Category: songs

trad 

Archie Fisher recorded in 1976 on The Man With a Rhyme, where he writes "The Greig manuscript gave us one of the few songs where the woman comes off the better. In this case, she escapes a fixed marriage with a rich sea Captain, apparently taking his ship as well as his gold."

My parents married me ower young
To an auld carle baith bald and dumb.
His love was done and mine new sprung,
So I’ll fly the plains wi’ my laddie O.

Chorus:
Come, bonnie laddie, mount and go,
Hey, bonnie laddie, mount and go,
Come, bonnie laddie, mount and go,
Mount and I’ll gang wi’ ye O.

But I would leave my good peat stack,
And so would I my good kailyard,
So would I my auld bald laird
To fly the plains wi’ my laddie O.

And when the auld carle lay fast asleep,
Out of his arms she did quickly creep,
And the keys o’ the cabin she did keep,
And she’s flown the plains wi’ her laddie O.

The auld carte wakened in the ha’;
The sheets were cold and she was awa’.
Wi’ the weight o’ herself in goud and a’
She’s flown the plains wi’ her laddie O.

“It’s ye’ll gang doon tae yon seashore,
And ye’ll see a ship where she was afore;
Ye’ll speir at the skipper if she’s been there,
Or if any of his sailors saw her O.”

And as she sailed out ower yon lea,
She drank a toast right merrily.
She’s thrown the wine glass intae the sea,
For joy she has found wi’ her laddie O.

When she landed ower yon lea,
She was lady o’ fifty ploughs and three,
Lady o’ fifty ploughs and three
And she dearly lo’es her laddie O. 

Garrison Keillor 1983

A Prairie Home Companion

My grandmother’s cat was too large for a shelf
so he slept every night in a bed
He was almost as big as my grandma herself
because three times a day he was fed
He was fed tuna scraps as he sat in my grandma’s lap
on his back with his big napkin tied
He ate – as – much as he could hold
’til he got – too – wide

Chorus 1:
Every day piles of chicken parts
Mouse morsels a la carte
He ate – as – much as he could hold ’til he got – too – wide

My grandmother said that of cats she had known,
her favorite by far was old Dan
He sat by her side and his eyes simply shown
when she opened the tuna fish can
With his eyes shining bright and a grown of delight
he would brush against grandma and purr
But one – day – he knocked grandma down
because he was now bigger than her

Chorus 2:
Every day piles of salmon meat
Sirloin of parakeet
But one – day – he knocked grandma down because he was now bigger than her

She fell to the floor with a pitiful scream
and lay there unconscious a while
When she awoke his eyes were agleam
as he looked down on her with a smile
With his gigantic paw he pinned my old grandma
as he gave her a horrible grin
He looked – at – her legs and her arms,
wondering where to begin

Chorus 3:
Every day, gobs of goose pate
Big plates of fish filet
He looked – at – her legs and her arms, wondering where to begin

She managed to climb despite her bad back
to the top of her old Frigidaire
She threw him two steaks, his favorite snack,
which he always took medium-rare
Those three days which she spent up on the fridge
seemed to her like a lifetime at least
She threw – down – all the food she had
to fill up that ravenous beast

Chorus 4:
Burgers and cottage fries
Hams of the family size
She threw – down – all the food she had to fill up that ravenous beast

She fed him three days ’til she ran out of stuff
and the giant was begging for more
He was standing and nibbling at her little pink scuff
when the family burst in through the door
It took twenty men to shove him in a pen
and we shipped him away to the zoo
Let this – be – a lesson to us all
that your cat should be smaller than you

Chorus 5:
Carte blanche you can’t afford
Cut out the smorgasbord
Let this – be – a lesson to us all that your cat should be smaller than you 

Sarah Pirtle 1979

"In 1979 I was attending a workshop with Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb. On a January evening we stood outside under a full moon for a ceremony, and afterwards as I was walking back, I heard the song arrive in my mind. I kept singing it on hikes but  I didn't know if others would like to learn it, until I shared it first with my affinity group at the Seneca Women's Encampment in 1983. A Gentle Wind recorded it in 1984 on "Two Hands Hold the Earth." The wonder of a song is that today it is sung in schools, at nature centers, at herbal trainings, and by performers including Annie Patterson, Bruce O'Brien, and the Seedy Seeds. What I love to do is ask people about a favorite tree or flower or other part of nature that they love and encourage them to make up their own new verses -- "I am a sunflower jumping up high." You can also delve into other directions like, "I am a voice healing life." It's such a joy to find out how it has traveled. Most recently, a  four-year-old girl and her father (called The Rookies) sing this song with great vitality on youtube, watched by a million and a quarter people."

My roots go down, down to the earth (x3)
My roots go down.

Chorus:
My roots go down, down to the earth (x3)
My roots go down.

I am a pine tree on a mountainside. (3x)
My roots go down.

I am a wild flower pushing through stones. (3x)

I am a willow swaying through the storm. (3x)

I am an ancient redwood tree. (3x)

I am a mountain reaching for the sun. (3x)

I rise with the voice of every living thing. (3x) 

Nancy Kerr 2014

Nancy Kerr: https://nancykerr.bandcamp.com/track/never-ever-lay-them-down

Cast down in stony gardens Sweet visitor we heard you say
There grows no grass And none shall pass Till some great day of judgement
Oh are we bound for glory Born on a little fortune’s way
Or are we bound for some dark town And some great northern story

Chorus:
And it’s cold, cold, the winter’s hold She shall not think of stalling
She’s proud, proud, of every cloud And will never ever lay them down
Love, love, the winds above To blow towards your calling
Behold in dreams Your true love stings And never ever lay them down

Oh once I played the lover To follow on a swallow’s tail
And what I’d give for to relive My days of being a rover
But wrapped in love’s embraces Like summer in a silken gown,
How could I pawn what we have sworn Lay down your gold and silver

Do you see black beaks a gleaming Did you ever see a magpie’s wing
My love did drop those greedy birds To fill our hearts with singing
Cast down by steel cathedrals My lover is a fallen star
Who’s spark shall stoke This heart that broke Held in his hand a beating

Kind eyes in trepidation Whatever do you hear behold
Cold labour’s done and nothing won Grey stone around your children
But freedom’s eyes are golden And glitter like a silver crown
And none shall fear while love is here Cast down in stony gardens 

James C. Moore 1914

While a 26 years old seminary student, Moore visited his hometown church to preach, where his father had led the singing for years. Hearing his father's voice failing him, Moore knew that he would not hear his father sing much longer due to his father's advanced age. He wrote this song and dedicated it to his parents.

I have heard of a land On the faraway strand
‘Tis a beautiful home of the soul
Built by Jesus on high There we never shall die
‘Tis a land where we never grow old.

Chorus:
Never grow old, never grow old, in a land where we’ll never grow old (x2)

In that beautiful home Where we’ll nevermore roam
We shall be in the sweet by and by
Happy praise to the King Through eternity sing
‘Tis a land where we never shall die.

When our work here is done And the life-crown is won
And our troubles and trials are o’er
All our sorrow will end And our voices will blend
With the loved ones who’ve gone on before. 

Walt Aldridge 1989

Ari & Mia: https://ariandmia.bandcamp.com/track/aint-no-ash-will-burn

I have seen snow that fell in May
I have seen rain on cloudless days
Some things are always bound to change
There ain’t no ash will burn

Chorus:
Love is a precious thing I’m told
Burns just like West Virginia coal
But when the fire dies down, it’s cold
There ain’t no ash will burn

You say this life is not your lot
But I can’t be something that I’m not
Can’t stoke a fire that we ain’t got
There ain’t no ash will burn

In every life there comes a time
When there are no more tears to cry
We must leave something dear behind
There ain’t no ash will burn

Brian McNeill 1995

I was listening to the news the other day
I heard a fatcat politician who had the cheek to say
He was proud to be Scottish, by the way
With the glories of our past to remember
Here’s tae us, wha’s like us, listen to the cry
No surrender to the truth, and here’s the reason why
The pride and the glory’s just another bloody lie
They use to keep us all in line

Chorus:
‘Cause there’s no gods and there’s precious few heroes
But there’s plenty on the dole in the land o’ the leal
And it’s time now to sweep the future clear
Of the lies of a past that we know was never real

So to hell with the heather and the glen
They cleared us off once, and they’ll do it all again
‘Cause they still prefer sheep to thinking men
Ah but men that think like sheep are even better
There’s nothing much to choose between the old laird and the new
They still don’t give a damn for the likes of me and you
Just mind you pay your rent to the factor when it’s due
And mind your bloody manners when you pay

And tell me, will we never hear the end
Of poor bloody Charlie and Culloden yet again
Though he ran like a rabbit doon the glen
Leaving better folk than him to be butchered
Or are you sitting in your council house, thinking o’ your clan
Waiting for the Jacobites to come and free the land
Try going doon the broo wi’ a claymore in your hand
And count all the princes in the queue

So don’t talk to me of Scotland the Brave
‘Cause if we don’t fight soon there’ll be nothing left to save
Or would you rather stand and watch them dig your grave
While you wait for the Tartan Messiah
He’ll lead us to the Promised Land wi’ laughter in his eye
We’ll all live off the oil and the whisky, by and by
Free heavy beer, pie suppers in the sky
Will we never hae the sense to learn 

trad

Pentangle recorded in 1972

Just like the songbird deep in the forest
I sing praises but you never hear
And deep in my body my song is silent
Yet contented at times when you’re near

Please listen to me, and I will tell thee
All those words that have never been said
They shout inside me but then they cower
Behind weakness that’s rulin’ my head

I dearly love thee and not one other
With a sweetness that lies in my breast
‘Tis you that made me but God forbade me
To uncover my heart to love’s test

No love is sorrow, but now I’m happy
To have thee in this world for my love
And now you must know my soul is for thee
That’s why this life is my soaring dove 

Adapted by Molly Ellis?

Isn’t language wonderful, there are so many words
There’s synonyms and antonyms, metaphors and verbs
With language there are so many ways to convey the very same thought
But somehow when it comes to women and sex, comprehend words some men cannot

Chorus:
No means no, but so do other things too
Like not right now and I don’t want to
I don’t think so, this doesn’t feel right
It’s not gonna happen tonight

Now you may have noticed that none of those phrases actually contained the word “no”
But you knew what they meant, didn’t you? It’s easy, don’t you know
You don’t have to have superpowers, you don’t have to read her thoughts
You just have to give a shit about what she really wants

Not everyone wants to have sex with you, it sounds crazy, but it’s true
Even if you’re famous, or really hot, or have lots of money, or happen to be their boss
“What if she was nice to me?” “What if she didn’t say ‘no’?”
“What if she made a horrified face, and said ‘I should probably go’?”

After last chorus:
So don’t try to make it happen tonight ‘Cause if you do that’s sexual assault 

Sheldon Posen 1996

Finest Kind wrote "About the recent calamitous demise of the 500-year-old Newfoundland cod fishery. The song is modelled on Coal Not Dole, Kay Sutcliffe's lament for the coal mining industry in Great Britain, as sung by Coope, Boyes, and Simpson. A reach is a sea inlet or channel. A stage was the shed where in former times inshore cod fishermen landed, split, washed, and salted their catch. A flake was a rough pole-and-bough platform on which salt cod was dried in sun and wind before being exported."

Finest Kind: https://ianrobb1.bandcamp.com/track/no-more-fish-no-fishermen

Out along the harbour reach Boats stand dried up on the beach
Ghost-like in the early dawn Empty, now the fish are gone.
What will become of people now? Try to build a life somehow
Hard, hard times are back again No more fish, no fishermen.

No more shoppers in the stores Since the fish plant closed its doors
Men who walked a trawler’s decks Now line up for welfare cheques.
There’s big “For Sale” signs everywhere Pockets empty, cupboards bare
See it on the news at ten No more fish, no fishermen.

Once from Ship Cove to Cape Race Port aux Basques to Harbour Grace
Newfoundlanders fished for cod Owing merchants, trusting God.
They filled their dories twice a day They fished their poor sweet lives away
They could not imagine then No more fish, no fishermen.

Back before the Second War We could catch our fish inshore
Boats were small and gear was rough We caught fish, but left enough.
And now there’s no more fish because The trawler fleets took all there was
We could see it coming then No more fish, no fishermen.

Farewell now to stage and flake Get out for the children’s sake
Leave all friends and kin behind Take whatever job you find.
There’s some that say things aren’t so black They say the fish will all come back
Who’ll be here to catch them then? No more fish, no fishermen.