 Sea Shanties, Arrrg, ya scurvey dog |
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barddas  |
Posted: 23-Jun-2003, 07:38 AM
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Offical sacrifice to the guitar gods-Play til you bleed
Group: Celtic Nation
Posts: 2,030
Joined: 06-Nov-2002
Zodiac: Willow
Realm: second star to the right, straight until morning
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HAUL AWAY JOE
TRADITIONAL
When I was a little lad
And so my mother told me,
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe!
That if I did not kiss the gals
Me lips would all grow moldy.
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe!
Way, haul away, the good ship is a-bolding,
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe!
Way, haul away, the sheet is now a-flowing,
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe!
King Louis was the king of France
Before the revolution...
But then he got his head cut off
Which spoiled his constitution...
Oh, once I had a German gal
And she was fat and lazy...
And now I have a Brooklyn gal,
She damn near drives me crazy...
Way, haul away, I'll sing to you of Nancy...
Way, haul away, she's just my cut and fancy...
Way, haul away, we'll haul for better weather...
Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe
[SIZE=1][COLOR=purple]PLEASE NOTE: Because of the volunteer nature of The Minstrels gallery and Highlander Radio Forums, it is difficult to ensure proper attribution and copyright information for every song included. Please assume that any song which lists a composer is copyrighted ©. You MUST aquire proper license before using these songs for ANY commercial purpose. If you have any additional information or corrections to the credit or copyright information included, please e-mail those additions or corrections to us (along with the song title as indexed) so that we can update the database as soon as possible. Thank You.
This post has been edited by barddas on 23-Jun-2003, 07:48 AM
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BARDDAS BLOG/WEB SITECo Founder/Member of the KDCMusic is holy, art is sacred, and creativity is powerEveryday is EARTH DAY to a farmer "Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much." Oscar Wilde Some men are drawn to oceans, they cannot breathe unless the air is scented with a salty mist. Others are drawn to land that is flat, and the air is sullen and is leaden as August. My people were drawn to mountains- Earl Hamner Jr.
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| Jimmy Carbomb |
Posted: 29-Jun-2003, 09:40 PM
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Barleyjuice ~ "Pog Mo Tunes"Publishing
Group: Ireland
Posts: 495
Joined: 08-Mar-2003
Zodiac: Oak
Realm: On The Road
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EASILY, one of my favorites:
Irish Rover, The
Traditional
On the Fourth of July 1806 we set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks for the grand City Hall in New York
'twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged for and aft and oh, how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts, she had twenty-seven masts and they called her the Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags, we had two million barrels of stone
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides, we had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs, and six million dogs, seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny-goats' tails in the hold of the Irish Rover
There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute when the ladies lined up for a set
He was tootlin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille, though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his smart witty talk, he was cock of the walk and he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance that he sailed in the Irish Rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, there was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work and a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule and Fighting Bill Treacy from Dover
And your man, Mike McCann from the banks of the Bann was the skipper on the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost it's way in the fog
And that whale of a crew was reduced down to two, just meself and the Captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, Oh Lord! what a shock, the bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned and the last of the Irish Rover
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| Jimmy Carbomb |
Posted: 29-Jun-2003, 09:41 PM
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Barleyjuice ~ "Pog Mo Tunes"Publishing
Group: Ireland
Posts: 495
Joined: 08-Mar-2003
Zodiac: Oak
Realm: On The Road
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Mermaid, The
Traditional
It was Friday morn when we set sail and we were not far from the land
When our captain he spied a mermaid so fair, with a comb and a glass in her hand
And the ocean waves do roll, and the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below
Then up spoke the captain of our gallant ship, and a fine old man was he
"This fishy mermaid has warned me of our doom, we shall sink to the bottom of the sea"
And the ocean waves do roll, and the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below
Then up spoke the mate of our gallant ship, and a fine spoken man was he
Sayin', "I have a wife in Brooklyn by the sea, and tonight a widow she will be"
And the ocean waves do roll, and the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below
Then up spoke the cabin-boy of our gallant ship, and a brave young lad was he
"Oh, I have a sweetheart in Salem by the sea, and tonight she'll be weeping over me"
And the ocean waves do roll, and the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below
Then up spoke the cook of our gallant ship, and a crazy old butcher was he
"I care much more for my pots and pans than I do for the bottom of the sea"
And the ocean waves do roll, and the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below
Then three times 'round spun our gallant ship, and three times 'round spun she
Three times 'round spun our gallant ship and she sank to the bottom of the sea
And the ocean waves do roll, and the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below
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| barddas |
Posted: 14-Jul-2003, 02:53 PM
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Offical sacrifice to the guitar gods-Play til you bleed
Group: Celtic Nation
Posts: 2,030
Joined: 06-Nov-2002
Zodiac: Willow
Realm: second star to the right, straight until morning
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Trim Rigged Doxy
I am a sailor both brisk and bold
And a long time have I sailed the ocean
And if you want to know my name
My name it is Jack Johnson
Shipmates I'll bid you adieu
No more to sea will I go along with you
But to ramble this country through and through
And I'll be a ramblin' sailor
When I was a walking out one day
Down by the London River
A pretty little fair maid I chanced to spy
Now we walked along together
Her lips were like two roses red
A fine feather bonnet was covering her head
So I took the harboard on her, she said she was a maid
That saucy little trim-rigged doxy
I shan't and I can't go along with you
You saucy ramblin' sailor
My parents now they would not agree
And I'm promised to a tailor
But I was all too eager to sample all her charms
A dearest guinea to roll in your arms
Well the deal was done, up stairs we went
That's me and the trim-rigged doxy
Well it's all on the bone and let your stays'ls fall
We was yard after yard a boppin'
Me shot-locker empty, it's asleep I fall
Was then that she took to robbin'
She emptied all me pockets of all that I had
She even took the boots from the end of the bed
She even took the gold watch from underneath me head
`That saucy little trim-rigged doxy
Next mornin' bright I awoke
And I started to roar like thunder
For all of me money now, me gold watch too
She'd bore them away for plunder
'Twas not for me money, nor me gold watch too
For these had value, but to tell you true
To think a little fireball could burn me boxty through
That saucy little trim-rigged doxy
To think a little fireball could burn me boxty through
That saucy little trim-rigged doxy
[SIZE=1]PLEASE NOTE: Because of the volunteer nature of The Minstrels gallery and Highlander Radio Forums, it is difficult to ensure proper attribution and copyright information for every song included. Please assume that any song which lists a composer is copyrighted ©. You MUST aquire proper license before using these songs for ANY commercial purpose. If you have any additional information or corrections to the credit or copyright information included, please e-mail those additions or corrections to us (along with the song title as indexed) so that we can update the database as soon as possible. Thank You. [SIZE=1]
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| barddas |
 Posted: 11-Aug-2003, 12:34 PM
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Offical sacrifice to the guitar gods-Play til you bleed
Group: Celtic Nation
Posts: 2,030
Joined: 06-Nov-2002
Zodiac: Willow
Realm: second star to the right, straight until morning
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Here's new one I found...
The Liverpool Girls
Traditional - Lyrics from Capstan Bars, by David Bone
When I was a youngster I sailed with th' rest
On a Liverpool packet bound out to th' west.
We anchored a day in the harbour o' Cork,
Then put out to sea for th' port o' New York.
An' it's Ho! Ro! Ho, bullies, ho!
Th' Liverpool Gir-ils have got us in tow.
For thirty-two days we wos hungry an' sore.
Th' wind wos agin us an' gales they did roar;
But at Battery Point we did anchor at last,
Wit' th' jib-boom hove in an' th' canvas all fast.
Th' boardin' house masters was off in a trice,
An' shoutin' an' promisin' all that was nice;
An' one fat old crimp he got cotton to me,
An' said I wos foolish t' follow th' sea.
Ses he, "There's a job as is waitin' for you,
Wid lashins o' likker an' nothin' t' do.
Now, what d'ye say, lad, will you jump her too?"
Ses I, "Ye old beggar, I'm damned if I do!"
But th' best ov intentions they never goes far,
After thirty-two days, at th' door ov a bar.
I tossed off me likker an' what do ye think?
The dirty ould rascal had drugs in me drink.
Th' next I remimber, I woke in th' morn
In a three skysail yarder boun' south roun' th' Horn.
With an ould suit o' oilskins, an' two pair o' sox,
An' a floorin' o' bricks at th' foot av me box.
Now all ye young sailors take warnin' by me,
Keep watch on y'er drink when th' likker is free,
An' pay no attintion t' runner or whore,
When y'er hat's on y'er head an' y'er foot's on th' shore.
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| wyld piper |
 Posted: 11-Dec-2003, 05:56 PM
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Servant
Group: Celtic Nation
Posts: 29
Joined: 30-Nov-2003
Zodiac: Vine
Realm: South Mississippi
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I am a Sea Shanty Lover at heart and here are a few of my favs:
The Rocky Road to Dublin
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(Traditional Arr. Paddy Cecilly)
In the merry month of June from me home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam so sad and broken hearted,
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother,
Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born,
Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins;
Bought a pair of brogues rattling o'er the bogs
And fright'ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah !
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary, Started by daylight
next morning blithe and early, Took a drop of pure to keep me heartfrom sinking;
Thats a Paddy's cure whenever he's on drinking. See the lassies smile, laughing
all the while At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'
Asked me was I hired, wages I required, I was almost tired of the
rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah !
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it be a pity
To be soon deprived a view of that fine city.
So then I took a stroll, all among the quality;
Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality.
Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'
Enquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah !
From there I got away, me spirits never falling,
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing.
The Captain at me roared, said that no room had he;
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy.
Down among the pigs, played some hearty rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling;
When off Holyhead wished meself was dead,
Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah !
Well the bouys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it.
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing;
Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing.
"Hurrah me soul" says I, me Shillelagh I let fly.
Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in,
With a load "hurray !" joined in the affray.
We quitely cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack fol all the Ra !
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~~ Oglaigh Na hEireann ~~ In Memory - 13 Fallen, January 30, 1972
The heart may think it knows better, the senses know that absence blots people out. We really have no absent friends. The friend becomes a traitor by breaking, however unwillingly or sadly, out of our own zone: a hard judgment is passed on him, for all the pleas of the heart. ...........Elizabeth Bowen
Ever tried? Ever failed? No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better..............Samuel Beckett
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| wyld piper |
Posted: 11-Dec-2003, 06:00 PM
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Servant
Group: Celtic Nation
Posts: 29
Joined: 30-Nov-2003
Zodiac: Vine
Realm: South Mississippi
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MOLLY MALONE
In Dublin's fair city where girls are so pretty
Twas there that I first met sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow
Through street broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
Alive, alive oh, alive, alive oh,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
Now she was a fishmonger and sure twas no wonder
For so were her mother and father before
And they each wheeled their barrows
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
She died of a faver and no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
Now her ghost wheels her barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
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