Subject: RE: Wolfe Tones: Paddy's Dream Lyric Request From: Big Mick Date: 09 Nov 04 - 10:50 AM It is from the Wolfetone's album entitled "Alive, Alive-O". I love Derek's version of this. You can "hear" the twinkle in his eye as he sings it. Great stuff!! All the best, Big Mick Lane |
Subject: RE: Wolfe Tones: Paddy's Dream Lyric Request From: ral@hotmail.com Date: 22 Apr 99 - 06:23 PM Hello, Thanks everyone for your help and thanks Brakn for posting the lyrics, it brings back fond memories :) Bas no an Bua |
Subject: RE: Wolfe Tones: Paddy's Dream Lyric Request From: Bruce O. Date: 22 Apr 99 - 06:22 PM The tune given as "Paddy's Trip from Dublin" in Howe's 'Songs of Ireland' is just "The Priest in his Boots". Versions are T014A, and B in file T1. on my website. See the Irish tune index there for other copies. |
Subject: Lyr Add: PADDY'S DREAM From: Brakn Date: 22 Apr 99 - 07:34 AM This doesn't make a lot of sense. The air is Paddy's Trip From Dublin and the spelling's not mine. Got it from an old book called "Howe's Songs of Ireland" which was published in the U.S. in 1864. PADDY'S DREAM In London one night, about three in the morning In my bed, wide awake, fast asleep, in a doze In a loud fit of yawning, I fell to laughing For love and good living disturbed my repose Thinks I to myself, I'll just sleep a bit longer Alone to enjoy this beautiful scene With eyes wide open, I slept until morning When I found it all nothing but only a dream! Spoken Och, such a vision! There was I up to me eyes in illigant pastery, up to me eyes in liquor, over my ears in love, whispering soft nonsense to Molly Astore, and singing - Fal lah lue, fal lah lue, whack fal de riddle Sing ful lah lue, ful lah lue whack ful de ray With my sprig of shillelagh, I'll sing to your fiddle To a small drop of whiskey I'll never say nay I dreamed while at home a courting sweet Molly I was eating minced pies in a pastery cook's shop And with love and good liquor was getting so jolly Had you seen me I'm sure you'd have longed for a drop Such dishes I'd swear ne'er grew in Kilkenny Or before touched the lips of poor Paudeen M'Phane Arrah troth, could I dream the same, night, noon and morning I'd never go back to Kilkenny again Spoken Och, such a dream! It's only delusion, says Molly. It was illigant eating and drinking, says I. Only let me dream such delusions always, waking and sleeping, and I'll sing - Fu ru lu philaloo, whack fal de riddle Sing wrishtrew, hubaboo, whack fal de ray With my bit of shillelagh, I'll dance to the fiddle To a drop of good whiskey I'll never say nay Next night in my bed I went soon in the morning In hopes such another sweet dream to obtain When, zounds! you'll believe me, I dream'd that old Whackem Was bringing me back to Kilkenny again So I laid me stock still, both trembling and shaking My hair stiff as pitchforks stuck out of me head 'Till the daylight appearing, I bade him good morning And swore he'd ne'er catch me afore he was dead Spoken The first wink of day brought back my courage, so I bawls giving a flourish of the alpoen, only make yourself invisible to my eyes now ansd see how soon I'll measure you for a new wig. Ah faith! I'll lend you a - Philaloo wrishtrew, whack fold de raddle Hubaboo, claraboo, now fire away With my sprig of shillelagh, I'll crack your old noddle To be wak'd from such dreaming, the devil I say Regards Mick Bracken |
Subject: Lyr Add: PADDY'S DREAM (from Wolfe Tones) From: Brakn Date: 22 Apr 99 - 07:02 AM This is the best I can make of it. There is an old song called Paddy's Dream that I'll post up later. Regards Mick Bracken PADDY'S DREAM (from Wolfe Tones) Once upon a time, I was invited by an old friend of mine To come over to his residence and taste his beer and wine Well we ate lobster salad and lots of other truck And we drank each other's health until the hour of three had struck Well we drank until we didn't know which was wine or beer That our heads felt rather heavy, and my brains not very clear Well how I got home that night, I don't really know, my prayers I think I said, But anyhow, I was paralysed when I got into bed Well I died and I went to heaven, I found that repentance was now for me too late When suddenly I was ushered before the golden gates "Well what do you want?" says Peter, "don't you know you cant get in? For you must surely suffer, that greedy glutton's sin" Then I turned aside and said no more, and turned my head in shame And Peter's clerk, he's stood close by and he wrote, Lost, against my name Well next came an Italian, one who I knew very well So I stopped and I listened patiently, to the story he might tell "Ah da good da father Saint Pedro, I come a to you a at last My peanut days are over, my banana nights are pasta I treat my neighbour like a myself, no begs no robs no steal I never run a da sidewalks, I throwa mya banana da peel" "When you got out", says Peter, "your gains were ill begotten Your peanut shells were empty, your bananas, oft times rotten" Well the Italian turned aside, and a tear was in his eye He came and stood behind me, and heaved a heavy sigh Well next came an aged Hebrew, with a satchel in his hand And before the gate of old St. Peter, the Hebrew stood his stand "Ah the good father Peter, I vill tell you what ve'll do I've got jewellery fit for hangels, I vill hauction off to you I could sell them on the instalment plan, but that would be a sin So, I will give them to you for half price, if you vill let me in On earth I keep a clothing store, my goods are nice and strong And to show you, I have an over coat, I forgets to bring along "Are you deluded well", says Peter, "for very well you know There's little use for overcoats, where you will have to go" Well the Hebrew turned aside, and as he was a friend of mine Just like me and all the rest, he took his place in line Well next came an old maid from England, one bound to have her way So she began addressing Peter, in this most peculiar way "Oh goodness gracious me, here I am after gossiping many a year So open the gate and let me in, I'm catching cold out here And give me a first class pair of wings, a silver shield and then I won't be afraid of those naughty naughty men "No" Peter answered bluntly "no angels have grey hair And as you have no sons or daughter, you'd be a stranger there" Well the poor old maid wilted, she must ever more opine And just like me and all the rest, she waddled into line Well next came poor Paddy, a son of Erin's Isle And he greeted old St Peter with a very gracious smile "Ha ha, it's yourself, St Peter, looking so nice and sweet So get yer clerk to let me in and show me to me seat" "Hold" cried Peter "your case like all the rest must first be tried And you will have to show a passport, before you get inside" "Fer Jasus sake St Peter, or for supper I'll be late" So poor Paddy, he took of his little ould cap, and he threw it inside the gate "Go get thy hat" says Peter, "thou sacrilegious lout" So poor Paddy he went, and he slammed the gate, and he locked St Peter out Then, then through the keyhole, loud he cried, "Ya ha ha me boyo, I'm the master now yer see But I'll give up heaven the gate and the crown If you'll set the Six Counties free Well then I awoke, and found that my head was between the bed and the wall The sheets were all tangled round my feet 'twas the beer that did it all |
Subject: RE: Wolfe Tones: Paddy's Dream Lyric Request From: Frank of Toledo Date: 21 Apr 99 - 09:25 PM I have a couple of the older Wolftones allbums (that's right vinyl], and on one of them "Let the People Sing", there's a song called Paddy Lie back. It was recorded on Dolphin Records in 1972. If you think this could be the one, let me know and I'll crank the old turntable up get the words for you. |
Subject: Wolfe Tones: Paddy's Dream Lyric Request From: ral@hotmail.com Date: 21 Apr 99 - 08:12 PM Hello, I am also trying to find what the words are to Paddy's Dream. Now I have no other title than that, but the Wolfe Tones sung it at one of their concerts. It is about a fellow who dreams of all these people visiting St. Peter trying to get into Ireland. The last one is Paddy, who tricks St. Peter and then locks St. Peter out. Paddy then says he'll give up heaven, the gate, and the crown if St. Peter will set the 6 counties free. I know this isn't a lot to go on, but I've been thinking of this for nearly a year, any help would be appreciated. Thanks, |
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