"Just before midnight one evening, Harris and I were in Central Square looking for a snack. Harris really wanted pizza, so we looked up the closest pizza-by-the-slice place and walked that direction. As we walked, we passed so many other places and I realized it would be a fun song idea. Originally the idea was that it would be a list building song, where every verse you add another snack you don't want, but I ended up going a different direction."
Late at night we’ve got the munchies (No, no, not the munchies ) We could go for something crunchy (We don’t want the munchies)
Chorus: We know what we are wanting Midnight, midnight pizza (x2)
That grilled cheese smells so delicious (No, no, not the grilled cheese) Crispy with a melty finish (We don’t want the grilled cheese)
We could stop and get some tacos…I hear they make cheesy nachos
Those burritos are so wide…meat and cheese and veg inside
We could order spicy wontons…eat em up until they’re all gone
How about some gourmet waffles…with real syrup, fake is awful
Chorus: God bless the merry little hop That brings us all good cheer For without the merry little hop We would never know strong beer We would never know strong beer
Here’s praise indeed for the barley malt From which fine whiskies come And praise indeed for the sugar in the cane From which does come brown rum And praise indeed for juniper With its berry black as sin For without the juniper tree We’d not know fiery gin.
Here’s praise indeed for the golden grape That hangs upon the vine For without the golden grape We’d not know brandy wine And praise indeed for the apples on the bow That in the autumn grow For without the apples on the bow Sweet cider we’d not know.
And so we raise our glasses high To admire that amber glow There’s not a brewer throughout the land Who’d not have us to know That the ale he brews is honest and true The finest and the best But without the merry little hop It would never pass the test
And now we’ll put our glasses down All empty to the dreg We’ll call on the landlord good and loud To tap another keg And as we watch the liquid flow And admire that glorious sound We’ll raise our glasses one more time And sing another round
In Bristol, just before the war, the tankers loomed along the shore And I would hang about the door of a shop down by the quay It was there, when I was just a lad, I took the trade I’ve always had And where the hand of my first master made its mark on me
Chorus: The Union Jack, the rose and crown, the mermaid and the swallow A dagger and an anchor, and a cock upon the knee
And when the bombers droned above we inked the names of the girls they loved In hearts, upon the hearts of oak who’d soon put out to sea
I was a little older when the war was over, even then The Navy still had need of men and so I signed aboard In engine rooms, and on the grates I plied my trade among my mates Gave them the mark they wanted most for what they could afford
Chorus
And down there, in the oily dark on arms and backs I left my mark Forever etched in indigo on sailor boys at sea
And then one day I came to land, across the western ocean I shipped out of Halifax, and sailed the inland seas And sometimes when I’d step ashore I used to take the notion That I was not as young a man as once I used to be.
Chorus
From the awning of my pitch the seaway’s like a muddy ditch As from this country fair I watch ships gliding towards the sea
And now the canvas I sail under promises a “World of Wonder” Step right up, I’ll make my mark at a price that you can pay In the dying days of August, captain in a sea of sawdust But the fancies of a sailor’s life are out of style today
Chorus
But where my shirt sleeve meets my skin I see a map of where I’ve been And where the hand of my first master made its mark on me
Awake, awake, good people all, awake and you shall hear That Christ has died all for our sins and he loveth us so dear So dearly, dearly, Chris loved us, and for our sins was slain Christ bids us leave off of wickedness and attend to The Lord again
The early cock so early crows passing the night away The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised at the great judgment day A bunch of May I’ve brought to you and at your door it stands It is but a sprout and it’s all budded out by the work of our lord’s hand
For the life of a man is but a span, He’s cut down like the flower; He makes no delay, he is here today And he’s vanished all in an hour. And when you are dead and you’re in your grave You’re covered in the cold, cold clay. The worms they will eat your flesh, good man, And your bones they will waste away.
Repent, repent you wicked old men, Don’t die before you do. And when the day of judgement comes The Lord will think on you. Now my song it is sung and I must be gone no longer can I stay God bless you all both great and small and I wish you a joyful May
Wikipedia: "Mary Fildes (c. 1789-1876) was a British social reformer and political activist. She was president of the Manchester Female Reform Society in 1819, and played a leading role at the mass rally at Manchester in that year which ended in the Peterloo massacre."
She was born in Ireland when the war with France began Her father was a working man a friend to all the poor When she married William, the bells of Stockport sweetly sang Soon there were four children marching through the door But hard times came a-calling, down the rain came falling And conditions were appalling, life was like a jail How our parents they are dying and our children they are crying And our husbands they are trying, but we must tip the scale So said…
Chorus: Mary, Mary Fildes Oh Mary, Mary Fildes
From Blackburn she heard the call, come womenfolk and stand up tall One thousand came to sign up all in Manchester one day Come sisters of the [earth] said she, then heart in hand come stand with me We’re here to reform society or we will hold our sway And from the alleys of the town, from the country all around The folk came marching to the sound of fife and drum the same And the women dressed in white serene their arms were open, hands were clean With banners high and courage keen, to Peter’s Field they came And they followed…
She rode in the carriage that her handkerchief held in the air No finer hero could compare in any fabled tale When she climbed the hustings high, she waved her banner through the sky On it was Britannia fine holding of the scale And she looked like…
"Like 'Forty-Five Years' and 'Barrett's Privateers', this song has become very much a trade mark for us. It is as close as I'll ever come to a 'song of inspiration.' It also marked what I assure you is only a temporary end to the 'Maritime Seres' of songs. May you always 'rise again'."
She went down last October in a pouring driving rain. The skipper, he’d been drinking and the Mate, he felt no pain. Too close to Three Mile Rock, and she was dealt her mortal blow, And the Mary Ellen Carter settled low. There were just us five aboard her when she finally was awash. We’d worked like hell to save her, all heedless of the cost. And the groan she gave as she went down, it caused us to proclaim That the Mary Ellen Carter would rise again.
Chorus: Rise again, rise again, that her name not be lost To the knowledge of men. Those who loved her best and were with her till the end Will make the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.
Well, the owners wrote her off; not a nickel would they spend. “She gave twenty years of service, boys, then met her sorry end. But insurance paid the loss to us, so let her rest below.” Then they laughed at us and said we had to go. But we talked of her all winter, some days around the clock, She’s worth a quarter million, afloat and at the dock. And with every jar that hit the bar, we swore we would remain And make the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.
All spring, now, we’ve been with her on a barge lent by a friend. Three dives a day in hard hat suit and twice I’ve had the bends. Thank God it’s only sixty feet and the currents here are slow Or I’d never have the strength to go below. But we’ve patched her rents, stopped her vents, dogged hatch and porthole down. Put cables to her, ‘fore and aft and girded her around. Tomorrow, noon, we hit the air and then take up the strain. And make the Mary Ellen Carter Rise Again.
For we couldn’t leave her there, you see, to crumble into scale. She’d saved our lives so many times, living through the gale And the laughing, drunken rats who left her to a sorry grave They won’t be laughing in another day And you, to whom adversity has dealt the final blow With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go Turn to, and put out all your strength of arm and heart and brain And like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.
Final Chorus: Rise again, rise again – though your heart it be broken And life about to end No matter what you’ve lost, be it a home, a love, a friend. Like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.
Melrose Quartet: "Appalachian, from the singing of Jean Ritchie via Peter Bellamy." Cecil Sharp and Maud Karpeles collected it in 1917 from Hillard Smith in Hindman, Kentucky, where Jean Ritchie also spent part of her life.
Every day we walk the harbour she would look out on the sea And as the boats would come and go she’d turn and say to me “Oh, let’s go out on the water this city I have seen The streets are loud and dirty, but the ocean’s clear and clean.”
Chorus: Oh the price we pay for living in a city by the sea Just to know we could escape if we were brave enough to leave A boat could take us anywhere we’d ever want to go When that coastline disappears, a boat’s the only home we’ll know
There’s a job out on the water aboard the Margaret Keene Three months of barely any pay for a world we’ve never seen Oh we’ll go to sea all summer come fall return to land I’ll marry her the day we dock and never part again
We stepped aboard that fishing boat one rainy morn in June We met the captain, met the crew, and set to leave at noon Oh, we sailed out from the harbour with skies so dark and grey But far from shore- the sun did soar and smile and she did say
Every day we’d cast the lines out at night we’d sleep alone Stripers never stood a chance with twenty lines in tow Oh the captain worked us harder than we’d ever worked before But each night as she was sleeping I was thinkin’ of the shore
One night as we lay sleeping the storm had found our course The Keene took water o’er the sides the waves they came in force We awoke and tied our lifelines I prayed the seas would tame I’ve never seen her smile so wide as in the wind and rain
As the summer ended, the Keene returned to land And in my coat I had a ring to put upon her hand Oh, but when I turned and saw her staring back at me I knew she’d never come to shore, nor I return to sea
"The philosophy underlying this song can be found in Homer's Odyssey. In Britain, however, it is impossible to get 100 miles from the sea."
Lord Nelson knew the perfect way to cure your ‘mal-de-mer’, So if you pay attention, his secret I will share, To any sea-sick sailor he’d give this advice for free: “If you’re feeling sea-sick, sit underneath a tree!”
Chorus: I’m marching inland from the shore, over m’ shoulder I’m carrying an oar, When someone asks me: “What – is that funny thing you’ve got?” Then I know I’ll never go to sea no more, no more, Then I know I’ll never go to sea no more!
Columbus he set-sail to find out if the world was round, He kept on sailing to the West until he ran aground, He thought he’d found The Indies but he’d found the U.S.A. I know some navigators who can still do that today.
Drake he’s in his hammock and a thousand miles away, Grenville’s Revenge is at the bottom of the bay, Many’s the famous sailor never came home from the sea, Just take my advice, Jack, come and follow me.
Sailors take a warning from these men of high renown, When you leave the ocean and it’s time to settle down, Never cast your anchor less than ninety miles from shore, There’d always be temptation to be off to sea once more.
Blue Dolphin was designed by the famous naval architect William Roue, designer of the famous racing schooner Bluenose. Sometimes called a sister ship to Bluenose, Blue Dolphin was in fact considerably smaller but reflected the overall style of Bluenose. Blue Dolphin was built for Stephen Henry Velie Jr of Kansas City, Missouri. Rogers wrote the song based on his contact with Bruce Kemp and Kemp's experiences trying to raise and restore Blue Dolphin. A few weeks after writing the song "Man with Blue Dolphin" Rogers died
It was just like him. He had to pick A boat gone from dowdy to derelict In half a dozen years Of searching for an owner She may have left her heart in the harbour mud But she really caught his at the flood And he wonders how she knew That she was waiting for a loner
Blue Dolphin, built by the Rhuland men She’s lying on the bottom again With only him to care That Bluenose had a sister He lost the house and he sold the car His wife walked out so he hit the bars And hit up every friend To raise the Blue Dolphin
Chorus: And even afloat she’s a hole in the water Where his money goes Every dollar goes And it’s driving him crazy He pounds his fists white on the dock in the night And cries, “I’m gonna win!” And licks the blood away And he’s gonna raise the Dolphin
Blue Dolphin’s lying like a wounded whale She’s hungry for a scrap of a sail To get her underway Back to salt water Now there’s a man lying spent in the winter sun He wonders what the hell he has done And who would ever pay To save his schooner daughter
