When we have a great song, why would anyone want to muck around with it?
We all know that the “folk process” spreads it’s tentacles all over the place!
And so it came to pass that some “folk music fans” have deemed that one song in particular merited a review of its exclusiveness/inclusiveness. The causes of the concerns appear to be the references to “men”, and a” Christian celebration” (Easter). There have been a couple of attempts to redress the issues. I was not convinced that either of these revisions quite achieved full inclusiveness.
In so far as this process has been initiated, I took some elements from the two variations that I am aware of, and added a little of my own.

So I give you my version of a hopefully inclusive “When all men sing” now retitled“When we all sing” (thanks to Lara, singing at the Merlin’s Rest) with apologies to the original lyricist “Scowie”

NB, when sung at my folk club, it did receive a two thirds approval.


WHEN WE ALL SING (K.Scowcroft, Derek Gifford) adapted with apologies to Scowie)

When snow transforms the hedgerow thorn
And frost engilds the berry
Good people true the fire logs hew
And in the Inns make merry
When singing all as with one voice
It seems the very walls rejoice
And merriment about does spring
When we all sing

Cho: Let everyone so pitch their song
To help their neighbour sing along
To each and all contentment bring
When we all sing   .

When lambs are seen and trees turn green
Come forth in bloom the daisies
For winters end our thanks we'll send
And as snows melt sing praises
Then with a will we always long
To raise our voices loud and strong
And welcome in, the vernal spring
When we all sing

When in the fields the scythe we wield
Then hear our summer sound
Women and men their lungs employ
Their songs they echo round
Rebound from hill and roof and spire
Starting lowly building higher
So surely then our scythe will swing
When we all sing.

When leaves they fall from elm tree tall
Then every back must bend
As young and old with courage bold
Their efforts they expend
Ensuring autumn's gifts are stowed
Afore cold winter wind is blowed
Then comes an end to foraging
When we all sing .

Sing songs in season every year
Some voices sweet with others strong
Gently round ascending
With harmonies a-blending
In unison pours forth the song
Uplifting beams of Inn or Hall
And shaking plaster from the wall
When we all sing

Bradfordian