He's Got The Whole World In His Hands

In these troubled times it’s reassuring to know that, He’s Got The Whole World In His Hands.
Lyrics:
He’s got the [G] whole world in His hands

He’s got the [D7} whole world in His hands

He’s got the [G] whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world [D7] in His [G] hands

He’s got the wind and the rain in His hands

He’s got the wind and the rain in His hands

He’s got the wind and the rain in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the Little Bitty Baby in His hands

He’s got the Little Bitty Baby in His hands

He’s got the Little Bitty Baby in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got you and me brother in His hands

He’s got you and me sister in His hands

He’s got you and me brother in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the earth and the sky in His hands

He’s got the earth and the sky in His hands

He’s got the earth and the sky in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the young and the old in His hands

He’s got the young and the old in His hands

He’s got the young and the old in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the rich and poor in His hands

He’s got the rich and poor in His hands

He’s got the rich and poor in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got everybody in His hands

He’s got everybody in His hands

He’s got everybody in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

He’s got the whole world in His hands

Squid-Jigging Ground

This squid catching song originated in Newfoundland, though the names of the places have changed due to the folk process.My wife Camilla and I love to taste and compare crispy calamari at restaurants around the world. She always asks “where do they get all this squid”? A fair question, considering the enormous amount of calamari consumed worldwide each day. I did some research to find out more about where squid come from and how to jig for squid. A preferred method of catching squid is trawling with a jig or lure. This method mimics a live lone prawn traveling through the water with an erratic movement, which creates a realistic impression of a terrified and panic ridden prey. It’s an easy effect to accomplish. Attach the lure to the end of the line using the usual method, and also attach a small weight near the swivel to keep the lure low in the water. Cast out as far as possible, and, depending on the water depth, begin reeling at a constant speed. Keep in mind you are trying to keep the prawn at a constant height of about two feet above the sea bed or sea grass, so time your reeling accordingly. Straight forward reeling won’t create a realistic effect of a panicky prawn, so occasionally sharply draw the rod upward, so the prawn shoots forward toward the surface of the water by about three feet. Then slack off reeling until the prawn reaches the depth at which it was previously traveling. Repeat randomly during reeling, but not too frequently or the squid will lose interest. Note that the squid will usually strike when the jig is falling back to its previous depth. This is due to the reduced speed and less threatening composure of the prawn. If you see squid following the lure when drawing in line close, on the next cast, trawl more slowly than before, as a not so hungry squid will not take a chance on a fast moving piece of prey, easier prey is more appealing. Don’t reel in too fast or you’ll just get a squid leg and not the whole squid. Pink lures work the best. Be careful when taking the squid out of the water, they bite, and have lots of black ink that they squirt to conceal themselves while under water. Using a net to take them off the lure is the safest way to insure that you won’t lose the squid.
Lyrics:
[D] Oh, this is the place where the fishermen gather,With [G] oilskins and [D] boots and Cape Anns [Em] battened down;

[G] All sizes and figures with [D] squid lines and jiggers,

They congregate here on the [A] squid-jigging [D] ground.

Some are workin’ their jiggers while others are yarnin’,

There’s some standin’ up and there’s more lyin’ down;

While all kinds of fun, jokes and tricks are begun

As they wait for the squid on the squid-jiggin’ ground.

There’s men from Bar Harbour and men from the Tickle,

In all kinds of motorboats, green, grey and brown;

There’s a red headed Tory out here in a dory

Running down Squires on the squid-jiggin’ ground.

The man with the whiskers is old Jacob Steele;

He’s gettin well up but he’s still pretty sound.

While Uncle Bob Hawkins wears three pair o’ stockin’s

Whenever he’s out on the squid-jiggin’ ground.

God bless my sou’wester, there’s Skipper John Cheeby,

He’s the best hand at squid-jiggin’ here, I’ll be bound.

Hello! What’s the row? He’s jiggin’ one now,

The very first squid on the squid-jiggin’ ground.

Holy smoke! What a bustle! All hands are excited.

It’s a wonder to me that nobody is drowned.

There’s a bustle, confusion, a wonderful hustle,

They’re all jiggin’ squid on the squid-jiggin’ ground.

There’s poor Uncle Billy, his whiskers are spattered

With spots of the squid juice that’s flying around;

One poor little boy got it right in the eye,

But they don’t give a hang on the squid-jiggin’ ground.

Says Bobby, “The squid are on top of the water,

I just got me jigger ’bout one fathom down” —

When a squid in the boat squirted right down his throat,

And he’s swearin’ like mad on the squid-jiggin’ ground.

If you ever feel inclined to go squiddin’,

Leave your white shirts and collars behind in the town.

And if you get cranky without your silk hanky

You’d better steer clear of the squid-jiggin’ ground.

Oh, this is the place where the fishermen gather,

With oilskins and boots and Cape Anns battened down;

All sizes and figures with squid lines and jiggers,

They congregate here on the squid-jigging ground.

12 Gates To The City

This is an old southern spiritual, inspired by the Bible’s Revelation chapter 21.

Revelation 21 – King James Version ( Public Domain)

Lyrics:
[Em] Oh, what a beautiful city.
[B7] Oh, what a beautiful city
[Em] Oh, what a beautiful city
[Em] Twelve gates to the city, [B7] – [[Em] Hallelujah

Three gates in the east,
Three gates in the west,
Three gates in the north
Three gates in the south
[Em] Twelve gates to the city, [B7] – [[Em] Hallelujah

Who are those children dressed in red?
There’s twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah
Must be the children that Moses led
There’s twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah

My Jesus done just what He said
There’s twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah
He healed the sick and He raised the dead.
There’s twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah

Wild Mountain Thyme

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Back in Greenwich Village, in 1963, I experimented by putting this song to a rock beat. The result was the folk rock sound of the Byrds. Now, I thought it would be fun to try this traditional Scottish love song. with a reggae beat.
Lyrics:
[G] O the summer time is coming
And the [C] trees are sweetly [G] turning
And [C] wild mountain [Am] thyme
Blooms [C] around the purple heather
Will ye [G] go, [C] lassie, [G] go?

If you will not go with me
I will surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the purple heather
Will you go lassie go?

Chorus:
And we’ll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the purple heather
Will ye go, lassie, go?

I will build my love a bower
By yon clear and crystal fountain
And on it I will place
All the flowers of the mountain
Will ye go, lassie, go?

Chorus:
And we’ll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the purple heather
Will ye go, lassie, go?

Pretty Saro

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This song was collected in the Asheville area of North Carolina and the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia around 1930 by Dorothy Scarborough. She included it in her book ‘A Song Catcher in Southern Mountains, American Folk Songs of British Ancestry.’ This is an excerpt from her text:

‘Mrs. Stikeleather also sang it (Pretty Saro) into my dictaphone and contributed it to this collection. She told me that while the date ‘eighteen forty-nine’ is used in some of the versions of the song, ‘seventeen forty-nine’ is more probably correct, as that year witnessed considerable immigration to North Carolina from Ireland, and Scotland, and this old English song was no doubt adapted to its new setting at that time.’ Scarborough later says that the use of the phrase ‘free-holder’ indicates the song is of British origin.

Lyrics:
[A] When I first come to this [E] country in [A] seventeen-forty-nine,

I saw many fair [E] lovers, but never saw [E] mine.

I looked all [A] around me, and found I was [E] alone.

Me a poor [D] stranger, and a long way from [E] home.

Down in some lonesome valley, down in some lonesome place,

Where the wild birds do whistle their notes to increase,

I think of pretty Saro whose waist is so neat

And I know of no better pastime than to be with my sweet.

My love she won’t have me, so I understand

She wants a free-holder, who owns house and land.

I cannot maintain her with silver and gold,

Nor buy all the fine things that a big house can hold.

I wish I was a poet and could write a fine hand.

I would send my love a letter that she could understand.

And I’d send it by a messenger where the waters do flow.

And think of pretty Saro wherever I go.

When I first come to this country in seventeen-forty-nine,

I saw many fair lovers, but never saw mine.

I looked all around me, and found I was alone.

Me a poor stranger, and a long way from home.

St. James Infirmary

One of the great blues from New Orleans, originally ‘Gambler’s Blues.’
Lyrics:
[Em] I went down to [Am] St. James [Em] Infirmary.
[Em] I saw my [C] baby [B7] there.
[Em] Lying on a [Am] long white table,
[C] So sweet, [B7] so cold, [Em] so fair.

I went up to see the doctor.
‘She’s very low,’ he said.
I went back to see my baby
And great god she was lying there dead.

I went down to Old Joe’s Bar-room.
Down on the corner by the square.
They were serving drinks as usual.
And the usual crowd was there.

On my left stood Joe MacKennedy.
His eyes were blood-shot red.
He turned to the crowd around him
And these are the words that he said.

Let her go, let her go, God bless her.
Wherever she may be.
She may search this wide world over
But she’ll never find another man like me.

When I die please bury me
In a high top stetson hat.
Put a gold piece on my watch chain.
So the boys will know I died standing pat.

Get six gamblers to carry my coffin.
Six chorus girls to sing my song.
Put a jazz band on my tailgate
To raise hell as we roll along.

This is the end of my story.
So let’s have another round of booze.
And if any one should ask you just tell them
I’ve got the St. James Infirmary Blues.

When the Saints Go Marching In

Lyrics:
[G] I am just a lonesome [C] traveller,
[G] Through this big wide world of [D] sin;
[G] Want to join that grand [C] procession,
When the [G] saints go [D] marchin'[G] in.

Oh when the [G] saints go marchin’in,Oh when the [G] saints go marchin'[D] in,
[G] Lord I want to be in that [C] number
When the [G] saints go [D] marchin’ [G] in.

All my folks have gone before me,
All my friends and all my kin;
But I’ll meet with them up yonder,
When the saints go marchin’in.

|: Oh when the saints go marchin’in, 😐
Lord I want to be in that number,
When the saints go marchin’in.

Come and join me in my journey,
’cause it’s time that we begin;
And we’ll be there for that judgement,
When the saints go marchin’in.

|: Oh when the saints go marchin’in, 😐
We will be in line for that judgement,
When the saints go marchin’in.

|: And when the stars begin to shine 😐
Then Lord let me be in that number
And when the stars begin to shine

|: When Gabriel blows in his horn 😐
Then Lord let me be in that number
When Gabriel blows in his horn

|: And when the sun refuse to shine 😐
Then Lord let me be in that number
When the sun refuse to shine

|: And when the moon has turned to blood 😐
Then Lord let me be in that number
When the moon has turned to blood

|: And when they crown Him King of Kings 😐
Then Lord let me be in that number
When they crown Him King of Kings

Away In A Manger

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Verses 1 & 2, were written by an anonymous author, Some sources show the author as Martin Luther; this attribution (probably incorrect) is based on the title 'Luther's Cradle Hymn,' given to these words by the composer, James Murray. Verse 3 is by John Thomas McFarland (1851-1913).

Thanks to Richard W. Adams for doing this research.

'Mueller,' James R. Murray, 1887

Lyrics:
[G] Away in a manger, no [C] crib for a [G] bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet [D] head.
The [G] stars in the sky looked [C] down where He [G] lay,
The [G] little Lord Jesus, [D] asleep on the [G] hay.

The cattle are lowing, the Baby awakes,
But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes;
I love Thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky
And stay by my cradle til morning is nigh.

Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me, I pray;
Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care,
And take us to heaven to live with Thee there.

I Am A Pilgram

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This is an old spiritual, sung by numerous country artists. It has a good melody and is a good picking song. I thought of it in conjunction with Thanksgiving, as it was the Pilgrims who started it all. Happy Thanksgiving 2002!
Lyrics:
[G] I am a [D] pilgrim an’ a [G] strangerTraveling [C] through this wearsome [G] land

I’ve got a home, in yonder [C] city good Lord [C7],

[G] And it’s not not [D] made by [G] hand

I’ve got a mother, sister and a brother
Who have been this way before
I am determined to go and see them, good Lord
Over on that other shore

I going down to the river of Jordan
Just to bathe my wearsome soul
If I can just touch the hem of his garmet, good Lord
Then I know he’d take me home

I am a pilgrim and a stranger
Travelling through this wearsome land
I’ve got a home in that yonder city, good Lord
And it’s not not made by hand

Wildwood Flower

Wildwood.jpg

This is a nineteenth-century North American parlor song that has gone into the public domain. There are many variants, some quite amusing when compared to this version. For instance the line:

I will dance I will sing and my life shall be gay

I will charm every heart in the crowd I survey has been changed to:

Oh, I'll dance, I will sing and my laugh shall be gay

I will charm ev'ry heart, in his crown I will sway

Clearly a misunderstood line, passed along by the oral tradition. This is a fine example of the folk process.

This song was written by Maud and J.P. Weber, and popularized by the Carter Family. Another great Guitar picking song. This is the first song I've recorded with my new Martin HD28V that Dick Boak at Martin Guitars helped me pick out at the factory.

Lyrics:
[D] I will twine with my mingles of [A] raven [D] black hair

With the roses so red and the [A] lilies [D] so fair

The myrtle so bright in its [G] emerald [D] hue

And the pale amaryllis and [A] violets so [D] blue

Oh he promised to love me and promised to love

And cherish me over all others above

I woke from my dream and my idol was clay

And my portion of loving had all passed away

I will dance I will sing and my life shall be gay

I will charm every heart in the crowd I survey

Though my heart now is breaking he shall never know

How his name makes me tremble my pale cheeks to glow

Oh he taught me to love him and called me his flower

A blossom to cheer him through life’s weary hour

But now he is gone and left me alone

With the wild flowers to weep and the wild birds to moan

Yes I’ll dance and I’ll sing and my life shall be gay

I will banish this weeping, drive troubles away

I’ll live yet to see him regret that dark hour

When he won and neglected his frail wildwood flower