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LYRICS OF THE JRM'S REPERTOIRE - A SELECTION 0. Annie Laurie1. Auld Lang Syne 2. Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms 3. Bonny Boy (Derry Air) 4. Carrickfergus 5. Cliffs Of Doneen 6. Crow On the Cradle 7. Danny Boy 8. Dirty Old Town 9. Johny Cope 10. Lea Rig 11. Loch Lomond 12. Molly Malone 13. Nancy Whisky 14. Nodding Song 15. Raggle Taggle Gypsies 16. Scotland The Brave 17. Shearing's No For You 18. When The Saints Go Marching In 19. Whisky In The Jar 20. Wild Mountain Thyme 21. Wild Rover 22. Ye Banks And Braes Annie Laurie Maxwellton braes are bonnie, Where early fa's the dew, And 'twas there that Annie Laurie Gave me her promise true. Gave me her promise true, Which ne'er forgot will be, And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I lay me doon and dee. Her brow is like the snowdrift, Her throat is like a swan, Her face it is the fairest That e'er the sun shone on. That e'er the sun shone on, And dark blue is her ee, And for bonnie Annie Laurie I lay me doon and dee. Like dew on th' gowan lying, Is the fa' o' her fairy feet, And like winds in summer sighing Her voice is low and sweet. Her voice is low and sweet, And she's a' the world to me, And for bonnie Annie Laurie, I lay me doon and dee. Auld Lang Syne We twa hae run about the braes. An' pu'd the rowans fine. But wandered mony (a) weary foot, sin Auld Lang Syne. We twa hae paidl'd in the burn fra mornin' sun till dine. But seas between us braid hae roared, sin Auld Lang Syne. And for Auld Lang Syne, My Jo! For Auld Lang Syne we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet, for Auld Lang Syne! And surely ye'll be yer pint stop and surely ye'll be mine. We'll tak' a cup o' kindnes yet for Auld Lang Syne. And there's a hand my trusty fiere, and gie's a hand o'thine. We'll tak' a right gudewill waught. for Auld Lang Syne. Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms which I gaze on so fondly today. Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms like fairy gifts fad-ing away. Thou would'st still b adored as this moment thou art, Let the lovliness fade as it will. And a-round the dear ruin each wish of my heart would en twine it self ver-dent-ly still. It is not while bea-uty and truth are thin own; and thy cheeks unprofaned by tear. That the fervour and faith of a soul can be known; to which time will but make thee more dear No the heart truly loved wouldn't ever forget; but as tru-ly loves on to the close As the sunflower turns on her God when he sets; the same look which she turned when he rose. Bonny boy The trees are growing high my love And the grass is growing green And many a cold and winter night That I alone have been It is a cruel and bitter night That I must lie alone Oh! the Bonny Boy is young But he is growing Oh! father, dear father I think you did me wrong For to go and get me married To one that is so young He is but sixteen years And I am twenty-one Oh! the bonny boy is young And he's growing Oh! daughter, dear daughter I did not do you wrong For to go and get you married To one that is so young He will be a match for you When I am dead and gone Oh! the bonny boy is young But he is growing Oh! father, dear father I'll tell you what I'll do I'll send my love to college For another year or two And all around his college cap I'll bind a ribbon blue For to let the ladies know That he's married A year it went by And I passed the college wall And saw the young collegians A-playing at the ball I spied him in among them The fairest of them all Oh! my bonny boy was young And still growing At the age of sixteen years He was a married man And at the age of seventeen The father of a son But at the age of eighteen O'er his grave the grass grew green Cruel death put an end To his growing I'll buy my love a shroud Of the Holland linen brown And whilst they are making it The tears they will run down It's once I had a true love But now he's lying low And I'll nurse his bonny boy While he's growing Carrickfergus I wished I had you in Carrickfergus, Only for nights in Ballygrand, I would swim over the deepest ocean, The deepest ocean to be by your side. But the sea is wide and I can't swim over And neither have I wings to fly. I wish I could find me a handy boatman To ferry me over to my love and die. My childhood days bring back sad reflections Of happy days so long ago. My boyhood friends and my own relations. Have all passed on like the melting snow. So I'll spend my days in endless roving, Soft is the grass and my bed is free. Oh to be home now in Carrickfergus, On the long road down to the salty sea. And in Kilkenny it is reported On marble stone there as black as ink, With gold and silver I did support her But I'll sing no more now till I get a drink. I'm drunk today and I'm rarely sober, A handsome rover from town to town. Oh but I am sick now and my days are numbered Come all ye young men and lay me down. Cliffs Of Dooneen You may travel far, far from your own native home, Far away o'er the mountains, far away o'er the foam, But of all the fine places that I've ever been, Oh, there's none can compare with the Cliffs of Dooneen. It's a nice place to be on a fine summer's day, Watching all the wild flowers that ne'er do decay, Oh, the hare and the pheasant are plain to be seen, Making homes for their young round the Cliffs of Dooneen. Take a view o'er the mountains, fine sights you'll see there; You'll see high, rocky mountains on the west coast of Clare, Oh, the towns of Kilkee / and Kilrush can be seen, From the high, rocky slopes 'round the Cliffs of Dooneen. So fare thee well to Dooneen, fare thee well for a while, And although we are parted by the raging sea wild, Once again I will wander with my Irish colleague, Round the high rocky slopes of the Cliff of Dooneen. Cliffs of Dooneen Cliffs of Dooneen Cliffs of Dooneen ... Crow On the Cradle The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn Now is the time for a child to be born He'll laugh at the moon and he'll cry for the sun And if it's a boy he will carry a gun Sang the crow on the cradle And if it should be that this baby's a girl Never you mind if her hair doesn't curl With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes And a bomber above her wherever she goes Sang the crow on the cradle A crow on the cradle, the black and the white Somebody's baby is born for a fight The crow on the cradle, the white and the black Somebody's baby is not coming back Sang the crow on the cradle Your mother and father will sweat and they'll save To build you a coffin and dig you a grave Hush-a-bye little one, never you weep For we've got a toy that can put you to sleep Sang the crow on the cradle Oh bring me my gun and I'll shoot that bird dead That's what your mother and father once said A crow on the cradle, what can we do? Well this is a thing that I'll leave up to you Sang the crow on the cradle Danny Boy Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen, and down the mountain side The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying 'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide. But come ye back when summer's in the meadow Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow 'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so. And if you come, when all the flowers are dying And I am dead, as dead I well may be You'll come and find the place where I am lying And kneel and say / an "Ave" there for me. And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me. Dirty Old Town I met my love by the gas works wall Dreamed a dream by the old canal Kissed a girl by the factory wall Dirty old town Dirty old town Clouds a drifting across the moon Cats a prowling on their beat Spring's a girl in the street at night Dirty old town Dirty old town Heard a siren from the docks Saw a train set the night on fire Smelled the spring on the smoky wind Dirty old town Dirty old town I'm going to make me a good sharp axe Shining steel tempered in the fire Will chop you down like an old dead tree Dirty old town Dirty old town I met my love by the gas works wall Dreamed a dream by the old canal Kissed a girl by the factory wall Dirty old town Dirty old town Dirty old town Dirty old town Dirty old town Dirty old town Johnny Cope Cope sent challenge frae Dunbar Sayin "Charlie meet me an' ye daur; An' I'll learn yeh da airt o' war, If yeh'll meet me in da morning." When Charlie looked da letter upon, He drew his sword and scabbard from, Come, follow me, my merry merry men, We'll meet Johnnie Cope in da morning. O Hey! Johnnie Cope are ye waukin' yet? Or are yer drums a-beating yet? If yeh were waukin' I wad wait, Tae gang tae da coals in da morning. Now Johnnie, be as good as yer word, Come, let us try baith fire and sword, And dinna flee like a frichted bird, That's chased frae its nest i' da morning. When Johnnie Cope he heard o' this, He thocht it wouldna be amiss, Tae hae a horse in readiness, Tae flee awa in da morning. O Hey! Johnnie Cope are ye waukin' yet? Or are yer drums a-beating yet? If yeh were waukin' I wad wait, Tae gang tae da coals in da morning. Fye now, Johnnie, get up an' rin, Da Highland bagpipes mak' a din, It's better tae sleep in a hale skin, For it will be a bluidie morning. When Johnnie Cope tae Dunbar cam, They speired at him, "Where's a' yer men" "Da de'il confound me gin I ken, For I left them a' in da morning." O Hey! Johnnie Cope are ye waukin' yet? Or are yer drums a-beating yet? If yeh were waukin' I wad wait, Tae gang tae da coals in da morning. Now Johnnie, troth yeh werena blate, Tae come wi' news o' yer ain defeat, And leave yer men in sic a strait, Sae early in da morning. In faith, quo Johnnie, I got sic flegs Wi' their claymores an' philabegs, Gin I face them again, de'il brak my legs, So I wish yeh a' good morning. O Hey! Johnnie Cope are ye waukin' yet? Or are yer drums a-beating yet? If yeh were waukin' I wad wait, Tae gang tae da coals in da morning. Lea Rig When o'er the hill the eastern star Tells bughtin time is near, my jo, And owsen frae the furrow'd field Return sae dowf and weary O; Down by the burn, where birken buds Wi' dew are hangin clear, my jo, I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind Dearie O. At midnight hour, in mirkest glen, I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie, O, If thro' that glen I gaed to thee, My ain kind Dearie O; Altho' the night were ne'er sae wild, And I were ne'er sae weary O, I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind Dearie O. The hunter lo'es the morning sun; To rouse the mountain deer, my jo; At noon the fisher seeks the glen Adown the burn to steer, my jo: Gie me the hour o' gloamin' grey, It maks my heart sae cheery O, To meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind Dearie O. Loch Lomond By yon bonnie banks, / and by yon bonnie braes Where da sun shines bright / on Loch Lomond There me and my love / spent mony happy days On da bonnie, bonnie banks / o' Loch Lomond. Oh, ye'll tak' da high road, / and I'll tak' da low road And I'll be in Scotland / before ye But trouble it is there, / and mony hearts are sair On da bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond. 'Twas there that wi parted / in yon bonnie glen On da steep, steep side / o' Ben Lomond Where in purple hue / da Highland hills wi view And da moon gliints out / in da gloamin'. There da wild flowers spring / and da wee birdies sing And in sunshine / waters are sleepin' But da broken heart / it kens nae second spring Though resigned wi may be while wi're greetin'. 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 streets 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 Alive, alive oh, alive, alive oh, Crying Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh She died of a fever 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 Alive, alive oh, alive, alive oh, Crying Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh Nancy Whisky As I walked into Glasgow City Just to see what I might spy Who should I see but Nancy Whisky A little twinkle in her eye. I bought her, I drank her, I had myself another Ran out of money so I did steal She ran me ragged, Nancy Whisky For seven years a rolling wheel. Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy-O The more I held her, the more I loved her Nancy had her spell on me All I knew was lovely Nancy The things I needed I couldnae see. Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy-O As I arose to slake my thirst As I tried crawling from my bed I couldnae walk, no I couldnae even stagger Cos Nancy she held me by the legs. Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy-O Come on landlady and tell me what's the owing Tell me what there is to pay Fifteen shillings, she told me that's the reck'ning Now pay me quickly and get on your way. Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey Whiskey, Whiskey, Nancy-O Nodding Song We're a' noddin, Nid nid noddin, We're a' noddin, At our house at hame! 'Guid e'en to you, kimmer, And how do ye do?' 'Hiccup!' quo' kimmer, 'The better that I'm fou'! Kate sits i' the neuk, Suppin hen-broo. Deil tak Kate An she be na noddin too! 'How's a' wi' you, kimmer? And how do you fare?' ' A pint o' the best o't, And twa pints mair!' 'How's a' wi' you, kimmer? And how do you thrive? How monie bairns hae ye?' Quo' kimmer, ' I hae five.' 'Are they a' Johnie's?' 'Eh! atweel na: Twa o' them were gotten When Johnie was awa!' Cats like milk, And dogs like broo; Lads like lasses weel, And lasses lads too. Raggle Taggle Gypsies Three gypsies come to our hall door, And down stairs ran this a-lady, O. One sang high and another sang low And the other sang bonny Biscay O Then she pulled off her silk finished gown, And put on hose of leather, O The ragged ragged rags about our door And she's gone with the Raggle, taggle gypsies O It was late last night when my lord came home, Inquiring for his a-lady O The servants said on every hand She's gone with the raggle-taggle gypsies, O O saddle to me my milk-white steed And go and fetch me my pony, O That I may ride and seek my bride, Who's gone with the raggle-taggle gypsies O O he rode high, and he rode low He rode through wood and copses too, Until he came to a wide open field, And there he espied his a-lady O What makes you leave you house and land? What makes you leave you money, O? What makes you leave you new-wedded lord, To follow the raggle-taggle gypsies, O. What care I for my house and land? What care I for my money,O? What care I for my new-wedded Lass, I'm off with the raggle-taggle gypsies, O! Scotland The Brave Hark when the night is falling, hear! hear the pipes are calling. Loudly and proudly calling, down through the glen. There where the hills are sleeping, now feel the blood a-leaping, High as the spirits of the old Highland men. Towerning in gallant fame, Scotlands my mountain hame, High may your proud standards gloriously wave. Land o'my high edeavor, land o'the shining river, Land o'my heart forever, Scotland the brave. High in the misty Highlands, out by the purple islands, Brave are the hearts that beat beneath Scottish skies. Wild are the winds to meet you, staunch are the friends that greet you, Kind as the love that shines from fair maiden's eyes. Far off in sunlit places, sad are the Scottish faces, Yearning to feel the kiss of sweet Scottish rain. Where tropic skies are beaming, love sets the heart a-dreaming, Longing and dreaming for the homeland again. Shearing's No For You It was in the month of May, my bonny lassie o, It was in the month of May, my bonny lassie o, It was in the month of May When the flowers they were gay, And the lambs did sport and play, my bonny lassie o. Don't you mind on yonder hill, my bonny laddie o, Don't you mind on yonder hill, my bonny laddie o, Don't you mind on yonder hill When you swore you would me kill If you did not get your will, my bonny laddie o. O the shearing's not for you, my bonny lassie o, O the shearing's not for you, my bonny lassie o, The shearing's not for you For your back it winna bow, And your belly's rolling fu', my bonny lassie o. Don't you mind the banks of Ayr, my bonny laddie o, Don't you mind the banks of Ayr, my bonny laddie o, Don't you mind the banks of Ayr When you drew me in your snare, And you left me in despair, my bonny laddie o. Now the pipes do sweetly play, my bonny lass(dd)ie o, The pipes do sweetly play, my bonny ladd(ss)ie o, The pipes do sweetly play And the soldiers march away, And it's here I will not stay, my bonny lass(dd)ie o. When The Saints Go Marching In We're traveling in the footsteps Of those who've goone before But if we stand reunited Then a new world is in the store Oh when the saints go marching in When all the saints go marching in Oh Lord I want to be in that number When all the saints go marching in When the sun begins to shine When the sun begins to shine Oh Lord I want to be in that number When all the saints go marching in When the moon turns red with blood When the moon turns red with blood Oh Lord I want to be in that number When all the saints go marching in When stars will sing hallelujah! When stars will sing hallelujah! Oh Lord I want to be in that number When all the saints go marching in Oh when the pipes will sound the call Oh when the pipes will sound the call Oh Lord I want to be in that number When all the saints go marching in Whisky In The Jar As I was going over the Cork and Kerry Mountains I came on Captain Farrell, and his money he was countin' I first produced my pistol and then produced my rapier I said "Stand and deliver, or the devil he may take ya Musha rain dum-a-doo dum-a-da Whack for my daddy-o Whack for my daddy-o There's whiskey in the jar-o I took all of his money and it was a pretty penny I took all of his money, yeah, and I brought it home to Molly She swore that she loved me, no, never would she leave me But the devil take that woman, yeah, for you know she tricked me easy Now being drunk and weary I went to Molly's chamber Takin' my Molly with me, but I never knew the danger For about six or maybe seven in walked Captain Farrell I jumped up, fired my pistols, and I shot him with both barrels Now some men like a fishin', and some men like the fowlin' And some men like to hear, the cannonball a-roarin' But me, I like sleepin', especially in my Molly's chamber But here I am in prison, here I am with a ball and chain, yeah Wild Mountain Thyme O the summertime is coming and the trees are sweetly blooming And the wild mountain thyme grows around the purple heather. Will you go, lassie, go? And we'll all go together to pluck wild mountain thyme, all around the blooming heather Will you go, lassie, go? I will build my love a bower by yon pure crystal fountain. And on it I will pile all the flowers of the mountain. Will you go, lassie, go? If my true love she were gone I will surely find another. Where the wild mountain thyme grows around the purple heather. Will you go, lassie, go? I will build my love a shelter on yon high mountain green. And my love shall be the fairest that the summer sun has seen. Will you go, lassie, go? Wild Rover I've been a Wild Rover for many a year and I spent all my money on whiskey and beer. And now I'm returning with gold in great store and I never will play the wild rover no more. And it's no, nay, never, No nay never no more, Will I play the wild 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 a custom as yours I could have any day. I took from my pocket ten sovereigns bright and the landlady's eyes opened wide with delight. She said I have whiskey and wines of the best And the words that I told you were only in jest. I'll go home to my parents, confess what I've done and I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son. And when they've caressed me as oft times before Sure I never will play the wild rover no more. Ye Banks And Braes Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chaunt, ye little birds And I sae weary full o' care? Ye'll break my heart, ye warbling bird That wantons thro' the flow'ry thorn Ye mind o' departed joys Departed never to return. Oft hae I roved by bonnie Doon To see the rose and woodbine twine And ilka bird sang o' its love And fondly sae did I o' mine Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose Full sweet upon its thorny tree And my fause lover stole my rose But ah! he left the thorn wi' me. |