The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #55150   Message #915486
Posted By: Genie
21-Mar-03 - 02:02 PM
Thread Name: Mudcat CD Plum: Liner Notes PermaThread
Subject: Mudcat CD Plum: Printable Liner Notes
Here are the composite notes that we have so far for Plum. The lyrics for all songs are included, as well as most of the authorship and performer credits. If there are errors or omissions, please notify me or Lin from Kansas. Thanks,


                                 Mudcat CD Sampler: Plum
1.  Doc's Guitar    (Doc Watson)    1:45         JustaPicker - guitar
2.  The Antediluvians Were All Very Sober  (words: Benjamin Franklin, 1745; tune: trad.)  1:30
       MMario (Leo Pola) - vocals

I have no idea whether or not the "Derry Down" I used to sing this is even similar to that which
Franklin may have envisaged - but it fit.  This was recorded in the sanctuary of a church---
an interesting experience in itself! - MMario

The Antediluvians were all very sober, / For they had no Wine, and they brew'd no October;
All wicked, bad Livers, on Mischief still thinking,
For there can't be good Living where there is not good Drinking.  Derry down

 'Twas honest old Noah first planted the Vine, / & mended his Morals by drinking its Wine;
 He justly the drinking of Water decry'd;
 For he knew that all Mankind, by drinking it, dy'd.  Derry down.

 From this Piece of History plainly we find / That Water's good neither for Body or Mind;
 That Virtue and Safety in Wine-bibbing's found
 While all that drink Water deserve to be drown'd.  Derry down

 So For Safety and Honesty put the Glass 'round.
 3.  White Snow Of The Springtime   (McGrath of Harlow [Kevin McGrath])    4:28
         Vocals: Áine (Anne Cooke) and Layne Cooke; Instrumentals: Layne Cooke Áine's photos
         (with dear hubby, Layne)

Here's a link to it on my website nbsp;, and here are the
words as I sing them... . There's a repeat in Áine's arrangement; otherwise it's pretty well the
same.   Except that I sing it in the  chorus as "Strength to us all" more often than not.   And sometimes
its "hands joined together" rather than "hearts".   But I like it either way.      (From McGrath's website:
"This is a song that started with a physical image, of a cherry tree in my garden, & which has taken
on a load of meanings for me--mostly to do with events in Ireland,& with Easter.   Especially the
Easter of the Good Friday agreement.   But it can apply to other conflicts as well.  ...  It's weird
sometimes how reality follows images.   My "white snow" was fallen cherry blossom.   But as they
came out from negotatiating the deal on Good Friday, the pictures on the TV showed them
standing in falling snow, real snow."  -  Kevin McGrath  (

               G                              C                  G
  Well, it came like some Angel before we could know.
                C             G           Em               D
  Now the blossom is fallen, it's gone like the snow.
          G                                  C               G
  The blossom is fallen, now the white tree is green -
                  C          G                    C            D
  When the summer is over there'll be fruit to be seen.
                Em             D                    C             G
      White snow of the springtime, new hope once again,
          C            G             C          G    D
      Peace* to us all, till we meet here as friends,
               C                     D            G  C  G  Em
      With hearts** joined together, for all that is done -
        C    D    G             C    G    D   G
      Peace ever after, from here and now on.

Now it's time to remember the lessons we learn
As we walk down this road, on which there's no return.
Skies that are cloudy, the grass that is green, We carry them with us, those sights we have seen.   Cho.

No greater love could a man ever show / Than to lay down his dreams for his friends and his foes.
Now and for ever, to stretch out those hands, / Peace to the peoples of these troubled lands         Cho.

* or "Strength"                                                          ** or "hands"
4.  A Waltz For You    (written by Frank & Barbara Shaw, ©1999)  2:10
     Shoregrass (Barbara Shaw - (guitar, vocals;  Frank Shaw - banjo, vocals; Larry Rothermel
    - fiddle; Paul Pozzi - mandolin, vocals; Louis Audette - bass)  - on their CD "In Connecticut"

      Frank originally wrote the first verse of this song to Barbara.  She collaborated on the second
    verse by paraphrasing a stanza from Thomas
Gray's "Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard."      

  A waltz for you to listen to, the sweetest one I know.
  I want to make your ears feel good, because I love you so,
  And maybe I can make you laugh and maybe tap your toe.
  A waltz for you to listen to, the sweetest one I know.

  Many a gem the oceans bear of purest ray serene,
  And many a flower will bloom and grow in the desert, sight unseen.
  Some love songs, dear, may go unheard; this one will not be so.
  A waltz for you to listen to, the sweetest one I know.
5.  Gently Down The Stream Of Time   (Trad.)       3:05
       Kendall (Morse) - vocals & instrumentals

Gently down the stream of time floats our barque toward the sea.
Sweetly peals the evening chime.  Hear it echo loud and free.\
Friends are gone, ties have been broken,  Fears and doubts and hopes of life,
Callous words so idly spoken  lie sleeping 'neath the stream of time. (x2)

Over all that golden shore  Forms unseen are chanting low.
Strains we loved in days of yore,  Memories of long ago,
Voices now are hushed forever;  Tears and flowers strew their grave,
And this mighty rushing river buries all beneath its wave. (x2)
6.  From The Heart  (Harvey Andrews © 19??)  4:56
      Harvey Andrews - vocals, guitar

He'd an old fashioned way when he started to play,  /  He'd an old fashioned steel guitar.
With no amps and no leads it fulfilled all his needs,  /  & together they'd both traveled far.
Just an old troubadour on an old barroom floor,  /  Just an old troubador and his song,
But it tore them apart 'cause it came from his heart  /  & they'd not heard that art for so long.

Then a kid playing pool said, "This old man's a fool!  / He's not cool, just a ghoul past his prime!"
 So he walked to the wall where the jukebox stood tall  /  & he paid for some hits of the time.
Then a girl passed him by with a look in her eye  /  That said, "Don't even try to oppose!"
Pulled the plug from the wall, said "An ass needs a stall,  /  & we all hope you've got one of those."

She stood her ground.   She stared him down. / The kid raised a fist, then he smiled.
He said, "You're wasted on him."  Then he turned with a grin / & said, "Girls like you drive me wild!
You're young enough to be the old man's child!"

When the kid left the room, a chord filled the gloom  /  & a voice sang a song for the stars,
For the breeze in the trees, for nights such as these,  /  & for girls who find lovers in bars.
And when the chord died, like a wave on the tide,  /  Like the cry from a high flying bird,
He put down his guitar, she said, "I've got my car  / & a jar if you just say the word."

So that old troubadour left that old barroom floor,  /  Yes, that old troubador sang her song,
And it tore her apart 'cause it came from his heart  /  & she'd not felt that art for so long!

Repeat verses 1 and 2, then:
Yes it tore them apart, 'cause it came from his heart  /  & they'd not felt that art for so long.
7.  Braes Of Yarrow  (The Dewy Dells Of Yarrow)    Child #214 as sung by Belle
       Richards, of Colebrook, NH 1941 for the Flanders collection
)   3:04
     Margmac (Margaret MacArthur) - vocals and ??

"O, sister I can read your dream,  /  Read it in grief and sorrow.
Your true love, John, he lies dead & gone  /  In the Dewy Dells of Yarrow.

She wrung her hands & tore her hair  /  In mortal grief & sorrow.
She tore a blue ribbon from off her hair  /  That she had received in Yarrow.
Then up the hills & down the dales  /  & through the stream so narrow,
And there she found her true love, John,  /  Lying dead & gone in Yarrow.

Her hair it was three quarters long,  /  The color it was yellow.
She tied it round his middle so small  /  &  she bore him home from Yarrow.
"Oh, daughter dear," her father cried,  /  "Why mourn in grief & sorrow?
I can wed you to a much nobler man  /  Than the one you loved in Yarrow."

"O, father, dear, you have seven sons.  /  You can wed them all tomorrow,
But the fairest flower that blooms in June  /  Is the one I loved in Yarrow."
8.  Follow Me Up to Carlow    (Patrick J. McCall) / The Swallowtail  (trad.)      3:36
      Big Mick, with The Conklin Ceili Band

This song recounts the Battle of Glenmalure that occurred on the 25th of August 1580, in
County Wicklow.   Tom Verlin, who plays mandolin on this version, came up with the idea of
using "The Swallowtail" for the breaks and to end the song.   The fit was a natural. - Big Mick

Lift Mac Cahir Oge your face, brooding o'er the old disgrace
That black Fitzwilliam stormed your place and drove you to the fern.
Grey said victory was sure, soon the firebrand he'd secure
Till he met at Glenmalure with Fiach Mac Hugh O'Byrne.

Curse and swear, Lord Kildare!  Fiach will do what Fiach will dare.
Now Fitzwilliam have a care, fallen is your star low.
Up with halberd, out with sword.  On we go, for, by the Lord,
Fiach Mac Hugh has given his word. Follow me up to Carlow.

See the swords of Glen Imall a-flashing o'er the English pale.
See all the children of the Gael beneath O'Byrne's banner.
Rooster of a fighting stock would yet let a Saxon cock
Crow out upon an Irish rock, fly up and teach him manners.              Chorus

Now from Saggart to Clonmore flows a stream of Saxon gore,
And great is Rory Oge O'More at sending loons to Hades.
White is sick and Grey is fled, now for black Fitzwilliam's head,
We'll send it over, dripping red, to Liza and her ladies.                            Chorus
9.   Star Of The County Down (Reprise)    (trad. Irish)    5:19
Ten Penny Bit (Robin Loeffler [Robin2] - hammered dulcimer; Bob Loeffler - bouzouki & guitar;
Mark Cannon - fiddle, tenor banjo, tin whistle; Todd Morgan - fiddle; Sonny Prentice - dobro,
mandolin & guitar; Blue Murphy - upright bass.
You can get Ten Penny Bit's CDs at                  

Near to Banbridge Town, in the County Down / One morning last July,
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen, / And she smiled as she passed me by;
She looked so sweet from her two bare feet / To the crown of her nut-brown hair,
Such a winsome elf, I'd to shake myself / To see she was really there.

Chorus: From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay, / And from Galway to Dublin town,
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen / I met in the County Down.

As she onward sped, so I shook my head / And I looked with a feeling rare,
And I said, says I, to a passer-by, / "Who's that maid with the nut-brown hair?"
He smiled at me, and he says to me, / "She's the gem on Ireland's crown,
Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann, / She's the Star of the County Down."

At the harvest fair she'll be surely there / And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
With my hat tucked right, & my shoes shown bright / & all for my nut-brown Rose.
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke, / Though my plow with rust turns brown,
Till a smiling bride by me own fireside / Sits the Star of the County Down.
10.  The Cute Little Girl With The Shimmy In Her Pants  (W. & M.  by Reggie Miles © 1988)  2:51
       (Reggie Miles: vocals, guitar; Jack Cook: resophonic guitar; Hugh Sutton: accordion)

 The Cute Little Girl With The Shimmy In Her Pants is from the CD "Reggie Miles With Ham Gravy/
At The Crossroads" & is a Stray Dog
Productions label project.   It is a collection of songs gleaned
from a live performance featuring Jack Cook on electric & resophonic guitars &
 Hugh Sutton on
accordions & piano backing me whilst I sing& play a few on my razor sharp hand tool (my musical
saw), my Nobro (my
homemade resophonic bottleneck slide guitar) & my venerable flat top 6 string. 
Two of the songs included feature me backing Jack with
my 1929 Maytag Custom Dixie Delta Deluxe
Eldorado Rhythm Board (my washboard/sound effects gizmo), harmonica & vocal harmonies.

This is a song about true love, found.  You know, when you find true love it's not something you can
easily forget.   I remember it vividly, like it
was yesterday.   I was playing music with this funky jug
band at a local watering hole.  When I first set foot in the place I was surprised to see,
that with just
the jukebox cranked up, the dance floor was full of dancers.  But, among all the dancers there, she
stood out.   It was just as
though a giant beacon of light was shining on her.   I think it might've had
something to do with the way she danced.  You see, she danced as
 though she had no internal
skeletal structure.   I don't know if you've ever seen this before or not.   It's kind of like
earthworms on a hot plate, or a
bowl  full of  Jello-- on springs.   I couldn't help myself.   I fell in
love.  I dubbed her "the girl with the shimmy in her pants" and I wrote this song
 about her.
I know a girl who loves to dance. / She likes to shake and shimmy her blouse and pants.
Oh, how I'd like a chance at love & romance with her!

Every night at the cabaret, / I watch her swing & sway her blues away,
And I pray for the day that can be partners with her.

But every boy in town has the same damn dream as me.
How do I stand a chance at love & romance, / With the cute little girl with the shimmy in her pants?

I've got to make my move, make it quick, / Before I get the short end of the stick.
If I hesitate, I might lose. / It's time to shine my dancin' shoes.

I know a girl who loves to dance. /  She likes to shake & shimmy her pots & pans.
Oh, how I'd like a chance at love & romance with her!

Every night at the cabaret, / I like to swing and sway my blues away,
And I pray for the day that I can be partners with her.

But every single male, for miles around, /  They're all standin' in a big long line.
They're beggin', "Baby, please," on bended knees, "Honey won't you be mine?"

But all those guys, they're too late, /  'Cuz tonight I pick her up at eight.
I got a date, with love & romance, / & the cute little girl with the shimmy in her pants.
I got a big date;  I can't be late, / With the cute little girl with the shimmy at eight.
Ah, love!
11.   Tant Que Vivray    Text: Clément  Marot  (1496-1544); M: Claudin de Sermisy (c. 1490-1562) 
       2:40    Touchwood (Kate Andrews, Christina Mimmocchi [Callie] & Terry Clinton - vocals;
        Terry Clinton - lute)           Touchwood is a Sydney-based vocal trio whose eclectic tastes have
        carried them through several centuries of song.   The trio's rich vocal harmonies are augmented
       at  times by lute, vihuela (reconstruction of a Renaissance guitar) & guitar.   Repertoire includes
        Early music, folk from around the globe and originals.   A most unusual inclusion is a Tom Waits
        song played on Renaissance guitar.


    This song was first published in Paris in 1528, then reprinted, copied by hand & sung all over
    Europe for the next century and more.
 The song:  A joyous celebration of love:
   "While I am in my prime I will serve the great God of love in deed & word & harmonious song... ."

  1.   Tant que vivray en age florissant, / Je serviray d'amours le dieu puissant,
  En faictz, en dictz, en chansons et accordz. / Par plusieurs fois m'a tenu languissant,
  Mais après deuil m'a fait rèjouissant, / Car j'ay l'amour de la belle au gent corps.
  Son alliance, c'est ma fiance; / Son coeur est mien, le mien est sien.
  Fy de tristesse!  Vive liesse, / Puis qu'en amour, puis qu'en amour
  J'ai tant de bien! / Puis qu'en amour, puis qu'en amour / J'ai tant de bien!

  2.    Quand je la veulx servir et honorer, / Quand par escript veulx son nom dècorer,
  Quand je la veoy et visite souvent / Ses envieux n'en font que murmurer;
  Mais nostre amour n'en scauroit moins durer / Autant ou plus en emporte le vent.
  Maulgré envie, toute ma vie / Je l'aimeray et chanteray;
  C'est la premiëre, c'est la derniëre, / Que j'ay servie, que j'ay servie et serviray.
  Que j'ay servie, que j'ay servie et serviray.
 (English translation)
  1.    So long as I am in my prime / I will serve the great god of love,
  In deeds and words and harmonious song. / Often he has left me to languish
  But, after sorrow, has brought joy, / For I am loved by a beauty with a splendid body.
  We are betrothed, she is my fiancee. / Her heart is mine and mine is hers.
  Away with sadness!  Long live gladness, / For in love, for in love there is so much good,
  For in love, for in love there is so much good!
 2.    When I wish to serve and honour her, / When I wish to write in praise of her name,
  When I see her and visit her often, / The envious only gossip;
  But our love will endure such things, / For, as long as the winds blow,
  Despite envy, all my life / I shall love her, and I will sing;
  She is the first, she is the last / That I serve, that I serve and will ever serve,
  That I serve, that I serve and will ever serve.
12.   Green Fields of Amerikay  (aka The Green Fields of Canada
           (Traditional, adapted by Alice Flynn) 3:25
          Alice (Alice  Flynn),  unaccompanied voice - Alice Flynn, ART & MUSIC            email:

This song has been recorded as Green Fields of Canada, notably by Paddy Tunney on Folk Legacy
Records.  When I recorded this song, it was shortly after the events of September 11.   I learned the
song with my own adaptations.   I was thinking of how my grandfather & his family came from
Ireland to New York on a ship in the1880's.   I changed the first line to: "I'm bound for New York to
the fair land of freedom...".

When my great grandfather Peter Flynn decided to move his family from County Leitrim to a
homestead in Minnesota, he knew they would never be able to return.   In the detailed memoirs
written by my great-aunt Alice Flynn Tucker regarding the emigration, she writes in part,
"Peter Flynn loved Ireland with the passion of an Irish patriot, but he saw the futility of revolt &
found support in the warnings of their parish priest, Father McGuire: 'Ireland has never gained
anything through the shedding of blood' -- words still only too true.
 ... We went by train from
Glenfarne to Belfast... In Belfast, where we stayed overnight, the hotelkeeper said he would give
us the best  meal that could be gotten, for it was the last one we would get in dear old Ireland.
We took a train to Larne and went up the gang plank from land to vessel, the 'State of Georgia'...
The fog horn blew almost  incessantly and the going was slow because of the icebergs... After
eleven days on the ship, everyone was glad to see the shores of the USA....We came West  on
an immigrant train & for a distance along the shores of Lake Erie... When he [father] met  us at
St. Paul, we didn't recognize him at first,  for he wore a full beard since he hadn't shaved since
he came to Minnesota in the fall of 1880.   We all cried at meeting him... I remember the many
meadowlarks & how beautifully they sang -- and there were small white flowers everywhere."

(The descriptions of leaving Ireland &  going to Minnesota & their life there are very detailed,
so I have had to edit  out  some of her charming memories.

I'm bound for New York, to the fair land of freedom, / Farewell to the colleens of Ireland around,
May your hearts be as merry as ever I could wish them, / When far away 'cross the ocean I'm bound.

What matter to me where my bones they be buried, If in peace and contentment I can spend my life,
Oh the green fields are growing, they daily are blooming.  It's there I will find no misery or strife.

Then pack up your seastores and tarry no longer, / Ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay,
With no taxes nor tithes to devour up your wages, / When you're on the green fields of Amerikay.

The sheep run unshorn & the land's gone to rushes, / The handyman's gone & the winders of creels,
Away 'cross the ocean go journeymen tailors, / & the fiddlers who played out the old mountain reels.

And I mind the time when old Ireland was flourishing,
When lots of her tradesmen could work for good pay,
But since our manufacturies have crossed the Atlantic, / It's now we must follow to Amerikay.

And now to conclude and to finish my story, / If ever friendless Irishman could chance on my way,
With the best in the house I will treat him and gladly, / At my home on the green fields of Amerikay.
13.   Tweed's Mudcatwimmen Blues   (composed, played & sung by Tweed)  3:11

 [This song] was crafted under great duress & hardship as I haven't sat down to write one for a
couple years  & Amos was after me for an original & the original "Traditional" submissions turned
out to be owned by young entrepreneurs who scarf  up all the old blues songs for personal gain.  It
was recorded while sitting in this very chair using an Elvis mic laid in a cigar box with the lid set
precisely at a 45° angle to capture the Fender 2x12 Blues Deville amplified tones of my trusty old
Telecaster.   The beautiful vocals have been preserved using a Shure 57, which was carefully taped
to a box of Christmas Lites to elevate it closer to my head, since my boom stand has evidently been
permanently borrowed.    (I snapped this .. to illustrate my extreme low-end recording technique with the
cigarbox/ElvisMic.  ... Notice that I've upgraded somewhat from the old Dutch Masters container
& the quality of sound reproduction is noticably increased.)
Habana Microphone Box with Crown Royale Bag Damper:>

The recording device is a cassette tape deck, whose only redeeming
features are two mic inputs instead of the usual none.   It also has a Dolby noise reduction button,
but I don't think it was activated, since the song is mostly comprised of noise.
  As for the song...
I've been hanging around the new Chatroom lately & risking life & limb to climb in the cyber
Jacuzzi with the resident  Sirens who make that  their lair & used that  for inspiration.   This one
goes out to Mz.Sorchy,  Liz,  Lyrical Lady, Noreen, catsPHiddle, & all the rest  of  you luscious
babes in the MudCat hot  tub.   The Moet's on me!

 My woman is so mean, she won't talk to me today,  (x2)
 I'll find a Mudcat Woman,  /  Just to while my time away.

 O...don't you hear her when she moans?  (x2)
 When I'm out on this machine,  /  She can't use her telephone.

 The clock is straight up Midnight, and the bell begins to toll. (x2)
 I sit at this old computer  /  Lookin' for someplace to go.

 The letters on my keyboard is worn and fadin' fast. (x2)
 I strike 'em most ferocious... /  I can tap 'em pretty fast.

 My traffic ain't so heavy; I can't say the reason why.  (x2)
 I think I'll check into the Mudcat,  /  Just to see what I can find.
           (Repeat 1st verse.)
14.   Wait Till The Clouds Roll By   (W: J.T. Wood; M: H.J. fulmer (1884) 
             Last  verse: Bob Coltman)
      3:40                                Mudlark  (Nancy Ross) - 
 Vocal,  guitar

 I first heard this sung by Cathy Barton & Dave Para in a tiny coffee house in San Luis Obispo, CA,
a long way from their home.   I fell in love  with the lilting melody & the inherent simplicity &
innocence of the lyrics.   After this CD came out,  Bradfordian sent me another verse he'd come upon.  
(He was unsure of most of the words in the second line, so I took the liberty of filling them in myself).

Jenny, my own true loved one, I'm going far away
Out on the bounding billows, out on the deep blue sea.
How I will miss you, my darling, there where the storms rage on high!
Cheer up and don't be lonely.  Wait till the clouds roll by

 Chorus:   Wait till the clouds roll by, Jenny, Wait till the clouds roll by.
                 Jenny, my own true loved one, Wait till the clouds roll by.

 And, Jenny, when far from thee, love, I'm on the ocean deep,
 Each thought of thee forever loving, sweet vigil keep.
 Then I will come to you, my darling.  Take courage, dear, never cry.
 Cheer up and don't be lonely.  Wait till the clouds roll by.                 Chorus

  And Jenny, a star's above you, shines in your cabin door,
  Sparkles to say I love you afar where the billows blow.
  My arms enfold you, my darling.  Never you pine, dear, or cry.
  Cheer up and don't be lonely.  Wait till the clouds roll by.                   Chorus
And, Jenny, I'll carry your image within my heart so true,
Each thought of mine forever, still love, shall be with you,
So dry up your teardrops, my darling.  Soon will the night of sorrow fly.
So cheer up and don't be lonely.  Just wait till the clouds roll by.    
15.   Willie Moore     (trad)  3:18
          Art Thieme - vocals,  guitar (?)

A grand old traditional song from the Ozark Mountains of Missouri & Arkansas (USA). The strange
momenclature & phrases like "Willie Moore was a king"---- "I will not tell you his name in full
but his initials are  J.R.G."----"This song was writ  in the south Middle West  by a man known only
to me"----make it a strange enigma of a song that has always grabbed my attention.   Is it about murder?
Or is it about suicide?   Or maybe just an unfortunate drowning in a shallow little stream?
Jones used the tune to "Willy Moore"  for the Child ballad, "Lord Thomas & Fair Ellender. 
Also, it's sort of a version of ROMEO AND JULIET's story (maybe)!?   -  Art Thieme

Willie Moore was a king, his age was 21. /  He courted a damsel fair.
Well, her eyes were as bright as the stars in the night, / And wavin' soft was her hair.

Well, he courted her all the night and all the day / Till to marry they both did agree,
But when they went to get her parents' consent, / They said that it never could be.

Well, she threw herself into Willie Moore's arms, / As oft times she had done before,
But little did he think when they parted that night / Fair Annie he would see no more.

It was on about the sixth day of June, / A day I remember quite well,
It was on the very day that her body disappeared, / In a way that no tongue can tell.

Fair Annie was loved both far and wide, / Had friends come from all around,
And in the little brook beside the cabin door, / The body of fair Annie was found.

Now her parents, they both did mourn for her; / One moans while the other one weeps,
And in a little hill beside the cabin door / The body of fair Annie sleeps.

Willie Moore soon did leave that county, so they say, / From there he soon did depart,
And the last word I heard he was in Montr?al, / Where he died of a broken heart.

Now, this song was writ in the south middle west / By a man known only to me.
Well, I cannot tell you his name in full;/ His initials they are J.R.G.       (Repeat 1st verse.)
16.   Arthur And Sally   (written & sung by Bobert [Bob Harrison]) 3:37

"The song is based on a real cemetery that I indeed found back in the woods in Spotsylvania
County& my son, Ben, &  I are the only folks that  I  know of who can find it.   I go once a year,
take a rake, lopping shears& a saw & clean it up.   It kills off an entire day, since its a 2-hour
drive down there & another hour's walk thru some of the thickest  woods."  ?  Bobert

In the backwoods of Spotsylvania / A gravesite can be found,
Rustin' iron gate and two carved stones, / Read "Arthur and Sally Brown."

Now, Arthur and Sally / Back in the pines / Share croppin' tenants / With dreams on their minds

Now, we ain't talkin' no trips to China, / No mansion on the hill.
Just forty acres of Virginia soil / And a little corn liquor still

Yeah, the corn grew full and, oh, so tall, / And the wood did Arthur split,
But not outside the kitchen, / But down by the crick

With the crops all in he'd be back in the woods, / Smoke snakin' thru the oak,
Brewin' shine that'd find its time / On tables of city folk.

Now they're lyin' over on yonder ridge, / Been there since '33,
And since, there ain't been no shine so fine / In this old county.

Yeah, they're lying over on yonder ridge, / Been there since '33,
And since, there ain't been no shine so fine / In Spotsylvanee. / Yeah, this old county.
17.   Jesus In The Clouds     (Composed & sung by Giac (Mary Giacomini)   4:51
       Jesus In The Clouds is not a religious song, but in a way, it's spiritual.  It's about, um, eccentric
     women who live alone, just a bit off to the side
of the road.   All the women described are, or were,
     real.   I know them all & I'm in there, too.  When it gets really cold, I always hope they
have a
     warm place to stay.   The words fell out in rapid order on just such a cold night a few years ago.

She saw Jesus in some clouds in Oklahoma,  /  And Elvis crossing Texas on a train.
She sees her Mama's face in every flower.   /  She keeps her fingers crossed and prays for rain.

      The voices, she says, are all around us, / It won't be long till Mama calls us home.
      Daddy, he won't care if you come with me, /  But I'll ask him, if you want, next time he phones.

 She picks up strays like goats and dogs and kittens,   /  Who go with her across the country wide
 In a wagon pulled by two old bay mares,  /  But they always make it home by wintertime.

 When she was young, she heard of Ferlinghetti, /  With his junked out men and naked horseback queens.
 She saw him and Rexroth in some cellar,  /  And it led her stifled mind to Manisfree.

 She has a cabin down along the river, /  And says a spaceship landed in her yard.
 Aliens talk to her in the popcorn,  /  They tell her why her years go by so hard.

 She has her pride and won't accept a favor,  /  Or she lives on welfare, barely getting by,
 But she's got a thousand stashed out in the henhouse,  /  To bury her real nice when she dies.
18.   Take A Whiff On Me - (composed and performed by Spartacus)

Well I walked up Ellum (Elm) and I came down Main Lookin' for a nickel, gonna buy cocaine. 
Oh, Lord, honey, take a whiff on me.

 Chorus:    Take a whiff, take a whiff, take a whiff on me,
                 Everybody take a whiff on me.  Oh, Lord, honey, take a whiff on me.

Well I went to Mr. Leamon's on a lope;  Sign in the window says there's no more coke. 
Oh, Lord, honey, take a whiff on me.                        (Chorus)
Well goin' up State Street, comin' down Main,  Lookin' for the woman that buys cocaine. 
Oh, Lord, honey, take a whiff on me.               (Chorus)

Well you got a nickel and I got a dime.  You get the coke and I'll buy the wine. 
Oh, Lord, honey, take a whiff on me.                      (Chorus)

Well whiff-a-ree and whiff-a-rye,  Gonna keep sniffin' until I die. 
Oh, Lord, honey, take a whiff on me.                     (Chorus)
19.   It's A Strange World  (K. Whitfield  ©2000)  4:40
          khandu - Instrumentals (; Ranger Dave is responsible for the
         knob-turning & all other things involved in the recording process.   - khandu 

"Though all instruments are played by me , except the JC Penney electronic drums, the song would
have never been recorded without my dearest & bestest friend & fellow musician, Ranger Dave. 
He was, & is, my technical man, producer, engineer, etc.   He also makes me laugh a lot!  Some of
you argued with him in the "Manatee" thread!  So this song is as much Ranger Dave, as it is khandu.
"Strange World' is a bewildered song about a bewildered man (ME!).  'Emmy' is focus of the
bewilderment, but Life is the source of it.   All people named in the song are real people.   The
names have not been changed to protect the innocent...except 'Emmy'; hers was changed to
protect the guilty!  The song ends on a note of hope, yet the last line is left unresolved,
even as the story is unresolved." - khandu

Well I think I'm gonna go to Ireland and look for the leprechaun.
If I get lucky like Darby O'Gill, I'm bound to catch me one.
I'll tell him that I want my riches, And I know what they will be;
A little peace of mind and a long, long time With Emmy right here by me.

Hey, Bo ain't on the scene no more, He left when I was a kid.
But I still remember the way he was And the funny little things he did.
But here I am, and here I'll be Until I say "Here I go!"
But before I leave, I do believe There's something you should know.

          It's a strange world...I wanna make that clear.
          Yeah, it's a strange world, but why in the hell are we even here?

 Now, Emmy'd been married 'bout fourteen times.  She told me I'd be her last
 But Emmy ran away to Mexico, She left me in her past.
 When she left, she left her fingerprints Dabbled all over my brain
 Now I can't think a thought without thinking of her Or talk without speaking her name.

      It's a strange world...yeah, that's for sure!  It's a strange place...without her

 Now, Janet was a jewel, Bonnie was a beauty, Donna Ray, she was full of spice!
 Like a good man, I tried to do my duty, Would have gladly done it twice.
 Some things they say are better left unsaid, Some deeds are better left undone,
 But I can't get her sweet lips outta my head--That lady was a hellalotta fun!

      It's a strange world...even way back when Such a strange world...I guess it's always been

 I think I'll smoke me another pack of Camel, I think I'll have another beer.
 Just like the joker, I'm always looking For some kind of way outta here.
 Maybe I'm right, but maybe I'm wrong, Maybe Emmy was a lying whore,
 But I'd glady give up everything I own Just to see her walk through that door.

      It's a strange world, as you can tell.
      And I'm a stranger in a strange land, This place called "Hell".

 Everybody says time is on my side, But there's a monkey on my back.
 Emmy weighs heavy upon my mind Like a train on a railroad track.
 I think I'm gonna go to Ireland, Look for the leprechaun
 Maybe I'll be lucky like Darby O'Gill...
20.   Cumberland Reels   ( "Robinson's Reel," "The Honeymoon," "A Bonny Lass to Marry Me,"
           & "The Cumberland Reel" all come from the MS notebooks of Cumbrian fiddlers of the19th C.)

          Greg Stephens - tenor banjo, guitar    

 "Cumbria is the top left-hand corner of England, containing the old counties of Cumberland,
Westmoreland & the Furness part of  Lancashire.  The Lake District  is part of the county
which contains England's highest mountain (Scafell Pike), deepest lake (Wastwater) & greatest
liar (used to be Will Rotson, but now he's dead they choose a new one every year.   Cumbria/
Cumberland means "land of the Britons (or
Celts or Welsh or whatever");  they hung on longer in
Cornwall and Cumbria than in the rest of England.  Then the Vikings arrived and took over, which
explains why we have so many Norse-derived place names & dialect  words.  Cumbria is very rural
& historically remote from English life, & there was little to do there in the winter but  play the
fiddle or socialise with sheep.
  The track is from the Boat  Band CD "A Trip to the Lakes": actually
I am the only person playing on this [multi-] track ... .   I chose this one as it's a Mudcat CD so I 
thought the one with only me on it was appropriate.    Other tracks with the other wonderful members
of The Boat  Band are much better, but they aren't Mudcatters." - Greg Stephens

21.  The Rosedale Fair   (adapted from "The Roseville Fair" - Bill Staines © 1979)   3:18 
[In Mudcat DT
 Harpmaker (John & Christine)  - vocals and instrumentals
"We live in Yorkshire (UK) & we have a place called 'Rosedale' in the North Yorkshire Moors
National Park.  It has a lovely abbey etc.    It also
has a fair, so ... we sing  [Bill Staines'
"Roseville Fair"] as 'Rosedale Fair.' --  Harpy.    
(Do you know the cheeky beggers in the chat room call me
 'Harpy!')"   --  Harpmaker

Oh, the night was clear, and the stars were shining, & the moon came up so quiet in the sky,
And the people gathered 'round, & the band was a'tuning.
I can hear them now playing "Coming Through the Rye."

You were dressed in blue & you looked so lovely,  Just a gentle flower of a small town girl.
You took my hand, & we stepped to the music.  With a single smile you became my world.

         And we danced all night to the fiddle and the banjo.  Their drifting tunes seemed to fill the air.
         So long ago, but I still remember   When we fell in love at the Rosedale Fair.

We courted well, and we courted dearly, & we'd rock for hours in the front porch chair.
Then a year went by from the time that I met you, & I made you mine at the Rosedale Fair.

         So here's a song for all of the lovers, & here's a tune that they can share.
         May they dance all night to the fiddle & the banjo   The way we did at the Rosedale Fair.

22.   Last Letter Home   (Kim Caudell)  3:43
         Kim Caudell (Kim C.) - vocals and ??

Dear wife, I am well and I mostly have been, with exceptions in between.
I am anxious to see you and my children so dear.  I'll get home, but I don't know when.
The fate that has kept us so far apart is hard and ruthless yet,
But remember our sweetest affections are bound by a cord stronger than death.

Chorus:     By a cord stronger than death, my love, by a cord stronger than death,
              Remember our sweetest affections are bound by a cord stronger than death.

I miss conversations that we used to share and I miss your caresses sweet.
Like twin stars in the sky we walk the same path, and our hearts together beat.
Distance and time make my love stronger grow.  In my dreams I see you yet
And remember our sweetest affections are bound by a cord stronger than death.