oh think of the fond heart you’re breaking
And the grief you are causing to me

As you go to your home by the ocean
May you never forget those sweet hours
That we spent in the Red River Valley
And the love we exchanged mid the flowers

Repeat first verse

Erie Canal

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This is a comic story about a tragic boat ride down the Erie Canal. I decided to sing this in the style of the late 50s – early 60s college folk groups. I can see the audience sitting an a large hall, the men wearing three button jackets and skinny ties and the ladies in pretty dresses.

The Erie Canal opened in 1825. The Ohio and Erie Canal, joining Cleveland and Portsmouth, was completed in 1845. For 25 years these canals were busy trade routes, piloted by burly, aggressive boatmen on long narrow craft. These keelboats were sharp at both ends, built on a keel and ribs.

Gradually the railroads replaced the keelboat as a form of commercial transportation and the canal traffic was greatly reduced.

Lyrics:
E-RI-E CANAL

[A] We were forty miles from Albany
Forget it I [E] never [A] shall.
[A] What a terrible [E] storm we [A] had one [D] night
[A] On the E-ri-e [E] – [A] Canal.

chorus:
O the E-ri-e was a-rising
And the gin was a-getting low.
And I scarcely think we’ll get a drink
Till we get to Buff-a-lo-o-o
Till we get to Buffalo.

We were loaded down with barley
We were chock-full up on rye.
The captain he looked down at me
With his gol-durned wicked eye.

Two days out from Syracuse
The vessel struck a shoal;
We like to all be foundered
On a chunk o’ Lackawanna coal.

We hollered to the captain
On the towpath, treadin’ dirt
He jumped on board and stopped the leak
With his old red flannel shirt.

The cook she was a grand old gal
Stood six foot in her socks.
Had a foot just like an elephant
And her breath would open locks.

The wind begins to whistle
The waves begin to roll
We had to reef our royals
On that ragin’ canal.

The cook came to our rescue
She had a ragged dress;
We h’isted her upon the pole
As a signal of distress.

When we got to Syracuse
Off-mule, he was dead;
The nigh mule got blind staggers
We cracked him on the head.

The cook is in the Police Gazette
The captain went to jail;
And I’m the only son-of-a-sea-cook
That’s left to tell the tale.

On Top Of Old Smokey

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I remember lying on the floor in front of the big brown cathedral radio at my grandmother’s house, listening to The Weavers sing ‘On Top of Old Smokey.’ It was on the ‘Hit Parade’ back then, just as popular as Coldplay, Weezer or Black Eyed Peas are today. It’s still a great song. I recorded it with my new 7-string Martin, a 5-string banjo and bass, with a few Rickenbacker 12-string licks at the end.
Lyrics:
[D] On top of old [G] Smokey
All covered with [D] snow
I lost my true [A] lover
For courting too [D] slow

Courting ‘s a pleasure
And parting is a grief
But a false hearted lover
Is worst than a thief

For a thief he will rob you
And take what you have
But a false hearted lover
Will lead you to your grave

The grave will decay you
And turn you to dust
One girl in a thousand
That a poor boy can trust

For they’ll hug and they’ll kiss you
And tell you more lies
That the crossties on a railroad
Or the stars in th sky

So come all you young fellows
Take a warning from me
Never place your affection
On a green growing tree

For the leaves they will wither
And the roots will decay
And a false hearted lover
Will soon fade away

On top of old Smokey
All covered with snow
I lost my true lover
For courting too slow

Old Riley

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Painting by: William H. Johnson
Chain Gang
National Museum of American Art
Smithsonian Institution,
Washington, D.C.

This song is actually made up of two traditional songs combined by Lead Belly. They are prison work songs used for flat weeding. ‘Rattler’ was the name generally given to the lead search dog on a prison farm.

The name ‘Old Riley’ comes up in at least one other prison song. The line ‘Believe I’ll do like Old Riley, Old Riley walked de Brazos’ appears in ‘Ain’t No More Cane on the Brazos.’ When an inmate tried to break out of prison, he would make his way up the river bed through the shallow water, to lose his scent to the blood hounds who were in hot pursuit. This was called ‘walking the water.’ Apparently Old Riley was one prisoner who got away.

Lyrics:
OLD RILEY

[G] Old Riley walked the [C] water,
[G] Old Riley walked the [C] water
[G] In them long hot [D] summer [G] days.

Old Riley he is gone,
Old Riley he is gone
In them long hot summer days.

[G] Riley walked the [C] water;
[G] Here, [D] Rattler, [G] here
[G] Old Riley walked the [C] water;
[G] Here, [D] Rattler, [G] here.

Old Riley’s gone like a turkey in the corn
Here, Rattler, here.
Old Riley’s gone like a turkey in the corn
Here, Rattler, here.

Rattler come when I blow my horn
Here, Rattler, here.
Old Rattler come when I blow my horn
Here, Rattler, here.

Old Rattler’s got him a marrow bone,
Here, Rattler, here.
Old Rattler’s got him a marrow bone,
Here, Rattler, here.

Old Riley’s gone like a turkey in the corn,
Here, Rattler, here.
Old Riley’s gone like a turkey through the corn,
Here, Rattler, here.

Old Riley walked the water
Old Riley walked the water
In them long hot summer days.

Combination of traditional Words & Music by Huddie Ledbetter.

Another variation is here:

Here Rattler Here

Old Riley crossed the water,
On them long hot summer days
Old Riley crossed the water.
On them long hot summer days,

Oh Sic ‘im, oh sic ‘im
Oh sic ‘im done gone,
here rattler here
Oh sic ‘im, oh sic ‘im.
Oh sic ‘im done gone,
Here rattler here

Riley crossed the water;
On dem long hot summer days
Riley crossed the water
On dem long hot summer days
He’s headed for the river;
As sure as your born.
Here, Rattler, here.
He can hear the sheriff blowin his horn
Here, Rattler, here.

Here old rattler
Here rattler here
Hey old rattler
Here rattler here

Oh Sic ‘im, oh sic ‘im
Oh sic ‘im done gone,
here rattler here
Oh sic ‘im, oh sic ‘im.
Oh sic ‘im done gone,
Here rattler here

Riley crossed the water;
On dem long hot summer days
Riley crossed the water
On dem long hot summer days

He’s headed for the river;
Where we can’t go.
Here, Rattler, here.
Headed up north for freedom land
Here, Rattler, here.

Hey old rattler
Here rattler here
Hey old rattler
Here rattler here

Oh Sic ‘im, oh sic ‘im
Oh sic ‘im done gone,
here rattler here
Oh sic ‘im, oh sic ‘im.
Oh sic ‘im done gone,
Here rattler here

Old Riley crossed the water
In them long hot summer days.
Old Riley crossed the water;
In them long hot summer days.

So Early In The Spring

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This is a sea chantey that got distilled, and transformed into a love ballad in the Appalachian Mountains. The origin is Scottish, but the lyrical style is obviously from the Southern United States. Many settlers to the New World brought their music with them, only to have it subtly changed over time.

Another example of this phenomenon is Jean Ritchie’s song ‘Nottamun Town,’ which only survived by being brought to North America. When, as a Fulbright Scholar she visited Nottingham, England to research the roots of the song, it had completely disappeared in its original form.

Appalachian Traditional Music, A Short History:
http://www.mustrad.org.uk/articles/appalach.htm

Lyrics:
SO EARLY IN THE SPRING

[A] It being early in the spring
I went on board to serve my [E] king
[A] Leaving my dearest [F#m] dear behind
She [E] oftimes swore her heart was[F#m] mine

As I lay smiling in her arms
I thought I held ten thousand charms
With embraces kind and a kiss so sweet
Saying We’ll be married when next we meet

As I was sailing on the sea
I took a kind opportunity
Of writing letters to my dear
But scarce one word from her did hear

As I was walking up London Street
I shoved a letter from under my feet
Straight lines being wrote without any blot
Saying seldom seen is soon forgot

I went up to her father’s hall
And for my dearest dear did call
She’s married, sir, she’s better for life
For she has become a rich man’s wife

If the girl is married, whom I adore
I’m sure I’ll stay on land no more.
Straight lines being wrote without any blot
Saying seldom seen is soon forgot

So come young lads take a warn from me
If in love you’ll ever be
For love is patient,love is kind,
Just never leave your love behind

It being early in the spring
I went on board to serve my king
Leaving my dearest dear behind
She oftimes swore her heart was mine

New words and new music by Roger McGuinn (C) 2005 McGuinn Music (BMI)

Wanderin'

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This was originally a post World War I lament of a soldier returning
to hard times in America. I’ve interpreted it as a tribute to traveling and have
written a few new verses to reflect my love of wanderin’
Lyrics:
[C] My daddy is an engineer, [Em] my brother drives a hack
My [F] sister takes in washing and the [Dm] baby balls the jack
[C] And it looks like I’m [Em] never going to [Am] cease my [Dm] –
[G7] – [C] wandering

I’ve been out a-wandering both early and late
From New York City to the Golden Gate
And it looks like I’m never going to cease my wandering

Been across this country so many times before,
But I never lose the feeling, that’s what God made me for
And it looks like I’m never going to cease my wandering

Been working in the city, working on the farm
I always have a guitar underneath my arm
And it looks like I’m never going to cease my wandering

Played most every country, played most every town
Want to keep on playing, this whole wide world around
And it looks like I’m never going to cease my wandering

There’s fish in the ocean, and eels in the sea
And everywhere I haven’t been, that’s where I want to be
And it looks like I’m never going to cease my wandering

Traditional, New lyrics by Roger McGuinn (C) McGuinn Music 2005 / BMI