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Farewell to Ansteorra Page 1 SONG Music - Farewell to Nova Scotia Words - Alaric ap Morgan Chorus |--------------------------------------------------| | Farewell to Ansteorra, that sun-blessed land! | | Let your hamlets bright and cheery be! | | When I am far away, over mighty mountains tall, | | Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me. | |--------------------------------------------------| I hate to leave my native home, I loathe to leave my comrades all. But I must hie away over hill and plain, For my captain calls, and I must obey. CHORUS My own true love did bid me stay, She would not part our company, But honour calls "To horse and away!" For no slight shall mar our Kingdom free. CHORUS Red war does cry on every side Our swords are broken, bent or dulled But Ansteorra stands as a shield in the sun, And Honour and Glory shall e'er be our pride. CHORUS (Slowly) I lay me down this night to die My wounds are grievous, I've greatly bled, But Ansteorra's life means more than mine, For Love and Beauty must ne'er wash away. CHORUS (slowly and wistfully) (Optional, CHORUS, with excitement! ) Circles Page 2 By: Gwen Zak, probably in mid 1970's. SONG Tune: Windmills In days gone by, when the world was much younger Men wondered at spring, born of winter's gold knife Wondered at the games of the moon and sunlight, They saw there the Lady and Lord of all life. CHORUS |------------------------------------------------------------- | And around and around and around turns the good earth | | All things must change as the seasons go by, | | We are the children of the Lord and the Lady, | | Whose mysteries we know but we'll never know why. | |------------------------------------------------------------| In all lands the people were tied with the good earth Plowing and sowing as the seasons declared Waiting to reap of the rich golden harvest Knowing Her laugh in the joys that they shared. CHORUS Through Flanders and Wales and the green land of Ireland In Kingdoms of England and Scotland and Spain Circles grew up all along the wild coastline And worked for the land with the sun and the rain. CHORUS Circles for healing and working the weather Circles for knowing the moon and the sun Circles for thanking the Lord and the Lady Circles for dancing the dance never done CHORUS And we who reach for the stars in the heavens Turning our eyes from the meadows and groves Still live in the love of the Lord and the Lady The greater the Circle the more the love grows CHORUS (two times) Page 3 SONG The Rising of the Star Tune: The Rising Of The Moon Oh, now tell me folk in Atenveldt, now have ye heard it said, That the sun upon your banner has now turned to bloody red? We're comin' from the Southlands, ye don't know who we are. We're the folk from Ansteorra by the rising of the Star! Oh, now many a foe has tried us, on many a bloody field, But precious few have killed us, because we never yield. We've got powder for our cannons, grape shot, and boilin' tar. We're your friends from Ansteorra by the rising of the star! Now, the Ansteorran summers are seven months in length. The rivers lose their waters and the fighters lose their strength. With swooning in the tourney, and fainting in the war, We long for cool November by the rising of the Star! Now, the Ansteorran ladies will make ye lovely wives, But check their skirts and bodices, they always carry knives! They say this iron-mongery their beauty will not mar, They'll thrill you or they'll kill you by the rising of the Star! Oh, the Ansteorran children are ever so polite, Don't turn your backs upon them 'cause the little buggers bite! Their cunning none surpasses, you know that they'll go far, They're the heirs of Ansteorra, by the rising of the Star! Now, the bards of Ansteorra are very long of wind, Their verses have no rhythm and their stories never end. A tune they cannot carry in a bucket or a jar, But they'll revel until daylight and the rising of the Star! Oh, we're just psychotic killers, we like to maim and gunch, Don't pack us any baskets, we'll just eat your dead for lunch! We're brothers of the Normans and daughters of the Czars, We're your friends from Ansteorra by the rising of the Star! ( I have seen this printed in many place. Only one gives credit for the words, so I'm not sure if it is correct. The name is Balthazar of Endo. ) Page 4 Men of the Picts By Rudyard Kipling SONG Rome never heeds where she treads. Always the heavy hooves fall On our stomachs, our hearts and our heads. And Rome never heeds when we bawl. The sentries pass on, that is all. And we gather behind them in hordes, And plot to reconquer the Wall With only our tongues for our swords. We are the little folk, we. Too little to love or to hate. But leave us alone and you'll see Just how we can drag down the State. We are the worm in the wood, We are the rot at the root, We are the taint in the blood, We are the thorn in the foot! Mistletoe choking an oak, Rats gnawing cables in two, Moths making holes in a cloak, How they must love what they do. Yes, and we little folk too! We are as busy as they, Working our works out of view. But watch, and you'll see them someday. No, indeed we are not strong. But we know people who are! And we, we will guide them along To crush and destroy you in war. Yes, we have always been slaves, And, yes, we will still be their slaves. But you, you will die of the shame. And then we will dance on your graves. ( finish quietly, whispering the last line. ) We are the little folk, we. Too little to love or to hate. But leave us alone and you'll see Just watch as we drag down the State. Three Jolly Coachmen Page 5 SONG Three jolly coachmen Sat at an english Tavern Three jolly coachmen Sat at an english Tavern And they decided, And they decided, And they decided, To have another flagon. CHORUS |------------------------------------| | Landlord fill the flowing bowl | | 'Til it doth run over. | | Landlord fill the flowing bowl | | 'Til it doth run over. | | | | For tonight 'tis merry I'll be, | | For tonight 'tis merry I'll be, | | For tonight 'tis merry I'll be, | | Tomorrow I'll be sober. | |------------------------------------| Here's to the man who drinks dark ale, And goes to bed quite mellow. Here's to the man who drinks dark ale, And goes to bed quite mellow. Lives as he ought to live, Lives as he ought to live, Lives as he ought to live, And dies a jolly fellow. CHORUS Here's to the man who drinks light ale, and goes to bed quite sober. ... Falls as the leaves do fall, ... He'll die before October. CHORUS Here's to the maid who steals a kiss, And runs to tell her mother. ... Does a very foolish thing. ... For she'll not get another. CHORUS (Continued) Page 6 Three Jolly Coachmen ( continued ) SONG Here's to the maid who steals a kiss, and stays to steal another. ... She's a boon to all mankind. ... For soon she'll be a mother. CHORUS Here's to the lad who steals a kiss, and runs to tell his brother. ... Does a very foolish thing, ... For brother gets another. CHORUS Bonnie Bonnie Banks of the Virgio Page 7 SONG Three sisters walked out one fine day, All the lee and the lonely-o, Met a robber on the way, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. He took the first one by the hand, All the lee and the lonely-o, He whipped her 'round and he made her stand, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. Oh, will you be a robber's wife, All the lee and the lonely-o, Or will you die by my pen-knife, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. Oh, I'll not be a robber's wife, All the lee and the lonely-o, And so I'll die by your pen-knife, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. And so he took his wee pen-knife, All the lee and the lonely-o, And there he took her own dear life, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. (- Repeat for second sister. -) (- Then, repeat for Third, until her answer, which is below. -) Oh, I'll not be a robber's wife, All the lee and the lonely-o, And I'll not die by your pen-knife. On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. For you have killed my sisters dear, All the lee and the lonely-o, You wouldna' have done that if me brother was here, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. Oh, tell me what does your brother do, All the lee and the lonely-o, Why, he's a robber just like you. On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. Oh, my God, what have I done, All the lee and the lonely-o, I've killed my sisters, all save one, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. And so he took his wee pen-knife, All the lee and the lonely-o, And there he took his own dear life, On the bonnie, bonnie banks of the Virgio. Page 8 SONG Lusty Young Smith (This is the version common in Ansteorra.) A lusty young smith at his vice stood a-filing. His hammer lay by but his forge still a-glowed. When to him a buxom young damsel came smiling, And asked if to work, in her forge, he would go. CHORUS |-----------------------------------------------------| | With a jingle bang jingle bang jingle bang jingle. | | With a jingle bang jingle bang jingle high ho. | |-----------------------------------------------------| I will, said the smith, and they went off together, Unto the young damsel's forge they did go. They stripped to go to it, 'twas hot work and hot weather. She kindled the fire and she soon made him glow. CHORUS Her husband, she said, no good work could afford her. His strength and his tools were worn out long ago. The smith said, Well, mine are in very good order, And I am now ready my skill for to show. CHORUS Red hot grew his iron, as both did desire, And he was too wise not to strike while 'twas so. She said, What I get I get out of the fire, So prithee, strike home and redouble the blow. CHORUS Six times did his iron, by vigorous heating, Grow soft in her forge in a minute or so, And ere it were hard and yet heating and beating, But the more it were soft, it did harden more slow. CHORUS The smith then would go, left the maid full of sorrow. Oh, what would I give could my husband do so. Good lad with your hammer come hither tomorrow, And pray won't you use it once more ere you go! CHORUS Page 9 SONG Lusty Young Smith This version I found in "Bawdy Verse, A Pleasant Collection." (ante 1700.) A lusty young smith at his vice stood a-filing. Rub, rub, rub, rub, rub, rub in and out, in and out ho! When to him a buxom young damsel came smiling, And asked if to work at her forge, he would go. With a rub rub rub rub rub, rub in and out In and out, ho! "A match" quoth the Smith, so they went away thither. Rub, rub, rub, rub, rub, rub in and out, in and out ho! They stripped to go to it, 'twas hot Work and hot Weather. She kindled a Fire and soon made him blow. With a rub rub rub rub rub, rub in and out In and out, ho! Her husband, she said, could scarce raise up his Hammer, His strength and his Tools were worn out long ago. If she got her Journeymen, could any blame her? "Look here!" quoth our Workman, "my Tools are not so." With a rub rub rub rub rub, rub in and out In and out, ho! Red-hot grew his Iron, as both did desire, And he was too wise not to strike while 'twas so. Quoth she "What I get, I get out of the Fire, So prithee strike Home and redouble the blow!" With a rub rub rub rub rub, rub in and out In and out, ho! Six times, did his Iron, by vigorous heating Grow soft in the Forge in a minute or so; As often 'twas hardened, still beating and beating, But the more it was softened, it hardened more slow. With a rub rub rub rub rub, rub in and out In and out, ho! The Smith would then go. Quoth the Dame, full of sorrow "O! What would I give could my Cuckold do so! Good Lad, with your Hammer, come hither tomorrow; But pray! can't you use it once more ere you go?" With a rub rub rub rub rub, rub in and out In and out, ho! Do Virgins Taste Better (Also known as - An Old Cliche Revisited) Page 10 Words by: R. Farran Tune: The Irish Washerwoman SONG A dragon has come to our village today. We've asked him to leave, but he won't go away. Now he's talked to our king and they worked out a deal. No homes will he burn and no crops will he steal. Now there is but one catch, we dislike it a bunch. Twice a year he invites him a virgin to lunch. Well, we've no other choice, so the deal we'll respect. But we can't help but wonder and pause to reflect. Do virgins taste better than those who are not? Are they salty, or sweeter, more juicy or what? Do you savor them slowly? Gulp them down on the spot? Do virgins taste better than those who are not? Now we'd like to be shed you, and many have tried. But no one can get thru your thick scaly hide. We hope that some day, some brave knight will come by. 'Cause we can't wait around 'til you're too fat to fly. Now you have such good taste in your women for sure, They always are pretty, they always are pure. But your notion of dining, it makes us all flinch, For your favorite entree is barbecued wench. CHORUS Now we've found a solution, it works out so neat, If you insist on nothing but virgins to eat. No more will our number ever grow small, We'll simply make sure there's no virgins at all! CHORUS The Wild Rover Page 11 SONG I've been a wild rover for many a year, And I've spent all my money on whiskey and beer, But now I'm returning with gold in great store, And I never will play the wild rover no more. CHORUS |----------------------------------------------------| | And it's no, nay, never. No, nay, never, no more, | | Will I play the rover. No never, no more. | |----------------------------------------------------| I went to an ale house I used to frequent, And I told the landlady my money was spent. I asked her for credit, she answered me nay. Such custom like yours I could have any day. CHORUS I took from my pocket ten sovereigns bright, And the landlady's eyes opened wide with delight, She said, "I have whiskeys and wines of the best, And I'll take you upstairs, and I'll show you the rest." CHORUS I'll go home to my parents, confess what I've done, And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son. And if they caress me as oft times before, I never will play the wild rover no more! CHORUS I'm a Rover Traditional. Page 12 Also titled: A Health To All True-Lovers SONG CHORUS |---------------------------------| | I'm a rover, seldom sober. | | I'm a rover of high degree. | | It's when I'm drinking, | | I'm always thinking, | | How to gain my love's company. | |---------------------------------| 'Tis many a night I'm going to ramble, 'Tis many a night I'm going to roam. 'Tis many a night I'm going to ramble Into the arms of my own true love. CHORUS O, though the night be as dark as dungeon, Still a star be seen above, I shall be guided without a stumble, Into the arms of my own true love. CHORUS I stepped up to her bedroom window. I tapped softly upon the pane, I whispered through her bedroom window, "My darlin' dear, do you lie alone?" CHORUS She raised her head from her downsoft pillow, Weaved her arms about her breast, Says "What is that at my bedroom window, Disturbing me at my long night's rest?" CHORUS Says I, "My darling, it's thy true lover, Open the door and let me in. For I have come on this long night's journey, For to be in thy arms again." CHORUS She opened the door with the greatest pleasure, Opened the door, and let me in. And we touched hands and embraced each other, Until the mornin' we lay as one. CHORUS Says I "My darlin', I must leave you, To climb the hills, they're far above, But I shall climb with the greatest pleasure, I've been in the arms of my own true love. CHORUS Page 13 Woad of Harlech SONG What's the use of wearing braces, Hats, or spats, or shoes with laces, Vests and pants you buy in places, Down on Broughampton Road? What's the use of shirts of cotton, Studs that always get forgotten, These affairs are simply rotten! Better far is woad! Woad's the stuff to show men, Woad to scare your foemen! Boil it to a brilliant blue And rub it on your legs and your abdomen! Ancient Britons never hit on Anything as good as woad to fit on Necks or knees or where you sit on, Tailors, you'd be blowed! Romans came across the Channel All dressed up in tin and flannel; Half a pint of woad per man-o Clothed us more than these! Saxons, you may save your stitches Building beds for bugs in britches. We have woad to clothe us which is Not a nest for fleas. Romans, keep your armors, Saxons, your pajamas! Hairy coats were made for goats, Gorillas, yaks, retriever dogs, and llamas! March on, Snowdon, with your woad on, Never mind if you get rained or snowed on. Never need a button sewed on, Good for us today! Page 14 Karelia's Song By Iolo Fitz Owen SONG Oh, the Baron of Eastmarch's fair sorcerous daughter Was enamored unseemly with the fool of her lord. Though her duke was deemed handsome he'd a soul vain and petty, And a dark mind as empty as last summer's gourd. Now the fool, he was clever and he sang for the lady, Like a nightingale piping in a green forest hall, But his station was lowly and his body was aging, And their love was as hopeless as if he were stone. So the lady has led them, the fool and her husband, To her cool, secret garden by the Midsummer's moon, And she's danced them a spell there of shifting and changing, And left them dumbfounded by sorcery's boon. She has left the fool crying to the gods of his fathers, She has led her duke laughing to her high chamber door, And shes kept him there softly through two day's bright dawnings, While her servants all gossiped in wonder and awe. Now the fool died in madness, saying he was ensorceled, And the duke only smiled him a sad, secret smile. Now the duke rules his people with wit and good humor And he sings for his lady like the nightingale's song. And she's borne him five children, two sons and three daughters, And they've grown straight and handsome, and sorcerers all, And they dance in the garden and sing in the moonlight, Like a nightingale piping in a green forest hall. Page 15 SONG Iolo's Song By Brendan O' Corraidhe Down in Bryn Gwlad town lives a jolly old fellow Whose figure is really a comical sight. Oh, his forehead is bald and his eyes will amaze you, And his gold-covered codpiece is really quite bright. Well, he wears baggy pants and a ragged old tunic, His shoes give his tootsies a room with a view. And he acts very silly, and he does antler dances, And answers when summoned by the name, "Master Moo". Now his real name is Iolo, Don Iolo Fitz Owen. His White Scarf and Laurel are both well deserved, For he'll build you a crossbow like those in museums, Or thrash you at swashbuckling without reserve. He's a shaper of wood, and of bone, and of leather, A shaper of hearts with a word to the wise. He has carved standing stones to remember the fallen, And he'll sing you a song to bring tears to your eyes. Oh, the Great Selkie's bride and a cruel lass named Jennie, Karelia's lover and Myrddyn's gay flute, And the old standing stones and a host of Welsh heroes Spring once more to life when he picks up his lute. He's a craftsman, composer, a fool and a fighter, A good friend to many, he'll come when you call, And he'll dance in the garden and sing in the moonlight, Like a nightingale piping in a green forest hall. Page 16 SONG Bare Is the Brotherless Back A song for Calontir and Ansteorra Tune: "The Nancy" from Stan Rogers' From Fresh Water I sing here of a brotherhood as sharp as any spear, As bright as the falcon that soars o'er the glorious lands of Calontir, As strong as the lion's heart that roars in the land of the Sable Star, Of two great sovereign kingdoms side by side in every war. For when there are fair ground to take, and enemies in the way, 'Tis best to call the falcons all, and the Black Star banner, hey! And though the foes do fill the field, there's none can bar the way, For the falcon's scream and the lion's roar will always win the day! CHORUS |-----------------------------------------------------------| | Vivat the Black Star! Hurrah for Calontir and Ansteorra! | | The lion and the falcon stand together o'er the foe! | |-----------------------------------------------------------| ( Pennsic XIII ) When called to war out in the East, the falcon she did fly And answered on the dragon's call, "To war, or else to die," The falcon called upon her kin, the lion of the Star, And side by side they fought, and sealed a brotherhood of war. For when there are fair grounds to take, and tygers in the way, 'Tis best to call on the falcon's wall and the Black Star banner, hey! And though outnumbered six to one, there's none can bar the way For the falcon's scream and the lion's roar will always save the day! CHORUS ( continued ) Page 17 SONG Bare Is the Brotherless Back (continued) ( Atenvelt War ) When calls of war came from the South, and reached the falcon's ears, She flew unto the lion's aid and faced the Aten spears. Down in a ditch, and on a road, and in a field of hay These brothers fed Mother Atenvelt's dead to the ravens there that day! For when your homelands are at stake, and the sun stands in the way, 'Tis best to call the falcons all, and the Black Star banner, hey! And though the foes do fill the field, there's none can bar the way, For the falcon's scream and the lion's roar will always win the day! CHORUS ( Pennsic XIV ) More calls of battle from the East, brought us to another war. We fought in the woods, and we fought on the bridges, as we did the year before. The best of the tygers fell to our blows in the bloodiest of the fray, And once again, the Dragon was saved by the lion and the falcon that day! For when there are fair grounds to take, and Tygers in the way, 'Tis best to call on the purple wall and the Black Star banner, hey! And though outnumbered ten to one, there's none can bar the way For the falcon's scream and the lion's roar will always save the day! CHORUS I sing here of a brotherhood as sharp as any spear, As bright as the falcon that soars o'er the glorious lands of Calontir, As strong as the lion's heart that roars in the land of the Sable Star, For bare is the brotherless back is the way that we always win the war! Vivat the Black Star! Hurrah for Calontir and Ansteorra! The lion and the falcon stand together o'er the foe! Vivat the Black Star! Hurrah for Calontir and Ansteorra! For bare is the brotherless back is the way that we always win the war! Page 18 SONG Green Grow the Rashes, Oh! Found in Folk Songs By Master Composers. There's naught but care on ev'ry han', In every hour that passes, O; What signifies the life o' man If it were not for the lasses, O? CHORUS Green grow the rashes, O! Green grow the rashes, O! The sweetest hour that ever I spend, Are spent among the lasses, O! The worldly race may riches chase, And riches still may fly them, O; And though at last they catch them fast, Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O. CHORUS But gie me a quiet hour at even, My arms around my dearie, O; An' worldly cares, and worldly men, May all go topsy-turvy, O; CHORUS For you sober fool, ye sneer at this, Ye're naught but senseless asses, O; The wisest man the worl' saw He dearly loved the lasses, O! CHORUS Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O: Her 'prentice hand she tried on man, An then she made the lasses, O. CHORUS The Ball of Ballinour Page 19 SONG The Queen was in the parlor, Eating bread and honey. The King was in the chambermaid And she was in the money. CHORUS |-----------------------------------| | Balls to your partner, | | Ass against the wall. | | If you cannot get ------ | | on a Saturday night, | | you cannot get ----- at all. | |-----------------------------------| Four and twenty virgins Came down from Inverness And when the ball was over There were four and twenty less. CHORUS There was doin' in the kitchen, And doin' it on the stones. Ya couldna' hear the music For the wheezin' and the groans. CHORUS The village butcher, he was there, A cleaver in his hand. And everytime he turned around, He circumcised the band. CHORUS The deacon's wife, well, she was there With her butt against the wall. "Put your money on the table, boys, 'Cause I'm going to do you all." CHORUS The letter carrier, he was there. The poor man had the pox. He couldn't do the ladies, So he did the letter box. CHORUS The village cripple he was there, Can you imagine that? Amusing himself by abusing himself, And catching it in his hat. CHORUS The bride was in the bedroom Talking to the groom. "The front! The front! And not the back, Is the entrance to the womb!" CHORUS When the ball was over Everyone confessed, "The doin' was exquisite, But the doin' was the best!" CHORUS Page 20 FILK The Gentry Are Sleeping (Also called The Hospitaller's Song ) (Tune: "When Johnny Comes Marching Home") (As you might expect, people often modify the verses to this one. It lends itself well for that.) The Gentry are sleeping One by One, Oyez... Oyez..., The Gentry are sleeping One by One, Oyez... Oyez..., The Gentry are sleeping One by One, And no one is having very much fun, And The Gentry are sleeping anywhere they can. Two by two... It's a terribly period thing to do. Three by three I think that's MY hand on my knee! Four by four On the furniture, on the floor. Five by five With everybody except their wives. Six by six With (insert name) up to (his/her) usual tricks. Seven by seven I think I've died and gone to heaven. Eight by eight Hurry up (insert name) or you'll be late. Nine by nine I don't know why, it must be the wine. Ten by ten No one's asleep and it's morning again. Page 21 SONG Black Widows in the Privy Lyrics and Music by Heather Jones From the tape Horse Tamer's Daughter Centaur Publications PO Box 424 El Cerrito, CA 94530 Everyone knows someone we'd be better off without, But best not mention names, for we know not who's about. But why commit a murder, and risk the fires of hell, When black widows in the privy can do it just as well. Now, poison's good, and daggers, and arrows in the back, And if you're really desprate, you can try a front attack. But are they really worthy of the risk of being caught When black widows in the privy need not be bribed or bought? So, if there's one of whom wish most simply to be rid, Just wait 'til dark, then point the way to where the widows hid, And say to them, "I think you'll find that this one is the best," And black widows in the privy will gladly do the rest. MacIntyre Page 22 SONG Some friends and I in a public house Was playin' Dominoes one night When into the room a fireman came, his face all chalky-white. "What's up?" says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost? Have you seen your Aunt Mariah?" "Oh me Aunt Mariah be bugged," says he, "The bleedin' pub's on fire!" "Oh," says Brown, "What a bit o' luck, everybody follow me. It's down to the cellar, if the fire's not there, Oh, we'll have a grand old spree." So we all went down with good old Brown And the booze we could not miss We hadn't been there ten minutes or more 'Til we were quite like this ---- CHORUS |-----------------------------------------------------| | Aaaaaaaaaaand... | | There was Brown, upside down, | | A moppin' up the whiskey on the floor | | "Booze, booze!", the fireman cried | | as they come a-knockin' at the door. (thump thump) | | "Oh, don't let 'em in 'til it's all mopped up." | | Somebody shouted "MacIntyre!" | | And we all got blue-blind, paralytic drunk, | | When the Old Dun Cow caught fire. | |-----------------------------------------------------| Then Smith run over to the portwine tub And gave it a few hard knocks (Thump thump) Started takin' off his pantaloons, likewise his shoes and socks. "Hold on," says Brown, "That ain't allowed. You can't do that there here. Don't go washin' your trotters in the portwine tub When we got Guinness's beer!" CHORUS And then there came a mighty crash, Half the bloody roof caved in. We was drowned in the firemen's hose, Though we were almost .... happy. So we got some tacks and old wet sacks, And we tacked ourselves inside. And we sat there getting bleary-eyed drunk When the Old Dun Cow caught fire. Page 23 SONG Song of the Shield Wall Words: Malkin Grey Music: Peregryn Wyndryder Hasten, oh, sea steed, over the swan road, Foamy-necked ships o'er the froth of the sea! Hengest has called us from Gotland and Frisia To Vortigern's country, his army to be. We'll take our pay there in sweeter than silver, We'll take our plunder in richer than gold, For Hengest has promised us land for our fighting, Land for the sons of the Saxons to hold! Hasten, oh, fyrds-men, down to the river, Dragon-necked ships on the in-coming tide! The linden wood shield and the old spear of ash wood Are needed again at the cold waterside. Draw up the shield wall, oh, shoulder companions; Later whenever our story is told, They'll say that we died guarding what we call dearest, Land for the sons of the Saxons to hold! Hasten, oh, house-carls, north to the Danelaw, Harald Hardrada's come over the sea! His longships he's laden with berserks from Norway To claim Canute's crown and our master to be! Bitter he'll find here the bite of our spearpoints, Hard ruling Northmen too proud to die old. We'll grant him six feet- plus as much as he's taller -- Of land that the sons of the Saxons will hold! Hasten on Southwards, strong son of Godwin, Triumph is sweet and your men have fought hard. But William the Bastard has landed at Pevensey, Burning the land you have promised to guard. Draw up the spears on the hilltop at Hastings, Fight till the sun drops and evening grows cold, And die with the last of your Saxons around you, Holding the land you were given to hold! (Repeat First Verse) Page 24 SONG Carlough Traditional Irish Bruce McTaggart, hold your face Brooding over the old disgrace That black FitzWilliam's stormed yer place, Drove you to the fens! Grey said, "Vicar, leave assured. Soon the fire-byrne we'll secure." Until he met at Glen Malure With Feach MacHugh O'Burne! CHORUS |---------------------------------------| | Curse and swear, Lord Kildare! | | Feach will do as Feach will dare! | | Now, FitzWilliam have a care! | | Fallen is your star, low! | | Up with halberd! Out with sword! | | On we go, for by the Lord | | Feach MacHugh has given the word: | | "Follow me up to Carlough!" | |---------------------------------------| See the swords at Glen Amough: They're flashin' over the English Pale! See all the children of the Gael Beneath O'Burne's banner! Rooster of a fightin' stock, Would you let a Saxon cock Crow out upon an Irish rock? Fly up and teach him manners! CHORUS From Tassangart to Clamore There flows a stream of Saxon gore We're great as Rory Og O'Mor At sendin' the lions to Hades! White is sick, Grey is fled, Now for black FitzWilliams head! We'll send it over drippin' red To Queen 'Liza and her ladies! CHORUS Page 25 SONG The Rattlin' Bog Traditional English Again, there are several versions of this song. CHORUS |-----------------------------------------------------------| | Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog, the bog down in the valley, oh! | | Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog, the bog down in the valley, oh! | |-----------------------------------------------------------| Now in this bog there was a TREE, A rare TREE, a rattlin' TREE. Tree in the bog In the bog down in the valley, oh! CHORUS Now on this tree there was a LIMB, A rare LIMB, a rattlin' LIMB. Limb on the tree On the tree in the bog In the bog down in the valley, oh! CHORUS Now on this limb there was a BRANCH, A rare BRANCH, a rattlin' BRANCH. Branch on the limb On the limb on the tree On the tree in the bog In the bog down in the valley, oh! CHORUS Continue with... And on this branch there was a twig... And on this twig there was a leaf... And on this leaf there was a bug... And on this bug there was a hair... Page 26 SONG Krushkin Lan Let the farmer praise his grounds Let the huntsman praise his hounds Let the shepherd praise his dewy-scented lambs But I, more wise than they, spend each night and happy day With me charming little krishkin lan, lan, lan, With me charming little krishkin lan. CHORUS |------------------------------------------| | Oh grahm a cream a krushkin, | | Schlantsa gal ma voornen | | Grahm a cream a krushkin lan, lan, lan, | | Grahm a cream a krushkin lan. | |------------------------------------------| Immortal and divine, great Bacchus, god of wine Create me by adoption, make me your son In hopes you may comply, may me glass ne'er run dry Nor me darlin' Krushkin lan, lan, lan, Nor me darlin' Krushkin lan. CHORUS Now when grim death appears In a few but happy years He'll say, "Oh won't you come along with me?" I'll say, "Begone you knave, for King Bacchus gave me leave For to fill another krushkin lan, lan, lan." For to fill another krushkin lan. CHORUS So fill your glasses high Let's not part so dry Tho' the lark proclaims It is the dawn and since we can't remain May we shortly meet again To share another krushkin lan, lan, lan To share another krushkin lan. CHORUS Page 27 Rounds SONG Heigh Ho Nobody Home Heigh, Ho, nobody home Meat nor drink nor money have I none Still, I will, be very merry Heigh, Ho, nobody home. Rose, Rose Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose Will I ever see thee wed? I will marry at thy will, Sire At thy will. Come, Follow, Follow By: John Hilton, 1596-1657 Come, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow me. Whither shall I follow, follow, follow, Whither shall I follow, follow thee? To the greenwood, to the greenwood, to the greenwood, greenwood tree. Ah, Poor Bird Ah, poor bird Take thy flight High above the sorrows Of this sad night. Scotland's Burning Scotland's burning, Scotland's burning, Look out, look out! Fire, fire, fire, fire Pour on water, pour on water. Page 28 Barnacle Bill the Sailor SONG women: Who's that knocking at my door? Who's that knocking at my door? Who's that knocking at my door? Said the fine young maiden men: Open the door you fucking whore, said Barnacle Bill the Sailor. Open the door you fucking whore, said Barnacle Bill the Sailor. women: Will you take me to the dance? Will you take me to the dance? Will you take me to the dance? Said the fine young maiden. men: Screw the dance and drop your pants, said B.B. the S. (twice) Screw the dance and drop your pants, said B.B. the S. (twice) women: What if my parents should come home? (three times) Said the fine young maiden. men: I'll kill your Pa and fuck your Ma, said B.B. the S. (twice) women: What if we should have a girl? (three times) Said the fine young maiden. men: I'll dig a ditch and bury the bitch, said B.B. the S. (twice) women: What if we should have a boy? (three times) Said the fine young maiden. men: I'll take him to sea, so he can fuck like me, said Barnacle Bill the Sailor I'll take him to sea, so he can fuck like me, said Barnacle Bill the Sailor Page 29 SONG Roll Me Over Chorus : Repeat after each verse. |---------------------------------------------| | Roll me over, in the clover, | | Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again. | |---------------------------------------------| Oh, this is number one, We're going to have some fun. Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again. Oh, this is number two, His hand is on my shoe. Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again. Oh, this is number three, His hand is on my knee. Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again. Oh, this is number four, We're rolling on the floor. Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again. Oh, this is number five, His hand is on my thigh. Roll me over, lay me down, and do it again. Oh, this is number six, He's teaching me some tricks. Oh, this is number seven, I think that I'm in heaven. Oh, this is number eight, It's really feeling great. Oh, this is number nine, It's really getting fine. Oh, this is number ten, We're going to start again. Page 30 SONG The Rising of the Moon Oh then tell me Sean O'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so Hush me bookle, hush and listen, and his cheeks were all aglow "I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon, For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon." By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, The pikes must be together by the rising of the moon. Oh then tell me Sean O'Farrell, where the gathering is to be, At the old spot by the river, quite well known to you and me. One more note, for signal token, whistle up the marching tune, With your pike upon your shoulder, by the rising of the moon. By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, With your pike upon your shoulder, by the rising of the moon. Out of many a mud-walled cabin eyes were watching through the night Many a manly heart was throbbin' for the coming morning light. Murmurs ran along the valleys like the Banshee's lonely croon, And a t'ousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon. By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, And a t'ousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon. There beside the singing river that dark mass of men was seen For above their shining weapons hung their own beloved green Death to every foe and traitor, forward strike the marching tune And 'urrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon. 'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon. And 'urrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon. Page 31 Maids, When You're Young, Never Wed an Old Man SONG An old man came courting me, Hey ding, doo-rum down. An old man came courting me, Hey doo-rum down. ( This line often done as "Me being young" ) An old man came courting me, Fain he would marry me Maids, when you're young, never wed an old man. CHORUS For they've got no falloorum, falliddle, falloorum They've got no falloorum, falliddle all day. They've got no falloorum, They've lost their ding doo-rum So, maids, when you're young, never wed an old man. Now, when we went to church, Hey ding, doo-rum down. Now, when we went to church, Hey doo-rum down. When we went to church, He left me in the lurch Maids, when you're young, never wed an old man. CHORUS Now, when we went to bed, Hey ding, doo-rum down. Now, when we went to bed, Hey doo-rum down. Now, when we went to bed, He neither done nor said Maids, when you're young, never wed an old man. CHORUS Now, when we went to sleep, Hey ding, doo-rum down. Now, when we went to sleep, Hey doo-rum down. Now, when we went to sleep, Out of bed I did creep Into the arms of a jolly young man. FINAL CHORUS And I found his falloorum, falliddle, falloorum, I found his falloorum, falliddle all day. I found his falloorum, he got my ding doo-rum So, maids, when you're young, never wed an old man.

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