Category: songs

Stan Rogers 1976

 

Stan Rogers: Stan Rogers intros & sings “Barrett’s Privateers” in One Warm Line documentary

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6Nl3PaTimA

O the year was Seventeen Seventy-Eight How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now A letter of marque came from the king To the scummiest vessel I’ve ever seen God damn them all I was told we’d cruise the seas for American gold We’d fire no guns, shed no tears Now I’m a broken man on a Halifax pier The last of Barrett’s Privateers O Elcid Barrett cried the town How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now For twenty brave men all fishermen who Would make for him the Antelope’s crew The Antelope sloop was a sickening site How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now She’d list to the port and her sails in rags And the cook in the scuppers with the staggers and jags On the King’s birthday we put to sea How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now Ninety-one days to Montego Bay Pumping like madmen all the way On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now When a great big Yankee hove in sight With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight The Yankee lay low down with gold How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now She was broad and fat and loose in stays But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days Then at length she stood two cables away How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now Our cracked four-pounders made awful din But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in The Antelope shook and pitched on her side How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs And the main truck carried off both me legs Now here I lay in my twenty-third year How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now It’s been six years since we sailed away And I just made Halifax yesterday

 

 

John Coletta 1992

 

Humpff Family: Beaujolais Nouveau – Humpff Family

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sgb7k7sx4Z0

The train’s pulling out of the station I was bouncing the baby on my knee You said that all we were leaving Was long nights and longing to be free Waving to those smiling faces You told them we’d be back before they knew They said they were longing to change places Wishing they could buy that ticket too Chorus: The hardest part about leaving The hard parts not going away It’s the life you have to take with you And the price other people have to pay I’m not one for nostalgia There are far too many things left to do But I’d rather be in George Square than Trafalgar And the only thing that’s stopping me is you You said that you wanted to travel There were things that you wanted to see I see the knots you’re trying to unravel And the only thing that’s stopping you is me

 

 

Sydney Carter 1981

 

Julian of Norwich (1343-1416) was an English anchoress of the Middle Ages. She lived an ascetic life in a room built onto the side of a church, and people would seek advice from her. During her lifetime, Norwich was the second most important city after London and was devastated by the Black Death of 1348-1350, the Peasants’ Revolt in 1381, and the suppression of the Lollards. In 1373, aged 30, Julian received a series of visions. Her writings, now known as Revelations of Divine Love, are the earliest surviving English-language works attributed to a woman.

Youth Trad Song Committee 2024: Julian of Norwich

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D9va4tms1_w

Loud are the bells of Norwich and the people come and go Here by the tower of Julian I tell them what I know Chorus Ring out bells of Norwich and Let the winter come and go All shall be well again I know Love like the yellow daffodil is coming through the snow Love like the yellow daffodil is Lord of all I know Ring for the yellow daffodil, the flower in the snow Ring for the yellow daffodil and tell them what I know For repeat of final chorus: All shall be well I’m telling you Let the winter come and go All shall be well again I know.

 

 

trad 

 

Collected by Mary E. Spence from Sarah Foster of Sedbergh, Yorkshire. Thought to date back at least 400 years.

Eliza Carthy: Benjamin Bowmaneer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykADKzuQqQY

Have you heard how the wars began, Benjamin Bowmaneer? Have you heard how the wars began? Castors away! Have you heard how the wars began When England fought to a man? And the proud tailor rode prancing away Of his shear board he made a horse? For him to ride across. And the proud tailor rode prancing away Of his scissors made bridle bits? To keep the horse in his wits. And the proud tailor rode prancing away As the tailor rode o’er the lea? He spied a flea on his knee. And the proud tailor rode prancing away Of his needle he made a spear? To prick that flea through his ear. And the proud tailor rode prancing away Of his thimble he made a bell? To ring that flea’s funeral knell. And the proud tailor rode prancing away Was this how the wars began? When England fought to a man? And the proud tailor rode prancing away

 

 

Alex Sturbaum 2020

 

“An apocalyptic corvid song. Things are bad out there, but the crows will probably be fine.”

Alex Sturbaum: https://alexsturbaum.bandcamp.com/track/big-black-bird

https://alexsturbaum.bandcamp.com/track/big-black-bird

Big black bird come round my door in the morning, in the morning, boys Big black bird come round my door in the morning, boys Big black bird come round my door Just like he done the day before Said “best get ready, there’s a big change coming in the morning” What news, what news you brought to me (in the morning…) While I’ve been sailing o’er the sea What have you seen while winging free Asked him had he seen my girl “No, sir, though I’ve been o’er this world She’s gone, long gone, and she ain’t a-coming back” Asked him had he seen my town “yes, sir, yes, I watched it drown The sea come up and it all come down” Asked him had he seen my land “Yes, sir, there’s fire from sea to strand And it’s in the grips of a poison man” How can you speak these words so free When each one tears my heart from me “why should I care for that?” said he “Big storm’s a-coming and there’s nowhere to go The rent’s too high and the money’s too low It’s coming fast and you change too slow” “You’re long on blame and short on time But me and mine, we’ll do just fine We’ll pick your bones and eat your eyes” Big black bird come round my door Just like he done the day before Says best get ready, there’s a big change coming in the morning

 

 

Heywood Banks 2006

 

The 62 ft tall statue called King of Kings cost the megachurch $250k in 2004 and was struck by lightning in 2010, which destroyed it. A slightly smaller statue with a different design replaced it in 2012.

Heywood Banks: Big Butter (With new last verse)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWF8_rZnwLA

In southern Ohio, Just north of Cincinnati I beheld a vision Next to the expressway Was a 60-foot Jesus With his hands in the air Looked like he’s carved out of butter Just like at the state fair Chorus Big butter Jesus, Sweet cream Jesus O Country-Fresh Jesus, Unsalted Jesus O Promise Jesus, Imperial Jesus Can’t believe it’s not Jesus, Oleo Lord Well you see him from his chest up Like he’s about to do a backflip Or maybe scored a touchdown Or maybe melting or about to drown You know I been to the state fair Seen a calf made out of golden corn Stephen Hawking out of string cheese And the virgin out of olives Shipped in pieces on a flatbed Staring backwards was his big head Drivers stuck in traffic backups Desperately avoiding eye contact Well don’t you make no graven images I think it’s one of the ten commandments I hope the grading curve is kindly You get into heaven with a ninety

 

 

John Thompson 2010

 

The true story of a Glaswegian emigrant to Australia, William Sinclair, who became famous in the Maleny District of South-East Queensland for defeating a bear in a wrestling match when a circus visited Landsborough in the early 20th Century.

Cloudstreet (John Thompson’s band): Bill and the Bear

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=saSDJOO5LNU

Come listen now, good people here To a story of renown Of the day a hundred years ago when the circus came to town Mr. Wirth and all his gallant crew They raised the big top high And all the folk for miles around Gathered under a canvas sky Chorus And were you there in the clear night air when William Sinclair he fought the bear? Were you there to see William Sinclair When he wrestled the bear to the ground? There were dancing ponies and tumbling clowns The best you ever did see A lion tamer and a high wire act A girl on the flying trapeze There was a fat ring-master in a big top hat And he slashed his whip through the air With a roar and a growl, a cage went clang It was Samson the mighty bear He was ten feet high, he was nine feet wide A mountain of muscle and fur A mighty beast just as black as the coal The ground shook with his roar Then the man with the whip, he called for quiet Not a sound from those who were there “I’ve a crisp ten pounds for any man here Who’s brave enough to wrestle a bear!” Bill and his family had come to see the show His youngest newly born The strongest man to ever walk the range He’d carry his weight in corn He sized up the beast, with a glance at his wife He slowly raised his hand “I’ll have a go”, he heard himself say Then up struck the band Stripped to the waist, Bill entered the ring Circling and bouncing round First left, then right, ’til he lunged right in The crowd didn’t make a sound They twisted and they turned as they wrestled and they grappled At the skin and the muscle and the hair With a mighty roar, Bill threw Samson down He raised his fist in the air You’ve never heard a roar quite like it The shouts split the midnight air Bill was raised above all the heads of the crowd To the cheers of everyone there And to this day, when you see the name Of the famous Bill Sinclair Raise your glass and drink to the health Of the only man to ever beat the bear.

 

 

Joe Crookston 2008

 

Rise Again says “Inspired by Anne Lamott’sÿ book, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing & Life (1994).”

Joe Crookston: Bird By Bird

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Msn50rJV5P8

Trouble isn’t easy, trouble brings doubt Fear comes in and the joy goes out How we gonna make it, what we gonna do? How we gonna make it when trouble comes through? Chorus: We’ll take it bird by bird, little at a time, take it bird by bird And stone by stone, little at a time, take it stone by stone Change isn’t easy, change is hard Fear comes in, it can tear you apart How we gonna make it, what we gonna do? How we gonna make it when change comes through? Dreams aren’t easy, dreams can get lost Fear comes in the dream gets tossed How we gonna make it, what we gonna do? How we gonna make this dream come true?

 

 

Stan Rogers 1978

 

Stan Rogers: Bluenose

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RBW_B8I91wM

Once again with the tide she slips her lines Turns her head and comes awake Where she lay so still there at Privateer’s Wharf Now she quickly gathers way She will range far south from the harbour mouth And rejoice with every wave Who will know the Bluenose in the sun Feel her bow rise free of Mother Sea In a sunburst cloud of spray That stings the cheek while the rigging will speak Of sea-miles gone away She is always best under full press Hard over as she’ll lay And who will know the Bluenose in the sun? That proud, fast Queen of the Grand Banks Fleet Portrayed on every dime Knew hard work in her time?hard work in every line The rich men’s toys of the Gloucester boys With their token bit of cod They snapped their spars and strained to pass her by But she left them all behind Now her namesake remains to show what she has been What every schoolboy remembers and will not come again To think she’s the last of the Grand Banks Schooners That fed so many men And who will know the Bluenose in the sun? So does she not take wing like a living thing Child of the moving tide See her pass with grace on the water’s face With clean and quiet pride Our own tall ship of great renown still lifts unto the sky Who will know the Bluenose in the sun?

 

 

trad 

 

Bert Lloyd wrote in 1956: “Old Dad Adams of Cowra, New South Wales, used to sing this song. Rumour had it the pubs didn’t stock anything strong enough for Old Dad. It was said he would bore a hole in the bottom of a silo and suck out the fermented juice of the ensilage through a straw. To one expressing disbelief, the answer was: “All right, look for yourself. All the silos around Cowra have got little holes bored in ’em.” Anyway, Old Dad didn’t make the song. Perhaps it was made by the Speewa sleeper-cutter, who went into a chemist’s and called for prussic acid with a vitriol chaser, adding: “And don’t go dilutin’ it with that ammonia, neither.” The tune is just another variant of the tried-and-trusted Dinah and her Villikins (without the refrain and softened out and syncopated a bit) which tune has probably been used for more texts than any other in the English-speaking world”

Spiers & Boden: https://spiersboden.bandcamp.com/track/bluey-brink

https://spiersboden.bandcamp.com/track/bluey-brink

There once was a shearer, by name Bluey Brink, He’s a devil for work, he’s a devil for drink. He could shear a five hundred each day without fear, He could drink without flinching twelve gallons of beer. Now Jimmy, the barman, who served out the drink, How he hated the sight of this here Bluey Brink. ‘Cause he stayed much too late and he come much too soon; At morning, at evening, at night time and noon. So one morning when Jimmy was cleaning the bar With sulphuric acid that he kept in a jar, Along come the shearer a-bawling with thirst, Saying, “Whatever you got, Jim, just hand me the first.” Now, it ain’t put in history, nor it ain’t put in print, But Old Bluey drunk acid with never a wink, Saying, “That’s the stuff, Jimmy, Christ, strike me stone dead. This’ll make me the ringer of Stevenson’s shed.” But the rest of the day as he served out the beer, The barman he was trembling with worry and fear. Too nervous to argue, too anxious to fight, Thinking that shearer a corpse in his fright. But next morning when Jimmy he opened the door, Well, along come that shearer a-bawling for more; With his eyebrows all singed and his whiskers deranged And holes in his hide like a dog with the mange. Says Jimmy, “And how did you find the new stuff?” Oh, says Bluey, “It’s fine but I’ve not had enough. Though it sets me to coughing and you know I’m no liar, But every cough sets my whiskers on fire.”