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2. |
Farewell Lovely Nancy
04:33
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The Handweaver and the Factory Maid
I am a handweaver to my trade
I fell in love with a factory maid
And if I could but her favour win
I'd sit beside her and I'd weave by steam
My father to me scornful said
'How can you fancy a factory maid,
When you can have lasses fine and gay
And dressed like unto the Queen of May'
As for your fine girls I don't care
For if I could but enjoy my dear
I'd go to the factory all the day
And she and I'd keep our shuttles in play
I went to my love's bedroom door
Where I had been many times before
But I could not speak nor yet get in
To the pleasant bed where my love lay in
How can you say it's a pleasant bed
When none lies there but a factory maid
A factory maid though e'er she be
Blessed is the man that enjoy she
Pleasant thoughts run in my mind
As I fold down the sheet so fine
See her two breasts a-standing so
Like two white hills covered in snow
O, where are the girls I'll tell you fine
They all have gone for to weave by steam
And if you would catch them you must rise at dawn
And trudge to the factory in the early dawn
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4. |
Lyke Wake Dirge
04:20
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This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
Any nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle lighte
And Christe receive thy saule.
If thou from here away does past,
Any nighte and alle,
To Whinny Moor thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.
If thou gavest ever hosen or shoen,
Any nighte and alle,
Then sit ye down and put them on;
And Christe receive thy saule.
But if hosen or shoen thou ne'er gav'st nane
Any nighte and alle,
The whinnes will prick thee to thy bare bane;
And Christe receive thy saule.
If thou from there away dost pass,
Any nighte and alle,
To Purgatory fire thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.
If thou gavest ever meat or drink,
Any nighte and alle,
The fire will never make thee shrink;
And Christe receive thy saule.
This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
Any nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle lighte
And Christe receive thy saule.
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6. |
Week Before Easter
04:22
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7. |
April Morning
05:00
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8. |
Ride On
05:11
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I once knew a fellow called Arthur McBride
And his pleasure was walking down by the seaside
A-walking, a-talking, a-viewing the tide
Though the weather was pleasant and charming
So gay and so gallant we went on our tramp
We met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Gramp
And the bonny little drummer who roused up the camp
With his rowdy dow dow in the morning
“What ho, me good fellows,” the sergeant did cry
“The same to you, sergeant,” we made to reply
There was nothing more said and we made to pass by
All on that bright summer's morning
“What ho, me good fellows, if you would enlist
Ten guineas in gold I would slap in your fist
And a crown in the bargain to kick up the dust
And to drink the King's health in the morning”
“Oh no, me good sergeant, we are not for sale
Though we're fond of our country, your bribes won't avail
Though we're fond of our country, we care not to sail
For we are the boys of the morning”
“If you would insult me without any word
I swear, by me king, I would draw me broadsword
And I'd run through your body as strength me affords
Ere you could breathe out the morning”
Oh we laid the little drummer as flat as a shoe
We made a football of his rowdy dow doo
The sergeant, the corporal, we knocked out the two
For we were the boys of the morning
And as for the weapons that hung by their side
We flung them as far as we could in the tide
“And the devil go with,” you says Arthur McBride
“For spoiling our walk in the morning”
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11. |
Idumea
04:36
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And am I born to die?
To lay this body down!
And must my trembling spirit fly
Into a world unknown?
A land of deepest shade,
Unpierced by human thought;
The dreary regions of the dead,
Where all things are forgot!
Soon as from earth I go
What will become of me?
Eternal happiness or woe
Shall then my portion be!
Waked by the trumpet sound
I from my grave shall rise,
And see the Judge with glory crowned
And see the flaming skies!
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12. |
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I would sooner be a beggar as a king
I'll tell you the reason why:
A king cannot swagger or walk like a beggar
Or be half so happy as I.
cho: Let your back and sides go bare, me boys
Hands and feet grow cold.
But give to your belly, boys, ale enough
Whether it be new or old.
I've sixpence in me pocket and I worked hard for that
Landlord, here it is.
There isn't any Turk going to make me work
While the beggin' is as good as it is.
Sometimes we call at a nobleman's hall
Beg for bread and beer.
Sometimes we are lame, sometimes we are blind
Sometimes too deaf too hear.
Sometimes we lie like hogs in a sty,
Frost and snow on the ground.
Sometimes eat a crust that's rolled in the dust
And be thankful if that can be found.
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Ralf Weihrauch recommends:
Bloody Well Everything! (The Complete Works 1985-2000)
by The Whisky Priests
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