The waves crash in the tide rolls out It’s an angry sea but there is no doubt That the lighthouse will keep shining out To warn a lonely sailor
And the lightning strikes And the wind cuts cold Through the sailor’s bones Through the sailor’s soul ‘Til there’s nothing left that he can hold Except a rolling ocean
Chorus: Oh I am ready for the storm Yes sir ready I am ready for the storm I’m ready for the storm
Oh give me mercy for my dreams ‘Cause every confrontation seems To tell me What it really means To be this lonely sailor
And when the sky begins to clear The sun it melts away my fear I shed a silent weary tear For those who mean to love me
The distance it is no real friend And time will take its time And you will find that in the end It brings you me This lonely sailor
And when You take me by the hand You love me, Lord, You love me And I should have realized I had no reasons to be frightened
Robert Burns wrote in 1788 "The last stanza of this song is mine: it was composed out of compliment to one of the worthiest fellows in the world, William Dunbar Esq, writer to the signet Edinburgh, and Colonel of the Crochallan Corps-a club of wits who took that title at the lime of raising the Fencible regiments. RB." The 'Crochallan' part of the title came from the innkeeper of the Anchor Close tavern (where the Crochallan Fencibles met), Dawney Douglas loved whistling the old Gaelic air Cro Chalien (Colin's Cattle).
Rattlin’ roarin’ Willie oh he held to the fair For to sell his fiddle an’ buy some other ware Bu’ partin’ with his fiddle th’ saut-tear blin’t his eye Rattlin’ roarin’ Willie! You’re welcome home to me
Oh Willie come sell your fiddle Oh sell your fiddle so fine Willie come sell your fiddle and buy A pint o’ wine “If I should sell my fiddle the worl’ Would think I was mad” But many a rantin’ day My fiddle an’ I have had
As I came by Crochannan, I cannily keekit bent Rattlin’ roarin’ Willie was seaten at yon boord-en Seaten at yon boord-en, and amang good company Oh rattlin’ roarin’ Willie! You’re welcome home to me
James Fagan said on the 10th anniversary listening party of Twice Reflected Sun that this one's fun, has a bit of an Americana feel. Kerr said she always thinks of Emily Smith because of her recording of it.
We could walk in the woods where we all are still children In the darkness where folly is free But the shadows must flee and like lizards they scatter When you throw your bright light upon me
Chorus: For rammed earth and cool walls Shelter our hearts and counter our faults And your wedgewood eyes strip me down And teach me the hardest craft of all
You can show me a bird with the wings of an angel And it shares in my summer and spring For when heads they hang heavy with thoughts’ gravitation We can switch on our nature and sing
So build me a house from the bones of the dragon And set it with blood and with lye For I hear by the songs that you teach to your children We are made of the same you and I
Chorus: Oh, there’re sober men aplenty And drunkards barely twenty There are men of over ninety That have never yet kissed a girl But give me a ramblin’ rover Frae Orkney down to Dover We will roam the country over And together we’ll face the world
I’ve roamed through all the nations In delight of all creations And enjoyed a wee sensation Where the company, it was kind And when partin’ was no pleasure I’ve drunk another measure To the good friends that we treasure For they always are in our mind
There’s many that feign enjoyment From merciless employment Their ambition was this deployment From the minute they left the school And they save and scrape and ponder While the rest go out and squander See the world and rove and wander And are happier as a rule
If you’re bent wi’ arthiritis Your bowels have got Colitis You’ve gallopin’ bollockitis And you’re thinkin’ it’s time you died If you been a man o’ action Though you’re lying there in traction You will get some satisfaction Thinkin’, “Jesus, at least I tried.”
Now in the Bible, so I’ve read, God spoke to Abraham and thus He said, “Before three days are past and gone, You must sacrifice Isaac, your beloved son.”
Chorus: Don’t despair, there’s a ram in the thicket, God is there, there’s a ram in the thicket, He hears your prayer, there’s a ram in the thicket, There’s a ram in the thicket by the grace of God
Next morning Abraham did depart With a grieving soul and an aching heart He took young Isaac by the hand But he didn’t tell his son about his God’s command
“Father, for this sacrifice I see the fire and I see the knife But where’s the ram?” young Isaac cried, “Oh, my son, God will provide”
Abraham, he bound his son, And laid him down upon the altar stone He raised the knife to do God’s command But God called, “Abraham, stay thy hand”
Abraham freed the son he loved He proved his faith in his God above And if your faith is strong and true There’s a ram in the thicket will be waiting for you
Jim Henson told them that the opening scene should feature Kermit the Frog by himself, singing and playing the banjo. Williams and Ascher wrote most of the song fairly quickly at Williams's house but got stuck trying to think of appropriate words for the part in the chorus that eventually became the phrase "the rainbow connection"; they were looking for a way to tie in the chorus to the song's theme of rainbows.
Why are there so many songs about rainbows And what’s on the other side? Rainbows are visions, but only illusions And rainbows have nothing to hide So we’ve been told, and some choose to believe it I know they’re wrong, wait and see
Chorus: Someday we’ll find it, the rainbow connection The lovers, the dreamers, and me
Who said that every wish Would be heard and answered When wished on the morning star? Somebody thought of that And someone believed it Look what it’s done so far What’s so amazing that keeps us stargazing? And what do we think we might see?
Bridge: All of us under its spell We know that it’s probably magic
Have you been half asleep And have you heard voices? I’ve heard them calling my name Is this the sweet sound That calls the young sailors? The voice might be one and the same I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it It’s something that I’m supposed to be
Nowell Sing We Clear: "Harnett Kane's Southern Christmas Book describes La Guignolee, a New Year visiting custom from French communities in Missouri. We learned this English version, The Rag Dance Song, from George and Gerry Armstrong of Chicago."
Chorus: Good evening, master and good mistress And all the good folk who live here. (x2) We’ve come to ask for mistletoe On this last day of the old year. (x2)
If you really want to please us, just say so Please feed and wine us, We only want a pig’s ear, then we’ll go, And we’ll wish you a Happy New Year.
If you really want to please us, just say so Go fetch your daughter, We only want a kiss and then we’ll go, And we’ll wish you a Happy New Year.
If you really want to please us, just say so Go grab your rag bag, We only want a rag dance, then we’ll go, And we’ll wish you a Happy New Year.
Part of Peter's Field folk opera about the Peterloo Massacre of 1819. 60,000 people walked peacefully many miles from across Lancashire and further afield to attend a mass meeting in the centre of Manchester to advocate for parliamentary reform at a time when only a tiny proportion of people had the vote. They were to be addressed by the famous radical speaker Henry 'Orator' Hunt. Local magistrates sent in soldiers to disperse the unarmed crowd and aid the arrest of the speakers. At least 18 people were killed and hundreds injured and assaulted. The magistrates and military were completely exonerated and only recently have the victims of Peterloo been properly commemorated.
Jesus was a working man he threw the merchants out And he said there’ll be a banquet, boys, for all those who have doubt ‘Cause no camel can through a needle get, quicker than any rich man But if any camel heard just what we’ve [et], then [I] might say it can Help the poor, big Jesus swore, and all your mates may wag He said share your homes and all you own, and dance in your radical rags
Big John Ball he spoke to all from hedge and field and lane When he said “God made us equal”, boys, then he got sent to jail Well the men of Kent to London went in 1381 And when the king agreed to concede they must’ve thought it won ‘Til Big John Ball got hung and drawn and fifteen hundred [stag] But now’s the time to sing his rhyme and dance in your radical rags
Winstanley he said to me, property’s a rig. So he took his spade to St. George Hill and he began to dig Well the year was 1649 the earth was theirs to share But the thugs they came and beat him there and squashed him like a prayer But in the room of reason where there’s none that can get [scrag] Winstanley’s spade got up and played, dance in your radical rags
So Old Tom Paine he took the reins and he began to sing My own mind is my own church [and then he be more king] Well an outlaw in his native land he fired like a [tench] When he went to France and won the vote even though he never spoke French And when he died, his bones got dug and carried in [covered sbag] And from inside his old bones cried, dance in your radical rags
‘Cause it’s plain we were and plain we are and plain we will remain Until this Norman yoke gets broke and we are freed from chains Where e’er they march for liberty, we’ll be at the front So now we’re off to Manchester to hear big Henry Hunt And when he takes off his white hat and waves it like a flag With ball and [pain] we’ll rise again and dance in our radical rags
Don’t you know it’s darkest before the dawn And it’s this thought keeps me moving on If we could heed these early warnings The time is now quite early morning
Some say that humankind won’t long endure But what makes them so doggone sure? I know that you who hear my singing Could make those freedom bells go ringing
And so keep on while we live Until we have no, no more to give And when these fingers can strum no longer Hand the old banjo to young ones stronger
So though it’s darkest before the dawn These thoughts keep us moving on Through all this world of joy and sorrow We still can have singing tomorrows
