East Virginia

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This love song was also passed around by word of
mouth, throughout the Appalachain Mountains for many years.I learned it
at the Old Town School of Folk Music.

This recording was made in the late 50’s at my home, 57 East Division
Street, in Chicago. I used a Pentron reel to reel tape recorder running
at 7 1/2 IPS.

Lyrics:
East Virginia

[F#m] I was born and raised in East [E] Virginia
[F#m] North Carolina I did roam
[F#m] And there I met the fairest [E] maiden
[F#m] Her name and age I do not know

Her hair it was of a light brown color
Her cheeks they were of a rosy red
And on her breasts she wore white lilies
Where I long to lay my head

I’d rather be in some dark ‘holler’
Where the sun don’t never shine
Than to see he wed another
And to know that she’s never be mine

I was born and raised in East Virginia
North Carolina I did roam
And there I met the fairest maiden
Her name and age I do not know

� 1998 McGuinn Music – Roger McGuinn

Alberta

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This is a song sung by the stevedores who worked on
the Ohio River. There were two types of river songs. The first was the
fast ‘Jump Down Turn Around’ type. The other kind was slow and blusey.
That could be because when it came time to load and unload these boats,
it was a pretty busy session. There was lots of time in between to sing
songs like this one.
Lyrics:
[D] Alberta let your [C] hair hang [D] low,[C]
[D] Alberta let your [C] hair hang [D] low,
[G] I’ll give you more [Bm] gold than your [F#m] apron can [G] hold
[D] If you’ll just let your [C] hair hang low [D]

Alberta what’s on you mind
Alberta what’s on you mind
You keep me worried, you keep me bothered all the time
Alberta what’s on you mind

Alberta don’t treat me unkind
Alberta don’t treat me unkind
My heart feels sad ’cause I want you so bad
Alberta don’t treat me unkind

Alberta let your hair hang low,
Alberta let your hair hang low,
I’ll give you more gold than your apron can hold
If you’ll just let your hair hang low

Happy Valentine’s Day
Roger McGuinn � 1998 McGuinn Music

Lost Jimmy Whelan

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There are versions of this song, where the ghost of Lost Jimmy Whelan comes back to tell the fair maiden that they are both better off now that he is no longer burdened with the cares of this world.

I recorded this for the Folk Den just minutes after hearing of the unfortunate death of Bob Gibson. If it hadn't been for Bob, I might never have learned this, or any other folk song.

Thank you Bob, for everything!

Lyrics:
Am G F E7
All alone as I strayed by the banks of the river
C Dm Am
Watching the moonbeams as evening drew neigh
Am G F E7
All alone as I rambled, I spied a fair damsel
C Dm Am
Weeping and wailing with many a sigh.

Weeping for one who is now lying lowly
Mourning for one whom no mortal can save
As the foaming dark waters flow silently o'er him
Onward they sweep over young Jimmy's grave

Oh Jimmy why can't you tarry here with me
Not leave me alone all distracted in pain
But since death is the dagger which has cut us asunder
Then wide is the gulf, love between you and I

All alone as I strayed by the banks of the river
Watching the moonbeams as evening drew neigh
All alone as I rambled, I spied a fair damsel
Weeping and wailing with many a sigh.

Tribute to Bob Gibson

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I got a letter from Bob Gibson the other day:

'From the Computer of … Bob Gibson

August 15, 1996

Dear Friends,

As my health has declined, I have found that I may miss
music more than anything else. I miss making music,
listening to music and being around others who have
music in their blood. So, I'm going to have a party and
invite everyone to bring their voices, instruments and
songs!

Please join me, just north of Chicago, at the Sheraton
North Shore on Friday, September 20, 1996 to visit and jam!
I've arranged for a small sound system, a no host bar,
light refreshments, and a view of the Chicago skyline. I
would like to see you, hear you and just say hello.

This may be the last chance I have to see many of you. I
am finding it increasingly difficult to do the simplest
things and traveling is really a challenge. I won't be
able to play and sing with you, but I'm really looking
forward to being an audience of one! Please RSVP to my
daughter Susan by September 15, 1996.

I hope to see you there.

Bob

John Brown and Spanky McFarlane wrote a new
version of 'Sweet Betsy From Pike' for this
occasion.

I won't be able to attend, but I wanted to sing
their song, here in the Folk Den for Bob.

The capo is on the third fret.

'Bobby From Chi'

To the tune of 'Sweet Betsy From Pike'
Lyrics by: John Brown & Elane McFarlane

Lyrics:
C Em F C

Oh don't you remember sweet Bobby from Chi?

C Am Dm G

He sang in a cellar, a folk-singin' guy

F

He picked on the banjo and 12-string guitar

C Em F C Em Am G

At the old Gate of Horn, what a wonderful bar!

And down in that cellar, all smoky and damp

He sang of Old Blue with young Bobby Camp

The crowd was ecstatic, my gosh what a scene

With liner notes written by Shel Silverstein

They gave the old folk songs a twist that was new

Camp hollered 'I'm sorry your mother turned blue'

In three-button suits they were polished and lean

They kept off the weight with that pure methadrene

Now all us young folkies thought Bob was the rage

We'd sneak in the 'Gate' and we'd sit near the stage

But we didn't go there just lookin' for kicks

We'd check out his changes and copy his licks

Oh don't you remember sweet Bobby my friend?

We'll be playing your music from now 'til the end

Now here's to you Bobby, a toast from the heart

Make Saint Peter smile with that 12-string guitar

Springfield Mountain

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'Springfield Mountain' is purported to be the first original American ballad. This was how the news was spread in the days before radio, television or the internet. A minstrel would go from town to town and sing about the most recent events. This song is the true story of twenty-two year old Lieutenant Timothy Merrick, a young man who was about to be married. He was bitten by a rattlesnake in Springfield Mountain Massachusetts, on August 7, 1761 and died within three hours of the attack. His grave can still be seen fourteen miles north of that city.

There are many different versions of this ballad. Some were wild exaggerations made up by vaudeville performers, in which Merrick's wife-to-be died as a result of trying to suck the poison out with a broken tooth.

'Now Molly had a broken tooth, and so the poison killed them both.'

On this song, I used a Martin 0021 6-string and a Vega/Ode 5-string banjo. Both instruments are tuned down 1/2 step. 'Springfield Mountain' is here in honor of Spring. Watch your step.

Lyrics:
[Am] On Springfield Mountain there did dwell
[C] Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
[Am] On Springfield Mountain there did dwell [E7] tum – a – row
[Am] On Springfield Mountain [G]there did dwell A [F] handsome youth I knew [E7] full well
[Am] Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – [G] lime – a – diddle – [Am] do

One Monday morning he did go
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
One Monday morning he did go tum – a – row
One Monday morning he did go Down in the meadow for to mow
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

He mowed once round that lengthy field
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
He mowed once round that lengthy field tum – a – row
He mowed once round that lengthy field And a poison serpent bit his heel
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

They brought him to his Molly dear
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
They brought him to his Molly dear tum – a – row
They brought him to his Molly dear Which made her feel so mighty queer
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

Oh Johnny dear why did you go?
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
Oh Johnny dear why did you go? tum – a – row
Oh Johnny dear why did you go Down in the meadow for to mow?
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

Oh Molly Dear now don't you know
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
Oh Molly Dear now don't you know tum – a – row
Oh Molly Dear now don't you know It's father's field and must be mowed
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

On Springfield Mountain there did dwell
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do
On Springfield Mountain there did dwell tum – a – row
On Springfield Mountain there did dwell A handsome youth I knew him well
Right – tum – a – new – rife – a – lime – a – diddle – do

John Riley

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I first heard this song in 1960, at the Club 47, in Cambridge Massachusetts. Joan Baez was performing. She was young and beautiful, with long, flowing black hair. She played and sang with more feeling than anyone I had ever seen before. Her finger-picking technique particularly impressed me, because a lot of folk singers just strummed. But she could really pick.

I was in love that autumn, with the colors and smells of Cambridge and with Joan Baez.

The 12-string is in the Dm position, but played in the key of E with a capo on the second fret. The 5-string banjo is in the G position with the fifth string tuned down to E.

Lyrics:
[Dm] Fair young maid [G] all in her [Dm] garden
Strange young man [G] come riding [Dm] by
Saying fair young [F] maid will you marry [C] me?
And this dear [Em] sir was her [Dm] reply

Oh no dear sir I cannot marry thee
For I've a love who sails the deep salt sea
Though he's been gone for seven years
Still no man shall marry me

What if he's died all in some battle slain?
Or if he's drownded in the deep salt sea
What if he's found another love
He and his new love both married be?

Well if he's died all in some battle slain
Or if he's drownded in the deep salt sea
I'll remember his good name
And still no man shall marry me.

And if he's found some other love
He and his true love both married be
I wish them health and happiness
Where they now live all across the sea

He picked her up all in his arms
And kisses gave her one two and three
Saying weep no more my own true love
For I'm your long lost John Riley
Saying weep no more my own true love
For I'm your long lost John Riley