Subject: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: GUEST,Open Mike Date: 15 Jan 19 - 07:18 PM Peggy Seeger: A Life of Music, Love, and Politics https://books.google.com › books No Place For Me... A song whose lyrics Iowa's looking for with referencecto cormorants... Now I cannot find the original question... Itcwas asked online... On facebook.. And one reply suggested asking on Mudcat. I goggled the song lyrics from the post andpromptky list the link. Anyway perhaps someone has something tobadopt.. Apoarently there is or was a BBC program featuring folk musicians and lyrics.... |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: GUEST Date: 15 Jan 19 - 08:26 PM This is the lyric: On a rock on the shore is a cormorant's dwelling, the wild warbling blackbird has its nest in the tree. The birds of the sky and the fish of the ocean, Each has its own place, but there's no place for me. |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: Amergin Date: 15 Jan 19 - 08:42 PM It's in The Essential Ewan MacColl Songbook: Sixty Years of Songmaking, at least according to a search. Hopefully some one will have the book and be able to type in the lyrics. |
Subject: ADD: There's No Place for Me (Ewan McColl) From: GUEST Date: 16 Jan 19 - 12:19 AM It's only one more verse: There's No Place for Me (1964, The Travelling People) THERE'S NO PLACE FOR ME (Ewan MacColl) On a rock on the shore is the cormorant's dwelling, The wild warbling blackbird has its nest in the tree-- The birds of the sky and the fish of the ocean, Each has its own place--but there's no place for me. The fox has its lair and the rabbit its burrow, The set for the badger, the hive for the bee-- The weasel, the hare, the mole and the martin, Each has its own shelter--but there's no place for me. |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song No Place From: GUEST,Bob Blair Date: 16 Jan 19 - 03:00 AM Written by MacColl as a integral part of Radio Ballad “The Travelling People”. Really has to be listened to as part of the whole, especially “.The Terror Time” song. I find I cannot divide that sequence into individual songs, and actuality Ewan was suffering from a cold when he recorded this, the last of the Radio Ballads, and an attempt was made to overdub his voice for the original Argo LP Well worth listening to even 55 years later. Enjoy it! Bob Blair |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: leeneia Date: 18 Jan 19 - 10:22 AM Hi, Open Mike. It's nice to see you back. Did the lyrics posted above answer your question about the cormorant? I hope so. |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: Jim Carroll Date: 18 Jan 19 - 10:36 AM "It's only one more verse:" I think there are more Where will I go to, where will I run now that the work is done ...... Now the Terror time is come Hi Bob - help me out There are still more Jim Carroll |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: Jim Carroll Date: 18 Jan 19 - 10:44 AM THere yis go THE TERROR TIME (1964, The Travelling People) Winter. . . that’s ... the terror time. No place to go nor doesn’t know where to go. Doesn’t know any place to go and sit. And it doesn’t matter whether it’s snowing or blowing,you’ve got to go. —Maggie Cameron, Inverness Traveller, recorded in a bow-tent at Cookson’s field, Alyth, Perthshire, Scotland, 1964 alternative title: “The Winter (sung by Joe Heaney and by Elisabeth and Jane Stewart The heather will fade and the bracken will die, Streams will run cold and clear. And the small birds will be going, And it’s then you will be knowing That the terror time is near. Whaur will ye turn, noo, whaur will ye bide Noo that the wark’s a’ done? For the fairmer doesna need ye And the council winna heed ye, And the terror time has come. The woods give no shelter, the trees they are bare, Snow falling all around. And the children they are crying And the bed in which they’re lying Is frozen to the ground. The snaw winna lift and the stove winna draw, There’s ice in the water churn; In the mud and snaw you’re sloshing Trying to do a bit o’ washing, And the kindling winna burn. Needing the warmth of your own human kind, You move near a town, but then Well, the sight of you’s offending And the police they soon are sending— And you’re on the road again. “There was about three foot of snow and would you believe that I had to pull down that tent among that snow. And when I come foment the police office in Auchterarder, the horse fell. The horse fell down and the two policemen came out with their fingers in their tunics like that and commenced to sneer and laugh. “My word, ” I says, “you two men has something to laugh at. ” “Get that up,” he says, “andget the bleezes out of here.” —Sandy Cameron, Inverness Traveller, 1962 |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: Joe_F Date: 19 Jan 19 - 06:25 PM And Jesus saith unto him, The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head. ---Matthew 8:10 |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: Jim Carroll Date: 20 Jan 19 - 11:02 AM And Jesus said to his followers, "Come forth, but they came fifth" J.C. |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: ollaimh Date: 11 Nov 19 - 06:17 PM too bad he didn't write a verse for gaels for whom he had no place, and in fact stole the name of one of their last traditional bards. jimmy miller was this phony's name. he was from manchester. the real ewan naccoll was the lasty of the traditional gaelic bards who wrote and sangs traditional gaelic music to the wire strung traditional gaelic harp. |
Subject: RE: Answer to question @ Ewan McColl song From: GUEST,matt milton Date: 15 Aug 24 - 06:57 AM adapted this for an afternoon folk session of eco and nature songs recently - mainly by putting it in the past tense! No Place To Be A rock on the shore was the cormorant's dwelling, The warbling blackbird built its nest in the tree-- The birds of the sky and the fish of the ocean, Each had its own place - now there's no place to be. The fox made its lair and the rabbit its burrow, A set for the badger, a hive for the bee-- The weasel, the hare, the mole and the martin, Each had its own shelter - now there's no place to be. |
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