Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: bradfordian
Date: 06 Sep 22 - 03:36 PM

Àine was posting on Mudcat from 1998 and her last post was 28 October 2007. She ran song challenges which she hosted or ported to Geocities. This website was taken over by yahoo and eventually all content was deleted. In 2010 Joe Offer was able to retrieve much of the song challenge content from a backup website and port it into Mudcat (in this thread) There are more song challenge threads scattered throughout Mudcat to still pull into the songbook index.
Àine suddenly disappeared from Mudcat and as far as I know there has been no further contact.
I would like to place on record on behalf of Mudcat appreciation and gratitude for the work that Àine was involved with on Mudcat.
Barrie Mathers (Bradfordian)

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Felipa
Date: 04 Feb 21 - 04:22 PM

whatever happened to Áine Cooke? She hasn't posted on Mudcat, at least not as "Áine" since 2007 according to my search.

Subject: Paean To Cleigh by Micca
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:54 AM

Paean To Cleigh by Micca
(Tune: Because All Men Are Brothers)

Micca's Comments: Inspired by this thread (BS: For Catspaw and others: possums) and waiting for a sterilizer to do its job . . .

My brothers are all possums forever and a day
These little furry creatures have stole my heart away
I pine for Cleigh O'Possum tho' he is made of clay
And he's my joy unbroken until my dying day

As fur or ocarina my heart is turned to Cleigh
that possums is my soul mate and I with him must stay
and all the fame and glory Is his and his alone
And I would emulate him tho' my ass is unblown

He is a mudcat icon tho' small and shy and good
and even being with catspaw has not changed him to rude
his fame goes out before him we all would wish him well
and blessings on you barbara for casting this great spell

My brothers are all possums forever and a day
These little furry creatures have stole my heart away
I pine for Cleigh O'Possum, tho' he is made of clay
And he's my joy unbroken until my dying day

Michael A. Patterson (2000)

Subject: The Woes of the Gentlemen's Club by Amos & Leejay
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:32 AM

The Woes of the Gentlemen's Club by Amos and Lonesome EJ


Come all ye Playboy Playmates, wherever ye may be
I hope you'll pay attention, and listen unto me
For well ye know the shimmy, and the rassle and the blow
That keeps the money coming in, in the house in Chicago

Chorus:
Oh it's dark as a dungeon, and damp as the dew!
Where the dangers are many, and the gentlemen few!
For the guests are as randy as a billy goat's cub!
Oh, it's dark as a dungeon in the Gentlemen's Club!

When first I left my native farm, a tender miss alone
I had just a pair of thirty-eights, nothing else to call my own
Oh little did I understand the whacky rodeo
That I soon would be embroiled among
In the house in Chicago

Chorus

Come gather round Playmates and pay me your mind
Seek not your fortune in the Bump and the Grind
Disdain all the drunkards who pinch, grope and rub
It's dark as a dungeon in the Gentleman's Club.

Chorus

When first I did come there, a maiden so willing
I thought 'twas no harm, and I needed the shilling!
But the leering and whistles, they made my head whirl!
And I found that the Club was no place for a girl!

Chorus

They'll measure you up, and they'll calm all your fears
And they'll makeyou cavort in those cute bunny ears
And then the photographer offers his stub!
Bad cess to the owner of the Gentlemen's Club!

Chorus

Your smile quickly fades, and your spirits do fail
When first you go forth in the vile Cotton Tail
In the smoke and confusion and the noise of the band!
Then your cotton tail falls to a customer's hand!

Chorus

Oh the bodice it crimps you and gives you false airs
And the high heels are murder, when climbing the stairs
And the drunks are disgusting, the horny old tubs!
Bad cess and farewell to the Gentlemen's Club!

Chorus

I fear, as I age, and the days roll along
That someday my stomach will cover my thong
Then I'll sunbathe on the porch at the Old Playmate's Home
And pity those geezers still a-diggin' my bones!

Oh it's dark as a dungeon, and damp as the dew!
Where the dangers are many, and the gentlemen few!
For the guests are as randy as a billy goat's cub!
Oh, it's dark as a dungeon in the Gentlemen's Club!

Oh it's dark as a dungeon, and damp as the dew!
Where the dangers are many, and the gentlemen few!
For the guests are as randy as a billy goat's cub!
Oh, it's dark as a dungeon in the Gentlemen's Club!

Subject: Will That Be Broadcast Or Cable, Sir? by Praise
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:30 AM

Will That Be Broadcast Or Cable, Sir? by Praise

The latest trend in Gary, from what I understand,
Is to set their clocks to GMT, although in Indianne.
The reason for the time change, as they explained to me,
Is because that's the time that's always displayed upon Mudcat TV.

"Mudcat TV??!!" Yes, Mudcat TV.
How, you ask, could such a thing have ever come to be?
Well it was someone's inspiration (I can't recall which thread)
To make cartoons out of every word the 'Catter's have ever said.

It became a hot fundraiser, to keep the 'Cat afloat,
And Saturday mornings in Gary, the viewers cast their vote
For the best of the week's live entries, and you know who usually wins?
That nasty Cleigh O'Possum, though quite awful are his sins.

They said it could never happen--real money in this game?
But it finally was reckanized that the problem had been the name.
See, no one'll pay big bucks for folk, so it now is called "Who Wants
To Exchange Their Low-Paying Job in the Sweatshop for Coffee and Crosissants."

That's right! Phoak Music's philosophy and phreakiness and phun,
Are hidden inside a game show, now, and it's rated number one.
It's the only one with a host named Max, and a host who seldom appears,
(Though the host is reputed to work real hard, and sometimes strips his gears.)

The contestants are all those 'Catters who used to write the threads,
But now they are far too busy hiding winnings from the feds.
(The Goddess was off the show for a week just to meet with her CPA,
Cuz big money is taxed far too heavily here in North Amerikay.)

And the viewers are learning quickly how to make a Mudcat pun,
And soon they will be folkified, too, and join in all the fun.
That's when the plan goes global. Worked for "Millionaire", you know.
Didn't you know "Whose Line Is It Anyway?" is just a pilot Mudcat show?

Subject: Whispers In The Breeze by Amergin
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:28 AM

Whispers In The Breeze by Amergin
(originally posted in the thread "Homage To A Broken Man")

He sat within Kigali town
His heart was being torn
For his reports of coming genocide
His superiors they had scorned
With callous uncaring hearts
They ignored his pleas
While soft the voices came to him
A whisperin' in the breeze

'Twas hard the woeful sights to see
Of his men dying all around
But harder still to bear the shame
Of the UN chains around
And so he cried to an angry god
"Oh, please stop this mad disease"
As he heard the cries of his dying men
A whisperin' in the breeze

While sad he heard the phones go dead
The lines all soaked in blood
Children heads rolled down the street
Carried in a crimson flood
The machete blades gleamed with red
As his soul began to freeze
800,000 Tutsis cried
A whisperin' in the breeze

The UN bastards they turned their backs
Upon this sad heroic man
They said it was his lone fault
The massacres did begin
Eventually he cleared his name
But his mind was not appeased
800,000 Tutsis cry
A whisperin' in the breeze

He was found in a park in Hull
With a bottle in his hand
Drenched from his liquid meds
This once glorious man
He drinks the liquor everyday
His broken mind to appease
And to deaden the ghostly Tutsis cry
A whisperin' in the breeze

Subject: The While Drover by The Shambles, Wolfgang, Alice
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:27 AM

The While Drover by The Shambles, Wolfgang, Alice, steve t., and Barbara

With thanks to the (below contributors), all those who contributed to the thread and apologies to everyone else who may have been offended.   -- The Shambles.


Ivor Bean, a while, drover,
For 'Manny', a GOODYEAR,
An ice bend, hall harmony,
Honour 'Risky' Anne Bier.

Andy Now, armory, turning,
Wig holding, raised oar.
Hand Island, endeavour, whelp lay,
The while, drover, Gnome Moor.

Chorus Hand, tits, know, neigh, neither,
Know, neigh, neither, Gnome Moor.
Will Eye? Play, the while, drover, know, neither, Gnome Moor.

(The above from The Shambles)

Eye wind to a Yale house,
Thadie you stew free Gwent,
Annie tolled Alan Lady, my man, knee was splint,
I axed Hereford grayed it, Sheehan sir-ed mean, "Eh?" ,
Satchel cussed, um, a** yours! I can get Annie Day! ,

(The above from alice in montana)

I fulcrum I bucket tensor burns bride,
End a dandlings size append white Whidbey blight,
Chase a dive with key unwinds undervest,
Ander wards at icepick sherbert tony ingest ,

(The above from Barbara (blessings))

Then out of my pocket I took soverigns bright,
And spun them and waved them to gleam in the light,
The landlady frowned, snarled, now if I'm right,
This is Canada, not England, keep your soverigns, Good night! ,
...my parents...
...and if they lend me money as oftimes before,
then I'll not bollux this song, the while Drover, no more,

(The above from steve t.)

Here's the start of a German translation of the While, Drover:
Alf Biene, weil Troja
formen hieáe Ghia..

"It shows beautifully how all those names tend to get lost or culturally adapted in a translation which is what makes research on folksongs so difficult."

(The above from Wolfgang)

Subject: When A Packet Hits A Pocket by Author Unknown
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:26 AM

When A Packet Hits A Pocket by Author Unknown (submitted by Patrish)

Here's an easy game to play.
Here's an easy thing to say:

If a packet hits a pocket on a socket on a port,
And the bus is interrupted as a very last resort,
And the address of the memory makes your floppy disk abort,
Then the socket packet pocket has an error to report!

If your cursor finds a menu item followed by a dash,
And the double-clicking icon puts your window in the trash,
And your data is corrupted 'cause the index doesn't hash,
Then your situation's hopeless and your system's gonna crash!

You can't say this?
What a shame, Sir!
We'll find you.
Another game sir.

If the label on the cable on the table at your house,
Says the network is connected to the button on your mouse,
But your packets want to tunnel on another protocol,
That's repeatedly rejected by the printer down the hall,

And your screen is all distorted by the side effects of gauss.
So your icons in the window are as wavy as a souse,
Then you may as well reboot and go out with a bang,
'Cause as sure as I'm a poet, the sucker's gonna hang!

When the copy of your floppy's getting sloppy on the disk,
And the microcode instructions cause unnecessary risc,
Then you have to flash your memory and you'll want to RAM your ROM.
Quickly turn off the computer and be sure to tell your Mom.

Subject: The Towersey Ballad by Matthew Edwards
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:24 AM

The Towersey Ballad by Matthew Edwards
(Tune: Walsingham)

As you came from Towersey
That holy place of fame,
Met you with my Mudcat
By the way you came?

How should I your Mudcat know
From another one?
By his coloured shirt and badge
And his sandal shoon.

He is drunken dead, lady,
He is drunk and gone.
His head lies on the grass-green turf,
At his heels a Stone.

White his face as the mountain snow
Larded all with sweet Flowers,
Which bewept to the barn did go
And stayed all hours.

Subject: To Old Friend 'What-His-Name' by Kevin McGrath
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:22 AM

To Old Friend 'What-His-Name' by Kevin McGrath
(Tune: Deportees (Plane Crash at Los Gatos) by Woody Guthrie)

My Pee-See is crashed,
all my cookies are crumbled,
I'm trapped in this Web,
and my pride has been humbled
I think somebody's poisoned this watering hole.
And the Mudcat's been skinned,
it's been slaughtered and sold.

Chorus:
My head it is sore,
and my heart it needs healing
Let's all sing out once more
And let's sing it with feeling
Let's break down the walls,
And let's bring down the ceiling
For they say that the day
of the Mudcat is gone.

One by one we go down,
and the last was Mike Billo -
and we buried him under an old weeping willow,
and we carved on his tombstone this epitaph plain,
"Rest in Peace! Rise in Glory,
Old Friend What's-His-Name"

Chorus:
My head it is sore,
and my heart it needs healing
Let's all sing out once more
And let's sing it with feeling
Let's break down the walls,
And let's bring down the ceiling
For they say that the day
of the Mudcat is gone.

When I first came upon it
out there in the desert
I thought I had found an Oasis of Quiet
with the Mudcat in splendour,
and singing and shouting
But trouble soon came
and marauders and fighting.

Chorus:
My head it is sore,
and my heart it needs healing
Let's all sing out once more
And let's sing it with feeling
Let's break down the walls,
And let's bring down the ceiling
And rise to the skies
with the Mudcat reborn.
And let's rise to the skies,
with the Mudcat reborn.

© Kevin McGrath 2000

Subject: Turing Testing Time by Bradypus
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:21 AM

Turing Testing Time by Bradypus

Talk to me, baby
Convince me that you're cute
Prove to me you're human
And I will not compute

Turing test me baby
Let me prove I'm real
Chips and ram and circuit boards
Can't tell you how I feel

Joke with me, baby
Make me laugh and hoot
Humour comes with human
So how does this compute?

Twisting, turning, Turing
Megahertz and bytes
Calculating constantly
To put the world to rights

Sing to me, baby
Or play it on the lute
Melody and harmony
Will help me to compute

Stick it into overdrive
Send it through the bus
Computers trying to be human
Sure cause a lot of fuss

Cry to me, baby
Emotion is the root
Of what keeps us human
When we're trying to compute

Twisting, turning Turing
Testing far and near
Computers still can't fool us
At least, not this year!

Subject: There Once Was A Panda by Praise
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:19 AM

There Once Was A Panda by Praise

There once was a Panda, Miranda,
Who kept company on her verandah.
Her favorite caller
Was a former footballer--
I believe that his name was George Blanda.

On a neighboring street the koala
Had the urge to go see Walla Walla.
He packed his valise,
(Thought he'd stay with his niece),
But she'd died and had gone to Valhallah.

The koala complained to Miranda,
That her life by comparison was grander.
She replied with a coy,
"But you're my kinda boy!"
So to her veranda he wandah-ed.

He proceeded to evict the footballer,
And became Ms. Miranda's new follower.
She offered him lunch,
And he said, "Thanks a bunch,
Now I think of it, I'd rather eat in Austrah-lia.

The panda had planned on organza
For the wedding, the groom now half landed.
But she bid him adieu
(And I would have, wouldn't you?)
Thus he never shared panda orgasma.

Subject: That Dirty Little Coward! by Rick Fielding, Jeri,
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:18 AM

That Dirty Little Coward! by Rick Fielding, Jeri, Sinsull, and Áine

Jessie James was a man, who decided to retire.
And he knew the law would never leave him be.
So he faked his own death, and left the old wild weatht
and when people said "where's Jesse".........said "beat's me."

He put away his six guns, his cowboy hat and boots,
and opened up a wee cross-dresser's shop.
and the townsfolk all knew Jesse, as "the lady known as Toots"
and in his yard he grew a marihuana crop.

Chorus:
Oh Jesse was a wife, who went and changed his life,
but he couldn't have no children strong and brave.
He looked like Leslie Howard, and talked just like Noel Coward
and no one ever saw him feeling grave.

Jesse robbed from the poor and gave to the rich
He never did a friendly thing
And when his best friend died
He was right there by her side
And he lifted off her golden wedding ring

He was J. Frank D unless he really was Jesse
So they dug his corpse from its eternal bed
But someone dropped the ball and they really dug up Holland
And the only thing we know for sure is they're all dead

Chorus

Now Jessie's DNA was a match for ol' O J
Likewise the Mormon Tabernacle Choir
Did Elvis meet his end, where are Roswell's little men?
Of conspiracies I'll surely never tire.

Henry H. thought Grapevine a lovely place
To lay down at last upon his face,
He couldn't then know how he would harm,
The search for Jesse with his one arm.

Chorus

Subject: Tak' Me Ol' Galoshes by Katlaughing, Metchosin Mbo
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:16 AM

Tak' Me Ol' Galoshes by Katlaughing, Metchosin and Mbo

Tak' me ol' galoshes
Tak' me rubbers please
I've doon wi' claenin' fur-ahins arses
It's cam up tae me knee

I'd lik tae hang oot in me wellies
In a braw and heather scent
Sae a' the bonnie lassies ken
Tha I'm a gent

I'm doon wi' brooshin' wi'ers
I'm doon wi' brooshin' ass
The anly brooshin' e'er I'll dae
Is for haughie-mandie wi' the lassies in the grass

Gie tae me a crop an bunnet
I keen for mair holy groond
I nae wha' ye ken, kis I'm weirin' pink
I'm gane tae reenge and me dug

The gaitherts doot they deserve their look
The puir are nae sae shair
They dow wint tae the carriage profeesion
Bit will aye staun knee deep in manure!

A toast noo tae the Welly
Let their praises e'er be sung
For nathin' is sae unco' fine
When scoopin' up the dung!

The King o' a' the bootie race
Wha's match ha' ne'er been met
When ramblin' frae the Hielan' snaw
Or braes a' soggie wet!

Sae we'er your hie or your la' broo
In the coompny o' baists or snoots
This ane rale ye maun mind-o
Ye'll needs must want your boots!

Subject: Take Me Ol' Galoshes= Katlaughing, Metchosin Mbo
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:14 AM

Take Me Ol' Galoshes by Katlaughing, Metchosin and Mbo
Yune here: http://www.mudcat.org/alanofoz/Galosh2.mid


Confiscate my galoshes
Take my rubbers please
I've done with mucking horse arses
It's come up to my knees

I'd like to hang out in my wellies
In a fine and clover scent
So all the pretty lasses know
That I consider myself a gent

I'm done with currying withers
I'm done with currying ass
The only currying I now want to do
Is for favours with maids in the grass.

Hand me a crop and helmet
I long for much higher ground
I'm not what you think, just because I'm in Pink
I'm off to the hunt and the hound

The rich believe they're deserving their luck
The poor are not quite so sure
They may aspire to the carriage trade
But will still stand knee deep in manure.

A toast now to the Welly
Let their praises ever be sung
For nothing is so uncommonly fine
When scooping up the dung

The King of all the boot race
Who's match have never been met
When rambling from the Highland snow
Or the hills all soggy and wet!

So whether your high or your low-brow
In the company of farm animals or snoots
This one rule you should remember
You will always require you boots.

Subject: Sugar Dog Man by Praise
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:09 AM

Sugar Dog Man by Praise

Praise's Comments: Here's a new one from the Tavern....

This little puppy, she got her a wag
And a wiggle and a giggle and a tail for a flag!
She can always hear the step of the wunnaful Sugar Dog Man,
And the Sugar Dog Man he sees her, huh! As only he can.

Yes the Sugar Dog Man,
Now that's a treasure like wow!
Cuz a Sugar Dog Man, baby--
He ain't never fooled, nohow!

Corgi and Retriever, and a little corraggio sure,
Sugar Dog is faithful with a heart that is pure.
Sugar Dog and Sugar Dog Man, they go for a ride,
Beats keepin' up with that LONG Sugar Dog Man stride!

Yes the Sugar Dog Man,
That's a keeper you know!
Cuz a Sugar Dog Man, lil sugar dogs,
He always knows where to go!

Sugar Dogs is 'licious! An' Sugar Dogs is sweet.
A real Sugar Dog will lick you, yes, right offa your feet!
Sugar Dog Man don't use a leash, he don't tell you to stay,
Sugar Dog Man just offer a lap, cuz that's the bestest Sugar Dog way!

Yes the Sugar Dog Man,
He treat him his Sugar Dog all right!
Rather play with this old Sugar Dog
Than glare up a Sugar Dog fight.

Now Sugar Dogs is loving, an' Sugar Dogs is nice.
But Sugar Dogs ain't stupid-- no, love, Sugar Dogs is wise.
And Sugar Dogs can always tell just which way to go,
And Sugar Dog, if asked where she sleep, oh yeah, she always know!

See there's a special Sugar Dog Man,
Keeps the Sugar Dog Luhhv Bed.
An' Sugar Dog she surely come there
For to lay down her silky soft head.

So Sugar Dog Man, you may be, an' Sugar Dog, you may see.
Sugar Dog may curl up in your lap, for an hour or maybe three.
But Sugar Dog Man, or friend with a need, Sugar Dog boun' to fly.
Cuz Sugar Dog bidness is callin', an' God alone knows why!

But that ole special Sugar Dog Man--
What keeps the Sugar Dog Luhhv Bed--
He know Sugar Dog will surely come home
For to pillow her silky soft head.

~Susan Hinton~

Subject: The Submarine Kursk by IanC
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:08 AM

The Submarine Kursk by IanC
(Tune: Lady Franklin's Lament)

IanC's Comments: Roger wrote: "I am pessimistic that the belated rescue attempts will be in time, I fear that someone will be composing a ballad to a lost brave crew on the lines of the "Springhill Mine Disaster" soon." He's obviously been proved right, though what was going round in my mind was the Franklin expedition rather than Springhill. Quite uncharacteristically, whilst commuting to and from work, a song developed. This is the first and probably the only song I'll write, but I've posted it here for what it's worth. Perhaps somebody will make something useful out of it. The last two verses were originally alternative endings, but I've kept both.


One Sunday morning I lay half-awake
My thoughts confused by my sleepy state
When first I heard on the radio
The fate of The Kursk and all of her crew

Whilst cruising slowly neath the Barents Sea
A great explosion, by some mystery,
Opened a hole in the bow, and then,
She went to bottom there with all her men

Some said there was news, and some said none,
Some said that all their air, it had all gone
The Russian Navy couldn't get her free
For stormy weather and the rolling sea

Those seafaring peoples they called upon
Britain and Norway sent both crew and men
While day on day the time passed by
If any had lived, we fear they'll die

And when the Kursk was opened in the deep
Wives, parents, comrades they had cause to weep
The Kursk was flooded, all its men long drowned
Only dead bodies was all that they found

Ye bold submariners, as you pass by
Take ye the glass, but don't drink it dry
Think on their fate as their bodies lie
Trapped and drowning in the Barents Sea

And, yes, my memory it does give me pain
Thoughts of all the mariners the sea has slain
The ocean cruel no pity gives
Nor yet a tear in its eyes do live

© Ian Chandler, 23-08-00

Subject: Slug Songs (2) by Metchosin
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:06 AM

Slug Songs (2) by Metchosin

Mighty Hermaphroditey (To the Tune of the Beverly Hillbillies)

Oh I'm mighty Hermaphroditey
And I leave a slimey trail
And I don't know how to tell
My horny "head" from little "tail".
But it doesn't really matter
For each paramour I find,
Slip-sliding down the garden path,
Is also gender blind.

Well that's the way we romp and play
Yes, me and all my kin
So kindly spare the salt and beer
It's like to do us in
And remember in the garden,
When you see that silver line,
Our speeds not slow, as swingers go
Some think it's 69.

(And because I don't know when to quit….)

The Banana Slug Song (To the tune of Chiquita Banana)

I'm Hermita Banana and I've come to say
We slugs swing in a special way
Before el fresco dining on the doggy doo
We Pulmonata Lumbada the whole night through
You will find us in your garden
We have the telescoping eye-ayes
For Kamasu-ta-ra positions
We would surely win the prize
But Bananas like it cool not at the very, very tropical equator
So check your Organic produce, in your refrigerator.

Subject: Sing It Elsewhere by The Shambles
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:05 AM

Sing It Elsewhere by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments: To be sung to the tune of Villikins and his Dinah - the Yetties, Threshing Machine (Sling it here, sling it there, and if your standing by, then your all get your share). (For information on the subject of this song, please go to this thread)


Sing it here
Sing it there
For the sake of the landlord
Please sing it elsewhere

Important to us, is to be able to sing
And thought by many, to be very fine thing
But councils officials, who can count up to three
Are making outlaws of you and of me

I bring you news of a terrible fact
Singing in pubs is a criminal act
At the moment you're safe if there's only two
But there's even worse news, in the Parliament due

The two in a bar rule is to be taken away
From now on, no one will be able to play
Folk songs from England or music from France
Without permission sought well in advance

They say you can't sing, "public safety I'm afraid"
It would seem to be fine, if your not paid?
Its only the Minister that quite understands
How the pub is unsafe, just when 'money changes hands'

And the lads can crowd in, watch their team on TV
Need no, permission or a safe capacity
Can shout all they wish and nothing is wrong
Only, needing permission to burst into song

Football supporters with money to burn
Can wake up the neighbours, with no apparent concern
But you and the 'missus', you'd better beware
When you quietly burst into 'Scarborough Fair'

I would like you all to write your MP
Its time that they listened to you and to me
I don't know about you but I think this a farce
To hear politicians speak out of their ....(dispatch box)

Sing it here
Sing it there
For the sake of the landlord
Please sing it elsewhere

Subject: The Ship from Old Russky (Mir) by mousethief
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:03 AM

The Ship from Old Russky (Mir) by mousethief
(Tune: The Girl from Ipanema)

Busted panels, hull is splintered
The Russian pride spaceship re-enters
And when it falls in a fiery ball, it goes shhhhhhhh!
Set more records than Lougainis
Made the Soviet Space program famous
But now it's falling into the ocean with a shhhhhhh!

Oh, it cost millions of rubles
Now it's space junk, and in troooble
If it hits where they think it will hit
That's cool, but if not, then oh shit!

Big and heavy, chunks of titanium
(At least we're glad there's no uranium)
When it falls, hope it misses Christchurch -- oh well. Shhhhhhh!

Kosmonauts' eyes fill with tears
Remembering all of those years
That it hung like a star in the sky
Now like glasnost, too soon it must die

Cos the president of the U.S.
Wants to forge ahead and screw us
With missile shields, the cold war is back. Oh well. Shhhhhh.

Copyright ©2001 Alex E. Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:01 AM

The Sex Life of Chinchillas by mousethief

We can talk about the Irish problem,
Earwigs, lice, and roaches
But there's one subject we will not breach
That never will encroach us

We can talk about sex, and God, and Goddess,
Birth and death and war,
But don't bring up Little Hawk's chinchilla
That's not what Mudcat is for!

(Chorus:)
The sex life of chinchillas
Is way off bounds, it's true!
Although it might've thrilled us
To learn how those things screw
The sex life of chinchillas
We mustn't talk about
Or Little Hawk might just get mad
And sit right down and pout

Now we can talk about gun control
And politics and drugs
And things that make your mother faint
Like gross brain-drilling bugs

But Little Hawk's Chinchilla
Is very shy and proper
We mustn't mention boy chinchillas
We have seen atop her

(repeat chorus)

© Alex Riggle 2000

Subject: Reload! by Author Unknown (submitted by Patrish)
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 09:00 AM

Reload! by Author Unknown (submitted by Patrish)
(Sung to the tune of "Rawhide!")


Loading, loading, loading,
Damn this Java coding,
Feeling of foreboding, Reload!
The Applet says it's running,
And that big gray block is stunning,
But the screen remains as blank as my mind

Netscape crash, Boot 'em up!
Net goes down, Dial back!
Logging on, Still off-line!
Reload!
Try it now, Still not up!
Netscape crashed, What, again?
Boot it up,
Log it in,
Reload!

Tighten, tweaking', smoothen,
They say the codes improvin',
So how come I'm still usin' "reload"?
I'm tired of all this waitin',
Just give me .gif animation,
This code is only good for wasting time,
The applet says it's running,
And gray block is quite stunning,
But the screen remains as blank as my mind,

(Midi solo)

beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep,
beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep,
beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep,
beep, beep,
beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep,
beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep,
beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep,
beep, beep,

Netscape crash, Boot 'em up!
Net goes down, Dial back!
Logging on, Still off-line!
Reload!
Try it now, Still not up!
Netscape crashed, What, again?
Boot it up,
Log it in,
Reload! Reload!

- Author Unknown

Subject: Post-Apocalyptic Frenzy Letdown by Jeri
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 08:58 AM

Post-Apocalyptic Frenzy Letdown by Jeri

Jeri's Comments: I murdered the poor defenseless Jock Stewart - the link to the tune's at the bottom of that page.

Now, my name is Jock Stewart
I'm paranoid man,
And a careful young fellow, I've been.

Don't be easy and free
When you're dealin' wi' me.
I'm a man you don't meet every day.

I have acres of land;
A bomb shelter grand;
I have always a gun aimed at you.

Now, I took out my gun,
With my dog I did hide,
In my shelter for chaos to come

I'm in a terrible mood
But I've got lots of food
And whiskey to drive care away

I watched the year change
And I thought it so strange
When everything worked the next day

I fell victim to fears
Now I'm in beans to my ears
And below ground I think I'll just stay.

Subject: The Panda Hall/Tait by Calach
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 08:57 AM

The Panda Hall/Tait by Calach
(Tune: The Roads And The Miles To Dundee)

Cold Winter was howling, and the Panda was growling,
He was wandering the streets cause the pubs had all closed.
Up came a wee lassie, and said "Mr. Panda,
Would you like to come with me, your nose is all frozed?"

She was dressed like a hooker, but still quite a looker,
But the high heels and lipstick, they gave it away.
But the Panda went with her, cause his body was shivering'
And he needed some food and a warm place to stay.

They walked back together, in the cold wintry weather.
She took him upstairs to her well-used address.
She asked what he wanted, as she cuddled the Panda
And he went up to bed with his little temptress.

Although now he was warm, he couldn't perform
He needed some food, he'd not eaten all day.
She cooked him some fried rice, bamboo shoots and bean sprouts,
Some nice lemon chicken and a chocolate soufflé

From the table they rose, and he took off her clothes,
Made love all night long, till the first break of dawn.
Then he got out of bed, and he said to the lassie,
"So long to you darling, I now must be gone."

Says she, "No my honey, you owe me some money.
It's required for my living; for a prostitute I be."
"But I am a Panda, and I don't pay for loving,
We'll solve our dispute with a dictionary."

They looked at the book, for the meaning of hooker,
"A girl paid for loving, who never conceives."
Her threw her the book and she read with amazement
All it said about Pandas was "Eats shoots and leaves."

Subject: Ode To Thread Creep by Harry
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 08:54 AM

Ode To Thread Creep by Harry

Read a story 'bout a week ago
Feelin lazy the day was slow
'Bout a fellow who was lookin for a song he heard
Couldn't really play it but he knew all the words

Said 'It's a song bout a girl who went to France
Didn't know where exactly but she took a chance,
Can anyone out there help me figure this out
I'm sure someone can I don't have any doubt

Chorus:
Thread Creep, Thread Creep, why can't the subject just keep?
If I ask a question to help knowledge expand
Can't you stay with the subject at hand?

Fellow wrote back 'I went to Paris before
Had a great time couldn't ask for more
Around the Arc de Triumph, lots of traffic congestion
Not really sure if I answered your question

Another one said, 'I was congested last week
Felt really bad, well I could hardly speak
Now I hate to complain, through my nasal congestion
But why ain't this thread about a musical question?!?

Chorus:
Thread Creep, Thread Creep why can't the subject just keep?
If I ask a question to help knowledge expand
Can't you stay with the subject at hand?

Subject: Ode To The Captain's Hearts by Kelida and Mbo
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 08:53 AM

Ode To The Captain's Hearts by Kelida and Mbo

We loved you for your heart of gold
We liked the other ones, too, if truth be told.
We'll miss your laughter and your smile,
We'll miss the way you went the extra mile.

We loved your sweet heart, it tasted nice,
Especially now, steamed and served over rice.
We'll miss you now that you're dead and gone,
But we thought it might be nice to write you this song.

We even loved your heart of stone
Although its weight sometimes made you groan
We'll miss your insults, all good-natured fun,
And we'll never forget you talent for puns.

We sometimes loved your cheatin' heart
Except when you beat us at cards
We'll miss the way you stacked the deck,
And we'll miss the way you cracked your neck.

We loved to see your heart or hearts
With all it's icky slimy parts
Ventricles and coronaries
The color blood of boysenberries.

Subject: My First Love by Amergin
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:27 AM

My First Love by Amergin

As I went in the pub one day
I heard the fiddles playing
The drums were beating
And the singer braying
I walked up to the bar
And sat upon the stool
Looking at the counter top
My mouth began to drool

Upon the bar she sat before me
Bubbling with her female wiles
I sat staring in wonderment
As she flashed me with her smiles
Her light brown hair flowed down
Caressing the curves of her breasts
I laughed and grinned at the blood
Forcing the thumping in my chest

Chorus:
Oh, she looked so sweet, her body like glass
Never will I forget the taste of this dark lass

Her black limbs stretched out
Before me shining with dew
She leaned towards me laughing
And so my faint hopes grew
She bent down to me mouth gaping
Tongue flickering as we kissed
She tasted thick and bitter
I stared at her in the smoky mist

We kissed again and yet again
Each time hotter and longer
Her spit filling me with warmth
Til my love could grow no stronger
I whisper softly into her hair
As it swirls down her smooth throat
She sighs and sizzles in quiet lust
At each love song I gently quote

(Chorus)

My thoughts fade off into smoke
As I drink in her loving milk
It flows down heating my gullet
Coating my insides with its silk
I look up to watch the band
Feeling the beat of the song
I drift my eyes back to the bar
To find that she has gone

Final Chorus:
Six years have passed and gone since that blissful night
I still think of my first love and my cheeks shining bright

Subject: My Bodhrán Is Too Tight by Troll
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:25 AM

My Bodhrán Is Too Tight by Troll

My bodhrán is too tight.
My bodhrán is too tight.
I sweat and toil,
With grease and oil,
and still the tones not right.

My bodhrán is too tight.
My bodhrán is too tight.
I've tried neetsfoot,
And oily soot,
My hands they look a fright.
It's such a bummer.

I've tried each thing that anyone's suggested.
And for a drummer,
It's hard to play a drum that sounds congested.
And I've protested.
My bodhrán is too tight.
My bodhrán is too tight.

Since I can't play
It any way.
I'll do it just for spite!
My bodhrán is too tight.
My bodhrán is too tight.
The fiddler's mad.
That's too damn bad!
I'm gonna play all night!

Subject: Mudcat's Y2K For What It's Worth by Dave (the anci
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:24 AM

Mudcat's Y2K For What It's Worth by Dave (the ancient mariner)


Dave's Comments: Ladies and Gentlemen, for your edification and delight. A short song written on the spur of the Y2K moment. I present . . . (with suitable and profuse apologies to Buffalo Springfield):


There's something happening here
What it is ain't exactly clear
There's Bill Gates with a sign over there
Telling me I got to prepare

I think it's time we stop,
Children what's that sound
Y2K is coming around

There's credit lines being withdrawn
MacIntosh is right if Microsoft is wrong
Young people going online
Getting so much Internet before it's time

I think it's time we stop,
Hey what's that sound
Microsoft maybe going down

What a field-day without heat
Millions shivering in the street
Carrying MacIntosh and Microsoft signs
Saying I'll gladly pay for more Millennium time

It's time we stop,
Hey what's that sound
The Internet may be going down

Paranoia strikes deep
Into your threads it will creep
It starts when you're always online
You come offline, Y2K comes and takes it away

We better stop,
Hey what's that sound
Microsoft may be going down
Stop hey what's that sound
Everybody Internet is going down
Stop now, what's that sound
Traffic lights will be falling down
Stop children what's that sound
Bugger all happened, I'm going downtown

Subject: The Mudcat Tavern Anthem by Susan A-R, Bert, Áine,
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:23 AM

The Mudcat Tavern Anthem by Susan A-R, Bert, Áine, Mían, and Alice

Áine's Comments: You just had to be there -- Don't Dream It! BE IT!

S'paw's at the door again,
Yeah, THAT door
Cleigh's cleaned the shrimp up
and he's whistling for more
Roger's smashing tiples
(What's a hammer for??)
And it's Thursday at the Mudcat Tavern

Mick's in the kitchen
Cooking something great
MMario's looking baffled
At the brownies he just ate
THE FAIR ONE's in the jello pit
(Mick starts to salivate)
And it's Friday in the Mudcat Tavern

The home computer users
Are the only ones that's here,
And all the worker lurkers
Are home, crying in their beer
But they'll be back the first thing Monday
Don't you ever fear,
And it's Saturday in The Mudcat Tavern

Áine's stirring up her chili
And as the cauldron boils,
She casts a spell on HFA
For spoiling Max's toils
She smells and tastes and cackles
(Mick salivates again)
And it's Saturday in The Mudcat Tavern

Tippling the Black Vile Stuff
As east coast churchbells chime
Or getting hammered in the buff
On Wyo' Mountain Time
It looks like Sunday, sure enuf',
But while you read this rhyme
It's Twilight Zone in the Mudcat Tavern.

The worker lurkers join the club
And catch up on the threads.
They're giggling at what's in the tub
They're poppin' Neil Young meds.
They're looking o'er their shoulder now
The boss is what they dread,
And it's Monday at the Mudcat Tavern.

S'paw comes in a bitchin
At the door, the pets, the food
(Yeaah, the yacks and the flamingos
have been getting rather rude)
But the man who blows a possum
has no right to be a prude
And it's Tuesday in the Mudcat Tavern.

There's oysters in abundance
And there's even spuds and crepes.
I made myself a tango dress
From old green velvet drapes.
I've got a rose between my teeth,
And Mario's peeling grapes,
Oh, it's Wednesday at the Mudcat Tavern!

Subject: Modern Magic by MMario
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:21 AM

Modern Magic by MMario
(To the tune: Who Is At My Window Weeping)

Who is in the breakroom weeping
Weeping there, so bitterly
'Tis I, 'Tis I, the waitress Cindy
Tonight's the Prom, and I've not the fee

Cindy, go and ask the bar-maid
If she's a gown to lend to thee
If it's not right, we'll find another
And to the Prom, tonight go ye

Cindy went and asked the bar-maid
the gown it fit her to a tee
her hair was combed, and quickly styled
To the Prom, will go our fair Cindy

Cindy, Go, and call your boyfriend
The cook a tux to loan has he
But do it now, and do it quickly
or else it's late, that you shall be

Cindy went and called her boyfriend
The tux it fit him properly
With cummerbund and velvet lapels
To the Prom he goes, with the fair Cindy

The boss then called his brother Vinnie
who owed to him, a favour or three
"Bring the limo round, and do it promptly
To the Prom, you're driving our Cindy"

From wallet, purse, and pocket deeply
Friend and patron then drew free
Payment for the door and dinner
And dancing for the Fair Cindy

A magic night, for two young lovers
Made not with wand, or cast of spell
But magic wrought by hearts so tender
And friends that loved their Cindy well

Subject: Missin' The Mudcat Blues by BSeed
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:19 AM

Missin' The Mudcat Blues by BSeed

bSeed's Comments: Last year in October we had a series of weekends when the threads wouldn't open: Max left town and everything went to hell in his absence. Three weeks in a row I wrote songs about what it was like to be without the threads.

I got the blues 'cause the Mudcat's gone and crashed again;
My God it hurts, the Mudcat's crashed again--
Good golly Miss Molly, when will them crashes end?

I gotta have the 'cat, 'cause I got a lotta stuff to say;
Oh, I need them threads 'cause I got so much to say.
But Benjamin and Barry Finn and all the threads have gone away.

I need Barbara and Art, I need Alison and Mick,
With only silence from the swamps--I know I'm gettin' sick,
Tim and Chet and Northfolk, you're gone but what can I do?
I'd ask Joe Offer, but dammit, he's gone, too.

With no Harpgirl and no Raven I'm stuck all alone in lonesome hell;
Bill's in Alabama, and there's no Wolfgang here in
hell,
Roger, Pete, and Ewan, Mike and Murray, they're all gone as well.

There's no word out of Brisbane, and Vancouver's quiet, too;
There's no word out of Brisbane, and Vancouver's quiet, too.
You gotta get me back on line, Max, 'cause what else can I do?

I got the blues 'cause the Mudcat's gone and crashed again;
My God it hurts, the Mudcat's crashed again--
Good golly Miss Molly, when will them crashes end?

c. Charles Kratz (12/0ct/98)

Subject: The Memory Banks of Mudcat by Catspaw49
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:18 AM

The Memory Banks of Mudcat by Catspaw49

(Tune: "Banks of the Ohio" )

Took my computer, Back to the store
Like I'd done, Many times before
My CPU, Went up in smoke
Loading a thread, Named "What is Folk."

Only say, It will be fine.
And I can soon, Go back online.
I'm 'Cattaddicted, Its plainly seen
Now I can but stare, At this blank screen.

I scan the threads, Ten times a day.
So many have, So much to say.
There's lots of songs, Lyrics in full
Lots of talk, And lots of bull.

Bruce O. knows songs, From times long past
Spaw gives insults, Blows a possum's ass.
Peter T.'s, Thought for the day
Is that the heron, Will go away.

Rick picks, Mick flirts, El Swanno can dive.
And in Kat's garden, The faeries thrive.
Mario sings, Leej talks of Blake
And the Skiffler is, A total flake.

In the shower, Alice sings.
Pansy Rue, Does "other" things.
The Fair One fends, Off Micks' advance.
Alan of Oz, Wears her underpants.

Art, Joe, and Seed, Help smooth the ruts.
When gargoyle goes, Completely nuts.
The Paton's are, Like a Mom and Dad
Barbara gives her blessings, even when we're bad.

Mudcat radio, On Wednesday night
Will it crash? Well it just might.
Max must work hard, We all admit
'Cause Ol' Bert can't, Remember shit.

Computer's repaired! Pick it up at six.
Then I can get, My Mudcat fix.
Lord may it never, Go away.
Great friends all, Mudcat Cafe.

Subject: The Mbo Bop by Amos, Metchosin and Áine
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:16 AM

The Mbo Bop by Amos, Metchosin and Áine
(Tune: The Monster Mash)

Chords: C~~~Am~~~~~F~~~~~~~~G

They were gathered at the Mudcat, BanjoBonnie, Caitrin, Pop
When the music started thumpin, and they started in to bop!
WHat was it they were doing? That crazy dance so free!!??
Well they were doing the Mbo Bop, c'mon and do it just like me!!

Chorus:
They did the bop!!
It was the Mbo Bop
They did the bop! It was a folkies hop!
They did the bop!
It was the MBO Bop!
They did the bop!
They never want to stop!

The place was really rockin' when the laughing kat strolled in,
She jumped up on the table, yelled 'let the Mbo Bop begin!'
Then Amos lit the candle and the flaming mousse ran by
That's when the crowd began to flee, Mbo bopping on the fly!

Chorus

Joe Offer came a cruisin' in, his head upon a stick
And the GUEST who never shall be named, came up to get a lick
That's when the riot started and chocolate mousse began to spurt
Spaw cried, "Don't touch it, suckah, or you're likely to get hurt!"

Chorus

Big Mick's Irish temper was beginning to flare
Shambles and Bugsy his sentiments did share
Seems their frustrations they could not conceal
For they wanted to know if the rude guests were real

Chorus

Gargoyle from the crypt began to arise
With a flamin' group The Kat Kicker Five
Threw back the lid and shook his mouse,
"Words of care and comfort? Not in my House!

Chorus

Witty banter and thread creep is the specialty
Lyrics and tunes? They dish it out for free!
Lemons into lemonade, when things go wrong,
Down at the Mudcat they turn it into song!

Chorus

Lil' Mbo was caterwhalin' that his poem could not be heard
For the crowd was Mbo Boppin' to Fats Waller and The Bird
Max picked up his new dobro, played a chord, began to sing,
"If you guys don't settle down now, I'll shut off the whole damn thing!"

Chorus

Well, they twisted and murmured, but began to settle down
For the 'Cats all know to listen when the Max is in the town
Mbo hisself took notice, said his party piece so neat
And they hoisted him on high and Mbo Bopped into the street!

Chorus

So if chillblains and the fever have begun to get you down
And you're ready to decapitate the nearest kid around!
C'mon down to Mudcat heaven, just dispense with all the fuss,
Where it's a treat to beat your feet and do
The Mbo Bop with us!

Chorus:
They did the bop!!
It was the Mbo Bop
They did the bop!
It was a folkies hop!
They did the bop!
It was the MBO Bop!
They did the bop!
They never want to stop!
They did the Bop!

Subject: May Your Sword Never Grow Rusty by Malveka
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:14 AM

May Your Sword Never Grow Rusty by Malveka
(Being A Toast to the Endangered Bachelor) -

May your sword never grow rusty
May your beard never grow thin
Hark now the wisdom of sages
You've got to be up to be in!

Chorus:
Come good fellow sit by me
Take your pick of all good ale
Lend me thine ear on your joining's eve
And I'll toast thee without fail
I say!
I'll toast thee without fail!

May your sword never grow rusty
May life's blessings flow from the spout
Just recall that the blessing of children
May be yours if you don't pull out

Chorus

May your sword never grow rusty
Won't you heed now the words of this clown
Remember that after you're married
'Tis only computers that go down

Chorus

May your sword never grow rusty
May your frame always be stout
Be sure that you know all the exits
When she gets the frying pan out

Chorus

May your sword never grow rusty
May your love life never go bust
But on those days when love isn't working
Don't forget you've always got lust

Chorus

May your sword never grow rusty
May you know that it often is quipped
That vows will truly be tested
When she tells you to get yourself snipped

Chorus

May your sword never grow rusty
May you find yourself aging with grace
But if on two legs you find yourself limping
Oysters help keep your rod in the race

Chorus

May your sword never grow rusty
But if perchance you find that it should
Forget not the Falls of Niagra
Though Viagra, they say, works as good

Chorus

May your sword never grow rusty
Your delights each day renew
And find as each year passes
Your love has grown anew

Chorus

Subject: The Manchester Mudcat Ramble by Matthew Edwards
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:12 AM

The Manchester Mudcat Ramble by Matthew Edwards
(with profound apologies to Ewan MacColl)

The White Lion on Friday will sure be a high day,
When 'Cats sing and play music as well.
And if you are lucky, then down at the Ducie,
There'll be many fine stories to tell.
Then its Pauline's in Failsworth on Sunday,
For the ones who can get out of bed;
But I'll be trying to part with my curry,
And feeling I'd rather be dead.

Chorus:
I'm a Mudcat, I'm a Mudcat, down Machester way,
I get all my pleasure the musical way.
I may be a wageslave on Monday,
But I am a singer on Sunday.

Subject: The Lovely Ship The Mudcat by Kelida
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:11 AM

The Lovely Ship The Mudcat by Kelida
(Tune: "The Bonny Ship the Diamond" minus 1 verse)

(Spoken: Space, the final frontier, where no Mudcat has ventured before. . .until now.)

Sung:
Oh the Mudcat is a ship, my friends, For the nebula she's bound
And the bay it is all covered, with musicians all around
Captain Trid, he gives the order, to shift into warp speed
To a planet where the natives, they don't have a mouth to feed.

Chorus:
So, let's gear up, my friends,
Let your voices sing out
As the lovely ship the Mudcat,
Goes to space to travel about.

Around the Mudcat Tavern, the musicians gather 'round
With their instruments close by them, and their voices lifting loud
Don't you fret, you'll get your turn, you won't get left alone,
After this, come one and all, and sing songs of your own.

Here's health to the Albert Hansell, likewise the katlaughing
Here's health to the wonderful Mbo, and the Mudcat, ship of fame;
We'll wear our space suits now, and our Mudcat tee-shirts, too,
When we return from space, my friends, we'll have many songs anew.

© Bridget McKinney (2000)

Subject: Love Bytes by Bradypus
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:08 AM

Love Bytes by Bradypus

Bradypus' Comments: There was a letter to the editor in today's (10-May-00) Daily Telegraph: "SIR - The episode of the "love bug" virus proves once again the truth of the old saying that the e-mail of the species is more deadly than the mail." After McGrath's contribution to Song Challenge 26, I couldn't resist ... (posted in this thread).

For up to date communication the computer is the king
And to get your message over e-mail seems to be the thing
But one fact is oft neglected, and it makes our systems fail
For the e-mail of the species is more deadly than the mail

For the junk we get by snail mail simply lands upon the mat
And it's dormant and it's lifeless as it lies there rather flat
But the junk we get by e-mail seems to tell a different tale
For the e-mail of the species is more deadly than the mail

First the message says 'I love you', then you find that you're infected
And you wish you'd taken measures for to keep yourself protected
As in life, so with computers, and it makes you quake and quail
For the e-mail of the species is more deadly than the mail

It infects your words and pictures, your jpeg and mp3
And makes you wish you'd never seen extension vbe
Your address book is subverted, all your friends will weep and wail
For the e-mail of the species is more deadly than the mail

We can hardly do without it, though we know the risks it brings
For it's faster and it's slicker, like so many e-type things
But whene'er it's out of kilter it can turn the strongest pale
For the e-mail of the species is more deadly than the mail.

Subject: Lament Of A Guardsman by Amergin
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:07 AM

Lament Of A Guardsman by Amergin
(Tune: Long Black Veil)

Amergin's Comments: Just wrote this a few minutes ago. P.S. I wasn't there either, was only born 4 years later. But that doesn't stop me from feeling the pain, the anger, the sorrow for those that were shot down and for those that did the shooting. Let us not forget. Blessed be. My tribute to Kent State:

Thirty years ago on the Fourth of May
Four students died that warm spring day
The people who ran they all agreed
The man with the gun looked a lot like me

Now I walk these halls water in my eyes
I still hear out night all the mournful cries
Nobody sees all the dropping tears
Nobody wants to hear

The protest was hot, and tensions were high
When a shot rang out, I saw the first one die
I said not a word, but fired into the crowd
The stains on my hands, echo oh so loud

We were a-firing, and tossing the tear gas bombs
While they went running across the common lawns
And when the smoke had cleared, it was painful to hear
The cries of the dying and the wounded so near

I was just a boy and little did I know
That on that fateful spring day, I lost my soul
Still I walk these halls, water in my eyes
I still hear at night all the mournful cries

Nobody sees all the dropping tears
Nobody wants to hear

Subject: I Think We're Not Alone Now by mousethief
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 07:00 AM

I Think We're Not Alone Now by mousethief
(Tune: I Think We're Alone Now)

I think we're not alone now
There does seem to be some aliens arou-hound
I think we're not alone now
The whirring of their ships is the only sou-hound

Humans, behave
That's what they say when they release us
And watch what you say
They won't believe you
And so we're telling everybody we can
We were in the aliens' hands
Calling the Art Bell show late in the night
And then we're stuck on hold forever
Then we're on the air -- all right! -- and then we say:

I think we're not alone now...

© 2001 Alex Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: The Famous Yacht Alinghi by Schantieman
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:31 AM

The Famous Yacht Alinghi by Schantieman

(Tune: Dunno what it's called. Same as (stolen from) Miles Wootton's 'Great Fish Finger Disaster')

Schantieman's Comments: First draft. Needs some honing.

Oh come all you brave young yachtsmen, who sail the stormy deep
I'll tell to you a secret which you must forever keep,
Concerning that bold sail-i-or, Russell Coutts it is his name
And he sailed the yacht Alinghi; from Switzerland it came.

With Jochen Schümann by his side in Auckland he set sail
All for to win America's cup, he knew he must not fail.
The Gnomes of Zurich backed them, and they pleaded on their knees:
Oh bring us back a box of holes for Emmenthaler cheese!

In Schnackenburg, the Kiwi boat, they had a great tactician
His sails and legal knowledge they did help them on their mission
Th'Alinghi overcame them all, it nearly drove them barmy
Coz they all had knives they'd gotten from the world-renowned Swiss Army.

With army knives about their waists on Kevlar lanyards worn
They set about the Kiwi boat as to the manner born
Removing of her fish-scales and the horses' hooves as well
With their magnifying glasses they did cause her hul9l to swell.

Well the series it was over and the Kiwis had been beaten.
For far too much Swiss choc-o-late by them, it had been eaten
The famous yacht Alinghi, was first into the dock
But they found they'd been and timed the race with a crooked cuckoo clock!

Copyright © Steve Freedman December 2002

Subject: Is It Only In The Stories Miracles Happen by Great
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:27 AM

Is It Only In The Stories Miracles Happen by GreatGoo


Is it only in the stories miracles happen
As the magic of the evening comes to play
Are the happy endings only
In our hearts, and so it seems
Or can we bring our fondest dreams into the day

A young woman found herself
At a crossroads in her life
Torn apart by a vanishing hope
And another passing day
With no choices left to pick from
She turned back to what she must
Hid her tears inside her heart
And went along her way

Is it only in the stories miracles happen
As the magic of the evening comes to play
Are the happy endings only
In our hearts, and so it seems
Or can we bring our fondest dreams into the day

Others too have been here
Where the rough edge makes you cry
Where our fantasy's are tattered
As the world goes swiftly by
But we can change the ending
Out of kindness, out of love
And mend a shattered dream
In a very simple way

Is it only in the stories miracles happen
As the magic of the evening comes to play
Are the happy endings only
In our hearts, and so it seems
Or can we bring our fondest dreams into the day

It's the little bits that each of us
Can add that make the whole
The little things we do
To push the hurt away
As each gives to the dream
We regain what we have lost
And prove
It doesn't have to end that way

Is it only in the stories miracles happen
As the magic of the evening comes to play
Are the happy endings only
In our hearts, and so it seems
Or can we bring our fondest dreams into the day

Subject: I Wanna Go Down by Amergin
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:25 AM

I Wanna Go Down by Amergin

I wanna go down to Jackson, Mississippi
I wanna go down, to protest the war
I wanna go down to Jackson, Mississippi
To hear, to hear the students roar

I wanna go down to the university
I wanna go down just to learn
I wanna go down to the university
To watch, to watch the fires burn

I wanna walk down around the school
I wanna walk down across the lots
I wanna walk down around the school
To feel, to feel the pistol shots

I wanna run down into the open door
I wanna run down into the women's dorm
I wanna run down into the open door
To smell, to smell the coming storm

I wanna go back into our tragic past
I wanna go back, back those thirty years
I wanna go back into our tragic past
To taste, to taste the stinging tears

I don't want this to ever happen again
We don't need to be caught within their net
This tragedy will never happen again
Unless, unless, unless we all forget

I wanna go down to Jackson, Mississippi
I wanna go down, to protest the war
I wanna go down to Jackson, Mississippi
To hear, to hear the students roar

Subject: How Many Folkies Does It Take To Change A Lightbul
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:21 AM

How Many Folkies Does It Take To Change A Lightbulb? by Amos
(Tune: Blowin' In The Wind)

Tell me how many folkies need to change a light bulb
Before the light bulb stays changed?
An' how many Mudcats need to add to the list
Before they get home on the range?
And how many answers does one man have to see
Before he can see that they're strange?

The answer, old bloke,
Is just a Mudcat joke!
The answer is just a Mudcat joke.

Yes, an' how many threads must a man run down
Before the Kat makes him grin
AN' how many Possum whistles must ol' SPaw sell
Before possum whistles get him?
An' how many times mus' Mbo be pronounced
Before it begins to sink in?

The answer, old bloke
Is jes' a Mudcat joke!
The answer is just a Mudcat joke!

(Rasp, rasp wheeze wheeze, raw raw)
Kaching kaching G Am Bm D ad infinitum

Subject: Golden Colorado by tradsteve
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:19 AM

Golden Colorado by tradsteve
Tune:   I Ain't Got No Home

We've dug ourselves a hole here in Golden Colorado
We've all this water that has nowhere to go
We let our fears get the best, now we've water to our chest
We've dug ourselves a hole in Golden Colorado

Take two or three baths a day and scrub behind your ears
Nothing left for you to do but wallow in your fears.
New Years was not that bad so shouldn't we all be so glad?
Now drink a glass and water the grass before it all goes bad.

Stockpiled spam can be a salty treat
Might as well wash it down with water while you eat.
Fill your pool nice and deep and hope the chlorine keeps
Have a heart and do your part in Golden Colorado

The water is a-ready and a-itchin' to be used
Waste it while it's there and ready to be abused
Use your toilet paper rolls and flush those toilet bowls
Flush us out of our hole in Golden Colorado

Two million gallons is an awful lot
But we thought by Y2K the computers would be shot
So waste the water while you can and lend a helping hand
Drink us out of our hole in Golden Colorado!

Subject: Gastronomic Passions by Amos
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:18 AM

Gastronomic Passions by Amos

Annie's scones and Caitrin's cookies
They could satiate a Wookie
They're the sweetest treats what am!
With Kahlua, cream and jam!

Wrap your tongue around this fashion!
And you'll know true Gaelic passion!
They're the best things ever tasted!
Any more than a mouthful's wasted!

Now, dear Annie, don't be modest
You're our own, A Gaelic goddess!
And its you we're dreaming of
When we sing of Irish love

And sweet Caitrin, so retirin'
Mbo finds you so inspiring!
Nothing shakes a folkie's bones
Like Caitrin's cookies and Annie's scones!

Subject: Fred Dyer's Bees by Amos
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:16 AM

Fred Dyer's Bees by Amos
(Tune: The Big Rock Candy Mountain)

In a far off lane, lined with sugar cane
Where the honeybees go walkin'
In a big white van, came a science-man,
All worked up to do some stalking
As he drove along, he hummed a song
And thought of hives and honey!
For he'd had a dream, and dreamt up a scheme
That would earn him lotsa money!

Chorus: Ohhhhhhh the buzzing of the Queen on the radar screen!
The flapping of transistors!
And the glue that binds on the bee's beehinds
Of the drones and all their sisters!

Now this science lug was in love with bugs
And was handy with the solder!
He drummed up a grant, by composing cant
'Bout the queen bee, and her daughters
There's no way to know how he flung the snow
In his guileful composition
But it sure was hot, cuz the fellow got
A rich research position!

Chorus

So he bought himself a six-foot shelf
Of scopes and lab things fancy
And equipped with these, he went hunting bees
With a postgrad aide named Nancy.
They would grab the drones from their waxy homes
As they left for work, Fred gottem!
With epoxy glue and a diode or two
They would wire up their bottoms!

Chorus

Now its hard to tell what this science swell
Is learning from these workers!
Cuz him and Nan they sit back in the van
Watching 'scopes and eating burgers.
Yelling "North!" and "whoa!" on the radio
As their labmates sweat for hours
Running zig zag trails through the hills and dales
While the bees make calls on flowers!

Chorus

Now this fella Fred has got quite the head
For acquiring research dollars
And he'll run this show where the honeybees grow
'Til someone tips off the scholars
Then he'll grab a flight, in the dark of night
And a new girl, named Amanda
And theyll make a try, tracking tsetse flies
For the gummint of Rwanda!

Ohh, the buzzing of the Queen on the radar screen
The flapping of transistors!
And the glue that binds to the bees beehinds
On the queen and all her sisters!

Subject: Farewell… by Amergin
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:14 AM

Farewell… by Amergin
(Tune: Hobo's Lullaby)

Farewell, my weary steel mill
Let your foundries slowly die;
The gates are closing behind me
As I wipe tears in my eyes.

PGE jacked their rates up;
EPA decreased the water flow.
There're forest fires in Idaho
All the reasons they need to know.

Workers at Kaiser are still striking
For jobs that are barely even there;
The corporations are now laughing
At the worried faces everywhere.

Now the smoke is no longer rising
The emptiness is bearing down;
The mill is in a blanket of darkness
As the car slowly leaves the town….

Subject: These Lyrics Are Explicit by Bradypus
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:12 AM

These Lyrics Are Explicit by Bradypus

These lyrics are explicit.
They mean just what they say.
There is have no hidden baggage
They're plain and clear as day

They don't avoid the subject
They use four-letter words
They are not mean, or mealy-mouthed
For that would be absurd

To post explicit lyrics
Can seem somehow to vex
But these lyrics are explicit
And explicitly not about sex!

Subject: Empty Nester's Blues by Amos
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:10 AM

Empty Nester's Blues by Amos
(Originally posted on this thread)

Well, I woke up this morning, I did not feel my best.
Well, I woke up this morning, did not feel at my best.
My offspring all left me, just a big ole empty nest!

I went down to the kitchen, not a dish was out of place
I went down to the kitchen, nothin was out of place.
You wouldn't have believed the look upon my face!

Went down the hall, there were no clothes on the floor!
I went down the hall, saw no clothes on the floor!
I said to myself, I don't think I can take much more!

Over in the bedroom, that bed was made up tight!
Well I looked in the bedroom, that bed was made up tight!
Everything was in order, but something sure wasn't right!

Well I'm rattling around here like an old die in a cup
I'm just rattling around like a gambler's lucky cup!
Ain't nobody screaming, an' nobody cuttin' up!

You can tell yo' sistah, you can tell yo' brother too.
You can tell yo' sister, an' tell your brother too.
Ya bettah call up yo' Mama, she's getting them Empty Nest blues!!

Subject: Deadbird by mousethief
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:08 AM

Deadbird by mousethief
(Tune: Freebird (Lynyrd Skynyrd))

(Originally posted in this thread)

If I die here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
For I must be travelling on now
There's too many species I gotta be
But if I stayed here with you, Dad,
Things just couldn't be the same
Cos I wanna be a bird, now
And this bird you cannot change

Bye bye, it's been a sweet life
I'll see you in a day or two
But please don't take it badly
If sometimes I sh*t on you
Now I'm back and I'm a bird now
Compared to being human it's not the same
But I came back as a bird, now
And this bird you cannot change

Lord knows, I can't change

Copyright © 2001 Alex Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: Dance In The Mudcat Tavern by Amergin
From: bradfordian
Date: 12 Oct 16 - 05:07 AM

Dance In The Mudcat Tavern by Amergin
(Tune: Lord of The Dance)

Amergin's Comments: Amerginwhoapologisestoanyonewhofeelsleftoutofthisbutifyougetmadathimforityoucanpissoff.

The night has come and the moon is high
The stars are dancing across the sky
From the mists the faeries sing and prance
They come and ask us to join the dance

Chorus:
Dance, dance, wherever you may be
For its the Mudcat Tavern you see
The music's great and the drinks are free
We're all keeping time with the wild Banshee

kat's in the kitchen cooking a meal
Mbo's on the porch playing a reel
Jen's in the yard dancing with her man
Giac's drinking shine and he can barely stand

Chorus

Spaw's in the bedroom talking to the possums
They talk back and he finds it really awesome
Aine's getting up and saying "night to y'all
The hour is late and I forgot my geritol"

Chorus

Mick's in the parlor to organise the sidhe
Saying, "You must all stop working for free"
They all realise they have been maligned
So the faeries join Kaiser on the picket line

Chorus

Bert's in the back singing about his size
It's how you use it I hope you realise
Thomas is speaking in his rhymes
He's been in Faery a thousand times

Chorus

Rick's on the roof a-singing his tunes
Moonchild's down there dancing for the Moon
The Moon gazes down and dances with her
She reaches up and climbs to the stars

Chorus

And I'm in the corner writing a song
The Faery Queen marches through the throng
She picks me up and draws me to the dance
And through the mists we kiss and prance

Chorus

The others come on in through the mists
The FBI is here making a list
There is no need to stop with the coming dawn
For the Mudcat dance goes on and on

Chorus

Subject: The Crash of the Mudcat Server by Amos
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:49 PM

The Crash of the Mudcat Server by Amos
(Tune: On Springfield Mountain)

In Pennsylvania, there did dwell
An NT Server, I knew well
This server's disks and RAM and FAT
were dedicated to the 'Cat.

Chorus:
O toory oory, reety-reet,
Escape, Control and Alt-Delete!

One day this server of the race
A single digit, did misplace
And in a register so deep
A hex code conflict soon did creep!

Chorus

This simple error, small and fine
Soon crashed the Cat's collective mind!
Dismay and grief did quickly spread!
And several Mudcats lost their heads

Brave Dave, the Canuck sailor bold
Upon his floor did quickly fold.
While lost to chat, our gentle Ann
Burned all the cookies in the pan!

Chorus

Joe Offer did his very best
To help dear Allison find a guest
While Max stayed up through half the night
Until the damn machine ran right

While Sorcha, sophocleese and Kat
Feared that they might be going bats
And Amos ran around the halls
Suffering symptoms of withdrawal!

Chorus

But now the Mudcat's back on line
And everything seems to be fine
One moral we can carry back!
If you must get hooked, please get a Mac!

Chorus

Subject: Come All You Loyal Mudcats by Alice
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:47 PM

Come All You Loyal Mudcats by Alice
(Tune: Rocks of Bawn)

Come all you loyal Mudcats,
Wherever you may be,
And don't follow just any webmaster,
You know Max is for you and me.
For you can log on early,
In the clear day light of dawn,
And I know that you'll always be able,
To find your favorite song.

My vocal cords may wear out,
My voice, it may get thin,
And my lips, they are a tremblin',
For the shape that Catspaw's in.
But our voices rise up early,
In the clear day light of dawn,
And I know that we're all able,
To pray while he is gone.

Well, rise up all you Mudcats,
And sing to break of day,
Don't sink into the deep despair,
Of gloom and clouds of grey,
Whatever this old world may bring,
You know your friends are there,
Cause all around the world,
Mudcatters join in prayer.

And Catspaw, he'll return again,
He's here in every thread,
For if you do a forum search,
You'll find old things you've read,
That made you wince or laugh and smile,
The way he only can,
And we know that when he's back here,
Cat scat will hit the fan.

So, blessings on all Mudcats,
And be they near or far,
We sit by cyber firesides,
And drink another jar.
By the flickering lights of monitors,
We slide the silent mouse,
And I know that wherever we're living,
We're together at Max's house.

Alice Flynn

Subject: The Chromosomes Genomical by Bradypus
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:46 PM

The Chromosomes Genomical by Bradypus

We have the very model of the chromosomes genomical
The implications of this feat are really astronomical
We've sequenced every human gene, at least ninety percent of them
Intelligent and cunning too, and using every stratagem
We've introns, exons, codons, genes and bases found in DNA
We've duplicated, replicated, translated it for many a day
It's published on the net, and in the scientific literature
We know we've made our mark, and that our science now is fit for sure

Chromosomes one to twenty-two, and X and Y, there are no more
Are just arrangements of the bases, and of these there's only four
These bases, paired on DNA, contain all that you need to know
For proteins, livers, hearts and brains and anything you want to grow
With letters four the code is made, the letters A, C, G and T
A pairs with T, and G with C, so replication works you see
ATTAC ATTAC A GAG A CAT may not mean much to human eyes
But in your genes the code is clear, more powerful than you realise

The DNA makes RNA, that's carried to the ribosome
And there the processes take place to make use of the chromosome
Three bases at a time are read, an amino acid specified
Then piece by piece the protein's built, the logic cannot be denied
From smallest cell to largest bone, the human body bit by bit
Is built from proteins, or at least a protein is involved in it
And so you see, both you and me, although the notion's comical
Are made and shaped and live and die by instructions genomical

So if your eyes are brown or blue, and if your hair be thick or thin
And if your blood is A or O, and what's the colour of your skin
Your chromosomes have made it so, there's nothing left for you to do
But pass them on, your genes will live in generations after you
A single letter wrong passed on, in future that could spell bad news
That's how genetic defects come, the future genome to confuse
And so we think genes cause disease, but that is not the whole of it
More oft than not things work out right, and that's what keeps the species fit.

You'd think that now the genome's read, there's nothing left for us to do
The truth is very different, let me tell you of this point of view
We know the genes, but by and large we don't yet know what role they play
There's still a lot of work to do to see exactly what they say
And there's more to life than genes, for we react to our environment
So predestination doesn't come just from the genome's government
We're still free souls to choose, and our choice would be quite comical
If we did nothing more now that we've cracked the code genomical

Subject: The Cat Farts Serenade by Áine, Liz the Squeak, &
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:44 PM

The Cat Farts Serenade by Áine, Liz the Squeak, and Paddymac

(Tune: How Much Is That Doggie In The Window)

Chorus:
How much is that kitten in the window,
The one with the odorous bum.
The aroma is one that we should know,
Reminds me of green river scum.


His eyes are the colour of emeralds,
His toothies they shine in the sun,
I would love to hug him and kiss him,
If his butt didn't smell like bad rum.


(Chorus)


He mews as I scratch his ears and hold him,
He nuzzles my cheek with a purr,
He raises his tail in greatest pleasure,
Too bad that his end has no fur!

(Chorus)


The man says there'll be no charge for him, dear
He's free to the first true good home,
But beware of his little SBD's, dear,
He could part the Red Sea with no comb!


(Chorus)

Áine Cooke (proudly owned by 3 normal size alley cats and a 17 lb. Siamese toy-boy who suffer from SBDs)

Subject: California Steamin' by Anonymous
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:41 PM

California Steamin' by Anonymous
(Tune: California Dreamin')


All the songs are gone, (all the songs are gone)
And the sky is gray, (and the sky is gray)
I sought out a tune (I sought out a tune)
From the Mudcat Cafe (from the Mudcat Cafe)

I'd be safe and sound, (I'd be safe and sound)
If it was "Galway Bay", (if it was Galway Bay)
But California Steamin' has led the thread astray!
California Steamin' has led the thread astray!

Stopped into a site I passed along the way,
Oh, I got down on my knees, and I began to say --
You know, I think this song is old,
I think it starts in A (I think it starts in A)

California Steamin', (California Steamin')
Please teach me how to play!
"This kind of song is wrong (this kind of song is wrong)
You should go away (you should go away)

This site is for folk (this site is for folk) in a trad sort of way (in a trad sort of way)
California Steamin' (California Steamin') has led the thread astray!
But if you don' t help me, I'll be lost today (I'll be lost today)
California Steamin' (California Steamin') don' t take this thread away!

CHORUS:
All the songs are gone, and the sky is gray
I sought out a tune from the Mudcat Cafe --
I'd be safe and sound, if it was "Galway Bay"
But California Steamin', has led the thread astray!

Subject: Caitrin and the Geeks by Amos
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:39 PM

Caitrin and the Geeks by Amos
(Tune: Bar'bry ellen)

Amos' Comments: Thanks for the yummie cookies!

When Caitrin to this thread appeared,
Her cookies were appealing!
And soon the galley in my house
Was a mess from floor to ceiling!

I stirred and poured and measured out,
And ruined several aprons!
I broke my wristbone stirring dough
Designed by charmin' Caitrin!

And when the oven doors had closed
And I was done with messing!
I said a prayer to the Cookie God
And asked for Caitrin's blessing.

And when the baking smell arose
I thought it most auspicious
I gobbled down the first one out!
That cookie was delicious!

I ate another few just then
And kept on madly baking!
And soon the counters were all full
And the table nigh to breaking!

Then slowly, slowly, I stood up
My awe for Caitrin mounting!
So many cookies, ne'er I'd seen,
Too many far for counting!

I stacked them up on platters high
When my own waistline was dragging.
And staggered with them to the door
They filled my station wagon.

Then to the office I repaired
All carbo'd out and laggard!
And down the hall, to a table there,
With Caitrin's cakes I staggered.

'Twas early early, in the morn
When first I brought such plenty!
But before noon, I swear 'tis true
The platters all stood empty!

So if you have too many made,
Ye need not trash or bail them!
Just bring them to a Software House
And let the geeks inhale them!!

Subject: By Your Fruits by MMario, Amos and Willa
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:37 PM

By Your Fruits by MMario, Amos and Willa

By your fruits shall ye be known
Whether drupe or pome or berry
Be they grain or nuts or melons
If they give us food for thought

Ye shall reap as you have sown,
Whacky, kind or evil very,
And the fruits that you are sellin'
Tell us truly what is what!

Gather up the fruit you've grown
Wilde oats or Queen Anne's Cherry
Borne on branch or stem or vine
stew to jelly in your pot

Thus the oldest air is known--
Not Greenfleeves or London Derry
The most ancient song in time
Is that Jelly Roll, by Gott!

And when winter winds are blowin,
And are hearts are full of care we
Will recall what you were tellin
And be happy with our lot.

Yes the chill that Winter's blown
Will not stop our making Merry!
We'll not pause for kings or felons,
While the Jelly Rolling's hot!

When the laden tables groan
We will sip a Christmas sherry
In our warm and cosy dwellin
And then dance a wild gavotte

What care we for hearts of stone?
Those whose tonguesa are barbed and serried?
Those who bother us with sellin'?
Dance with us, oh, these shall not!

Where the wild Imagines roam,
Fueled by grape and love and perry,
We abandon cruel melan-
Choly for a wilder trot!

And we shall not dance alone.
Let no one be sedentary,
And the glorious voices swellin'
Make this place a hallowed spot

Yea, though hearts be hard as stone,
Full of gloom extraordinary,
There will be no use rebellin',
Pure enjoyment is our plot.

Wandering through the world alone,
Finding none to share out story
Weary of the world's pell-melling,
With our hearts and spirits shot,

Come as though to spirit home,
To the end of ponderance hoary,
Where the heart alone is telling,
Jelly roll, and sweet Gavotte!

Subject: Bowling With Rutabagas by Amos
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:36 PM

Bowling With Rutabagas by Amos

Bow! Bow! Bowling with Rutabagas
My Uncle Bob bowls the rutabaga way!
Bow! Bow! Bowling with rutabagas!
He slips out of the house at the end of each day!

We've learned where he goes, when the first twilight falls
He's knocking plantains down with his twenty-pound balls
It's kooky and weird, our sad family saga,
My uncle Bob bowls for boiled rutabaga!

The pinboy's a chef, with a tall crinkled hat
He cries every time his 'bagas go "Splat!"
Then he sets up some more, what do you think of that?
Bowling with rutabagas is sure where it's at!

Rutabagas are slimy and smelly and round
And they will not stand up, so they can't be knocked down
But they squash into paste when the balls come around
And the boy with a scraper sets up the next round!

Bow! Bow! Bowling with Rutabagas
Uncle Bob bowls the long night away!
Bow! Bow! Bowling with rutabaga
And he comes home exhausted at the break of the day!

We've tried to dissuade him, but Bob only snorts
We point out that rutabagas are really too short
But he says that our pleas will not stand up in court,
And the size of the target just doubles the sport!

Bow! Bow! Bowling with rutabagas,
Bob bowls for boiled rutabagas at night!
Bow! Bow! Bowling with rutabagas,
And when he gets home he's a terrible sight!

Subject: Bigfoot by EBarnacle
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:35 PM

Bigfoot by EBarnacle
(Melody: Joe Hill; July 21, 1987)

I dreamed I saw Bigfoot last night
As large as you or me;
Sez I, "Bigfoot, you're just a myth."
Sez he, "I'm what you see." [Repeat last line of each verse.]

From San Diego, up through Maine,
In every field and wood,
Where campers meet to tell their tales,
They talk of old Bigfoot.

They tell of him with horror tales,
They talk of him with glee,
If someone goes to take a walk,
They talk of mystery.

The horror tales are all a sham,
I am extremely shy;
The harder that you look for me,
The faster I slip by.

I slip in shadow through the land,
I quietly go by,
You crowd me with development
'Til I've no place to hide.

I dreamed I saw Bigfoot last night
As large as you or me.
Sez I "Bigfoot, you're just a myth."
Sez he, "I'm what you see."

Subject: Better Than You by Amos (Tune: A Few of My Favori
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:33 PM

Better Than You by Amos
(Tune: A Few of My Favorite Things)

I can sing folk songs in roughly right rhythm
I can take insults, and know how to give 'em
I can choose Riesling, from 19-ought-two,
All of this makes me much better than you!

I can pick Dylan tunes even while napping
Remember old folk-songs with no verses flapping
Write lines in pentameter, green grass or blue,
All of which makes me much better than you!

When the threads cross,
When the trolls flame,
When the Mudcat's screwed...
I simply remember I'm better than you,
And then I don't feel so blue!

I can remember the words to Loch Lomond
I can recite all of "Down in the Gloaming"
Cowboy and roustabout, madrigal, blues
I do them all, so much better than you!

I can come up with quatrains round and pretty
Answer attacks with deflection so witty
Speak out so openly, humble and true;
Surely this must make me better than you!

I have a banjo, a mandolin, zither
My wife has left me, but still I don't mith her
I have a Martin, a D-22!
This surely proves I am better than you!

Still I wonder,
From high places,
How it feels to fall,
I notice that 'tho I am better than most,
I don't get much mail
At all!

Dadadeedadadadeedeedadeeda.....

Ching Kaching kachung.....

Subject: Ballade Of The Brave New World by McGrath of Harlo
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:31 PM

Ballade Of The Brave New World by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments: (The title of this thread, "The Brave New World You Ordered's Here,") . . . struck me as well suited for a ballade, a verse form associated with such exponents as Francois Villon and GK Chesterton. For some strange reason out of vogue these days. Ballades can be songs – Georges Brassens has shown how.

We'd seen Godzilla and the rest
And King Kong on his perch on high
And running crowds - but who'd have guessed?
It came out of a clear blue sky.
All on a bright September day
The Towers fell in the morning air
Our silver screen had shown the way -
That Brave New World we ordered's here.

The worst of days, and yet the best,
As thousands of her children die
The broken city stands the test
Our hearts went out to hear the cry.
And how could that be thrown away?
But politics is built on fear
By hollow men with feet of clay -
That Brave New World we ordered's here.

And Patriots are duly blessed
To do whatever they decide
No opportunity is missed
To make a killing on the sly.
For freedom has its price, they say
And freedom's friends are so sincere,
There's money in it anyway -
That Brave New World we ordered's here.

Prince Osman, in some shadowed cave
Your victory it seems is near,
Sweet Liberty steps to her grave -
That Brave New World you ordered's here

Copyright © Kevin McGrath 2003

Subject: Away Upon The Mudcat! By Amos
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:29 PM

Away Upon The Mudcat! By Amos
(Sea Chanty)

Amos' Comments: Fondly tendered to the folkie sailors of the world, who sail the Mudcat everywhere.

Now, MBo writes a mighty tune! Away, the Mudcat!
To save hisself from the Keep of Gloom! We're away upon the Mudcat!

Chorus:
Now the Mudcat sails beyond the law!Away, the Mudcat!
With Pirate Dave and Curmudgeon Spaw! We're away upon the Mudcat!

O, Sailor Dave he keeps the chart. Away, the Mudcat!
But Caitrin keeps young Mbo's heart! We're away upon the Mudcat!

O, the Figurehead is Lady Kat! Away, the Mudcat!
So sailors what d'ye think o' that? We're away upon the Mudcat!

Oh, the Mudcat saves them folkies' souls. Away, the Mudcat!
An' Spaw he saves up possum holes! We're away upon the Mudcat!

Mudcat she weathers any blow! Away, the Mudcat!
With Max aloft, and LEJ below! We're away upon the Mudcat!

So hoist her up, and cast her off! Away, the Mudcat!
We're on the bar! Send Joe aloft! We're away upon the Mudcat!

Chorus:
Away upon the Mudcat! The Mudcat schooner, O!
That Mudcat takes you anywhere, that you would want to go!

Subject: Anonymous, Unreal and Phony by mousethief (Tune:
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:28 PM

Anonymous, Unreal and Phony by mousethief
(Tune: "Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini")

He was afraid to come out in the Mudcat
So personnas around him he wore
He was afraid to be himself in the Mudcat
So he posted as "GUEST" ever more

(two three four tell the people what he wore)
It was anonymous, unreal and phoney, ever-new Mudcat personae
That he wore on his Mudcat forays
Anonymous, unreal and phoney, ever-new Mudcat personae
Who knows who he's gonna be here, today?

(additional verses left as an exercise for the reader)

Subject: All The Fighting, Lord by Amergin (Tune: All My Tr
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:26 PM

All The Fighting, Lord by Amergin (Tune: All My Trials)

Hush my country, don't you cry
You know that we all are born to die
May all the fighting, Lord, soon be over

It's not too late, dear brothers
It's not too late to march together
May all the fighting, Lord, soon be over

As my tears ring out in the moonlit night
I pray you'll lower your rifle sights
May all the fighting, Lord, soon be over

I've got an orange sash given to me
Stitched on the breast are strips of green
May all the fighting, Lord, soon be over

There is a wall they call the Peace Line
Tear it down and let your hearts shine
May all the fighting, Lord, soon be over

Subject: A Song for the Gathering by Matthew Edwards
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:23 PM

A Song for the Gathering by Matthew Edwards

It was on one February evening when frost lay all around,
I walked through Stony Statford, as snow fell to the ground.
I was seeking for a 'Cat house, some contentment for to find,
And music, joy, and laughter to ease my lonely mind.

I called in at the House of York, and there it did me please
To hear sounds of voices singing in sweetest harmonies.
The ale was freely flowing; with glasses raised on high
The Mudcatters were drinking to the one and only Dai.

So fill your glasses to the brim, and let us make a toast
To that scion of statistics, our gentle bard and host.
And if you're tired of wandering along old Watling Street,
Call at the Cock Inn, or the Bull, where music and friends meet.

Subject: A Scouting Song by InOBU, Morticia, Áine, Liz the
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:13 PM

A Scouting Song by InOBU, Morticia, Áine, Liz the Squeak, ivy b*

Add a verse...

The High Court in America
Up holds the old ideals
Keep gays out of Boy Scouting
Leave Scouting to the pedophiles!

Baden-Powell, gawd bless 'im
Stood for Truth and Steadiness
Scouting for boys in his spare time
And avoiding beastliness

Chorus:
Let's sing the song of Scouting!
No rouged lips or pouting,
We sleep outside, all fellas by our side,
It's just guys, no doubting!

Let's not forget the Girl Scouts,
Let's not be shy or scared.
If you find one in the bushes,
Just remember, be prepared!

Come rain or shine or thunder
We'll be camping out of doors,
Eating food that makes us chunder,
And longing for walls and floors.

Missing my far off girl guide,
My god i really need 'er,
There's only old 'Akela' here,
And that friendly boy scout leader.

Chorus

But now the times are changing,
Watch progress onwards tramp,
I didn't know this was what they meant
When they said pitch out the camp.

We Scouts will light a big bonfire
And praise our faggot bearers,
But leave the sparklers home ye lads,
We prefer those 'real' firecrackers!

Chorus

Subject: A New Song for The Gathering by Matthew Edwards
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:11 PM

A New Song for The Gathering by Matthew Edwards

Let me wake up in the morning to the sound of kazoos humming,
And the merry whirr of toothbrushes to greet the dawning day.
The thumping of the cloggies will set the floors a-drumming,
As I stumble over sleeping bags to wash my sins away!

How I long to spend the daytime 'mid the sounds of voices singing,
As all along the High Street 'Catters sing, and dance, and play.
In the pubs of Stony Stratford sweet harmonies'll be ringing,
While on Horsefair Green a hamster's guiding John from Hull astray!

In the evening the 'Catscratch Band will send my feet a-leaping,
Until the dancing's over, and the last notes fade away.
Then I'll climb the stairs of York House where I hope I'll soon be sleeping,
And I'll count the sheep with Eric, and thus end a happy day.

Subject: A Mothers' Day by Spider Tom
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:08 PM

A Mothers' Day by Spider Tom

Spider Tom's Comments:
I think it would be timely to put this on a thread.
There are many Mothers' stories floating about.
Now there is another, based on a true story as told to me by
(I'll let you know when I get her permission)
They say you have no secrets if you know someone who writes.

The Kids had been out playing,
And they ran into the house,
Shouting, come on Mummy,
Look at what we've got,
Their eyes looked so delighted,
And they were so excited,
I said , "Come on kids,
Your gonna' show me, what?"

Their little hands unfolding,
My eyes were now beholding,
A vagabond, a rodent,
A wee mouse,
I kept all my decorum,
A good mum, won't ignore 'em,
I didn't scream,
Or run about the house.

"Oh! Can we keep him, Mommy?"
My kids, are milk and honey,
"We can keep him in a box'
Feed him crumbs, upon a plate,
And so he won't get lonely,
And be the one and only,
Can you take us to the pet shop,
And buy the mouse a mate?"

Now, you know its true, a Mother,
Just like, any other,
Can be weakened by,
Two loving, pleading kids,
I nearly did succumb,
Until, when eating crumbs,
The little mousey,
Ran away, and hid.

Two children, broken hearted,
The mouse, and them were parted,
We wound up in the pet shop,
After all.
I gently, did coerce them,
Me, their mother,
Who did nurse them,
Not mice, but lovely goldfish,
That was my final call.

I find it quite intriguing,
Our cat now, sticks his beak in,
I think he seems to,
Like the look of fish.
Yet if he'd not been lax,
And done his mouse attacks,
We wouldn't own,
Two fishes in a dish.

© Ken Robertson (Story, you know who...) 21/4/2000

Subject: A Better Way by Amos
From: bradfordian
Date: 10 Oct 16 - 05:05 PM

A Better Way (first posted on this thread)
(words by A. and D. Jessup)
(Tune: J. Rodgers)

Amos' Comments: I wrote a song last month or so for Larry Dossey, on the subject of Alternative Therapy! -- he's a senior editor on the board of a publication in these parts on the subject -- and it had him ROTFL.   So it's only fair he should provide inspiration back to Catspaw!

..G
Well, I knew a nurse named Suzy
..G
She used to be a floozy,
..G........................................................C
Until she learned about the laying on of hands.
..C........................................C
Well, she found her patients healing
..C....................................C
And now she's promoting feeling
..C.......................A......A7......................D7
But the doctors on her ward don't understand.
..D7...........................G
She's found a better way.
..G............................C
She's found a better way.
..C...............D7
She says, "I love the way it makes them feel,
..D7.............................D7
And I'm awful glad it's really real.
..D..........................G
She found a better way.

..G................D............................G
Yodelayeee, yodelaaye, yodeloooooo!

Now that surgeon, Billy Kazer,
He was handy with his razor.
He would operat e on organs, bones and toes!.
But he did some conscious growing
Found a whole new way of knowing
Now he straightens out their energetic flows!
He's found a better way.
He's found a better way.
With his powers of perception,
He succeeds without deception
He's found a better way.

Yodelayeee, yodelaaye, yodeloooooo!

I knew a pharmacist named Sam,
He didn't give a damn.
He used to think that drugs could make you well.
Then he finally got the word
And he started learning herbs,
And he told those druggy salesmen, "Go to hell."
He found a better way
He found a better way
Now he hands out astaxanthin
And the old folks take up dancin'
He got a better way.

Yodelayeee, yodelaaye, yodeloooooo!

There was a shrink named Slatter,
He thought people were just matter,
He'd say, "You know, it's all inside your brain."
Then he stepped outside his body
It made the universe look shoddy
And he found out what's behind those funny pains.
He found a better way.
He found a better way.
No more Freudian condemnations,
Now he asks about creations.
It's a better way.

Yodelayeee, yodelaaye, yodeloooooo!

There was an old GP named Harry
He used to be quite scary.
He'd hand out pills to everyone in town.
Then he had a revelation.
And he learnedcommunication
Now the patients come to see himjust to hang around!
He found a better way.
He found a better way.
And they think the world of him,
Although his nurses look quite grim,
He's found a better way.

Yodelayeee, yodelaaye, yodeloooooo!

There was a candy striper, Nancy
Well, her uniform was fancy
But she thought that giving shots was much too hard,
Well she had an inspiration,
Started practicing mediitation
Now she cures them through their auras
From over fifty yards!
She found a better way,
She found a better way!
When those fields get undistorted
They just heal, she has reported,
Its a better way.

Yodelayeee, yodelaaye, yodeloooooo!

Now I know a doc named Larry
He is far from ordinary
He always knows what goes on behind the scenes.
And he says with some effusion,
There is only one conclusion:
The ghost is twice as big as the machine.
He's found a better way.
He's found a better way.
So if you're going to treat the whole,
Don't forget to see the soul,
'Cuz it's a better way.
It's a better way

..C....D7......D#7......G
it's a be--ett--er wa---yyyy!

Subject: You Can't Keep Me From Singing! by Gordon MacDona
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:44 AM

You Can't Keep Me From Singing! by Gordon MacDonald
(Sung to the tune of "How Can I Keep From Singing")

My life flows on, but something's wrong,
I'm caught in consternation.
Whenever I begin to sing,
There's rising agitation.
My singing voice was not my choice,
Fate brought it sweetly winging.
Since Fate's to blame, I now proclaim,
You can't keep me from singing.

My voice is hoarse, but then, of course,
A smooth, sweet voice is boring.
And if a song be sad or long,
I pep it up by roaring.
To sing on pitch is something which,
Was not in my upbringing,
To song off-key sounds fine to me,
And you can't keep me from singing.

If I sing just right, I can incite,
A docile group to riot;
Or to offer me a handsome fee,
If only I'll be quiet.
But I don't bargain with a mob,
Though tar and feathers they're bringing.
Put down that noose and turn me loose!
You can't keep me from singing.

The birds have fled my neighborhood,
Their tiny eardrum shattered,
My neighbors too have said, "Adieu",
But it hasn't really mattered.
My daily mail brings threats of death,
And curses coarse and stinging,
I heed them not - they're a tin-eared lot,
And they can't keep me from singing.

Each living thing its song must sing,
Life sings to life in chorus.
Our song brings courage when we do,
Not know what lies before us.
Our songs of freedom, love, and hope,
Down through the ages ringing,
Cold Death defy, and that is why,
You can't keep me from singing.

Subject: Untitled by Alice
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:42 AM

Untitled by Alice
(Tune of Auld Lang Syne)

Should all the 'catters scratch their heads,
And dare to bring to mind,
A clever thought for these poor threads,
Dead flea, bike seat, orange rind?

We've wandered many a weary night,
Through lists of lyrics fine,
But now discussions make us bored,
Been there, done that, ten times.

We've reached the evil fate of late,
With age, place, face, and kind,
Of writing more about ourselves
Than instruments and rhyme.

So here's a hand for Helen fair
Give us a song of thine,
Many thanks for inspiration here,
And now you've read all mine.

Alice Flynn

Subject: Times Changing by Micca
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:40 AM

Times Changing by Micca

(first posted in this thread)

Come, gather round 'Catters where ever your home
and admit that its time to adjust your time zone
and don't you "fall back" if its spring where your from
If your time to you is worth saving
And you'd better stop winging or you'll sound like a drone
for the clocks they are a changing

Come folkies and poets whose profit is your pen
And keep your eyes open cos its come round again
And of the wedge it may be the end thin
And there's no telling where it is aiming
Oh the loser now will be later to win
For the clocks, they are a changing

Come senators, congressmen, please heed the call
Don't alter our clocks as they hang on the wall
For like Arizona maybe we should have stalled
and against this mad scheme should be rageing
but resistance is useless in church or in hall
For the clocks, they are a changing

Come mothers and fathers through out the land
The time has arrived for us to take stand
Your sons and your daughter are watching the hands
You are ancient and rapidly aging
and explain once again so that they understand
that the clocks they are a changing

The time, it is shown, and gone back at last
And the present now will soon be the past
The first one now will later be last
The tick-tock is rapidly fading
and The slow one now will later be fast
For the clocks , they are a changing

Subject: Roundup, Montana by Alice Flynn
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:37 AM

Roundup, Montana by Alice Flynn
(To the tune of Kilkelly by Peter Jones)

Roundup, Montana, 19 and 60, my darlin' daughter Lucille,
Your Mother has asked me to write you this letter, I hope I can say how we feel.
I know you've been wishin' for a job in the city All the years growin' up on the ranch.
Seems all the young folks are moving away now Just seems like they want a new chance.
The boy from the rimrocks still askin' about you I remember as youngsters you'd play.
I'm goin' to town now, so I'll post this letter, Please write when there's something to say.

Roundup, Montana, 19 and 70, my darlin' daughter Lucille.
The neighbor boy came home from 'Nam in a coffin, it really was a raw deal.
He had much to live for, I don't think his father will ever get over the loss,
I hope you remember to drop them a line, there's been too many payin' that cost.
I'm sure that the city has money to offer, but you know life means more than that,
It's times like the present we think about loved ones, So, please call collect and we'll chat.

Roundup, Montana, 19 and 80, my darlin' daughter Lucille.
The coal money's makin' some changes round here, and the real estate seems like a steal.
Lots a new folks movin' here from the cities, they want their own piece of the land.
Cashin' in houses in L A and Frisco, they buy up whatever they can.
Mother and I were just talkin' bout sellin', we don't know how else to go on.
Ranchin' has always been our way of life, but the times when it paid are all gone.
Seems like you really have found a new home there, we always had hoped you'd come back.
Guess now that you've married that engineer fella, We'd better stop counting on that.

Roundup, Montana, 19 and 90, my darlin' daughter Lucille.
I just finished taken some tourists out hunting, they sure like a real Western meal.
Mother's been cookin' all day for the greenhorns, I really wish she'd take a rest.
Without some retirement it seems we'll keep workin', as long as our health stands the test.
I hate to sell out, you know this land's my father's, he fought the depression and won.
And after his struggles, it seems like I owe him to knuckle down deep and work on.
I guess you don't care about seein' the old place, I know you're all busy with kids.
We still have some horses, I could teach them ridin', You remember old Paint and old Dibs?

Roundup, Montana, the year of 2000, to the daughter of Dusty and Sal,
Your parents have started a dot.com on ranching and asked me to send this email.
They're really too busy to write to you now, cause their IPO's hotter than hell,
So, here is their website, I hope you will visit, along with your husband as well.
We know that your life has a different direction, so the land here is going in trust.
They want to protect it from big subdivisions and if this cuts you out - then it must.
They figured since you never answered their letters except to complain about them,
The life in Montana was not what you wanted, Sincerely, the hired-man, Slim.

Alternate last verse, for Wolfgang:

Roundup, Montana, the year of 2000, to the daughter of Dusty and Sal,
We've gathered the neighbors and your cousins together, now that the ranch is for sale.
We're so glad your coming, your parents are thankful that you will be finally home.
And since you can purchase the land of your father's, the bank can be paid off the loan.
When Dusty came out to the bunk house to tell me, I thought he was saying goodbye,
I never expected to see tears and laughter, but down by the barn we both cried.
His heart's in this land and I'd thought you'd forgotten, but now he and Sal both agree,
The years of their hard times to keep this old homestead will give you a life sweet and free.

Subject: Roll On Columbia by Alice
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:35 AM

Roll On Columbia by Alice


Alice's Comments: (Sorry Woody)


My bicylce made by Columbia Elite,
For my comfort had a soft bicycle seat,
I sped down the street peeling oranges so neat,
The members of Greenpeace would say,

Roll on, Columbia roll on,
Roll on, Columbia roll on,
Your power is p.c. and doesn't take brawn,
So roll on, Columbia, roll on.

I only ate oranges and apples and pears
I protested killings of bison and bears
The loggers were jobless, but I said "who cares",
And all of the vegans would say,

Roll on, Columbia roll on,
Roll on, Columbia roll on,
Your power is veggie, let's graze on the lawn,
So roll on, Columbia, roll on.

The food co-op taught me to stop eating cheese,
To stop using soap or things made out of trees,
But, I found there were many diseases from fleas,
So to all those fanatics I say,

Roll on, Columbia roll on,
Roll on, Columbia roll on,
The power to think for myself isn't gone,
Now roll on, Columbia, roll on.

Alice Flynn

Subject: The Road to Mudrock-O by Alice
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:32 AM

The Road to Mudrock-O by Alice

Alice's Comments: With apologies to the Bingster.


We're off on the Road to Mudrock-o
This camel is tough on the Spaw
Where they're goin', why we're goin', how can we be sure
I'll lay you eight to five that we'll meet Alice and harpgirl.

Off on the road to Mudrock-o
Hang on till the end of the line
I hear this cafe's where they do the dance of the hokey-poke
We'd tell you more but a certain person doesn't get the joke

We're off on the road to Mudrock-o
Well look out, well clear the way, 'cause here we come
The men wear thongs, they play bodhrans, and blow a possum's ass
It seems to me there should be easier ways to get a lass.

Off on the road to Mudrock-o
Hooray! Well blow the pipes, logon the hour,
We may run into gargoyles but we're not afraid to roam
Because we read the story and we end up safe at home
(yeah)

We're off on the road to Mudrock-o
We certainly do get around
Like Webster's Dictionary we're Mudrock-o bound

We're off on the road to Mudrock-o
We certainly do get around
Like a complete set of Shakespeare that you get in the corner drugstore
for a dollar ninety-eight
We're Mudrock-o bound

Or, like a volume of Omar Khayyam that you buy in the
department store at Christmas time for your cousin Julia We're
Mudrock-o bound
(we could be arrested)

Alice Flynn

Subject: Ripple (Flowed Like Water) by Sonja
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:30 AM

Ripple (Flowed Like Water) by Sonja
(Tune: Ripple, words by Robert Hunter, music by Jerry Garcia)
(Parody by Sonja W. Oates ©2001; chords can be found in this thread)

Sonja's Comments: I don't think Jerry would've minded.

If my head did ring with that jolt of sunshine
And my nerves were frayed like a clock unsprung,
Could you hear my breath come through the mucus?
As I blew my nose, it sounded like a gun!

It's a hangover, my thoughts are broken.
Perhaps I'd better stay in bed,
Well, I don't know, I don't give a damn.
It was a party, a really swingin' jam!

Ripple flowed like water,
Now there's many cookies tossed and chunks to blow.

Screw off the cap if your cup be empty,
Your head feels full, and it will be again,
Let it be known the nausea's a- mountin.'
That wine was made by one sadistic man!

Out on the road, I can't see the highway
Between my eyes there's a blur of light.
And where I walk no one could follow,
That zigzag path is from my steps a lone.

Ripple flowed like water,
Now there's many cookies tossed and chunks to blow.

Those who booze it up must wallow,
And if we fall, we're drunk or stoned,
But you can stand, and you are still sober--
If you know the way, won't you take me home?

La da da da da
Da da da da da da .... etc.

Subject: Oh Boy, Danny by Peter Benson and Jeff Porterfield
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:28 AM

Oh Boy, Danny by Peter Benson and Jeff Porterfield (jeffp) (originally posted in this thread)

jeffp's Comments: Here's yet another parody of Danny Boy, written over several pints by myself and a good friend, Peter Benson, a local folksinger originally from Yorkshire.

Oh, Danny boy, they claim that you are Irish
But we both know you're English through and through
And if you really want to know what I wish
I truly wish that I had never heard of you
'Cause every March they make me sing about you
And every drunkard thinks that he can too
And when they miss that high note it's so painful
That if you heard it I think it would kill you too

Oh, Danny boy, when Irish eyes were smiling
It was before they ever heard of you.
In Galway Bay the tides are still retiring
Because that song you caused has made them blue.
So don't come back in summer or in springtime
Don't show your face at state or county fair.
Some drunken sot will sing your praises loudly;
And we find that we must ban your Derry air.

So Danny boy, we'll raise our glasses to you.
And thank the Lord you've left for God knows where.
Black Velvet Band is being sung in lieu of you,
And we would rather go to Hell for her.
But we remember how you raised our glasses,
And made our voices ring the whole night long.
So Danny boy, although we love you dearly
Hit the road and take your misbegotten song.

Subject: Missing the Mudcat on the Banks of the Ohio by BSe
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:26 AM

Missing the Mudcat on the Banks of the Ohio by BSeed

I met my Baby on a thread;
Our souls are one, that's what she said.
She said she'd always be with me,
But the Mudcat's down--where can she be?

(Cho.)
Max, only say you'll bring 'em back:
Without the 'Cat, what good's my Mac?
Each time a weekend rolls around,
I'm all alone, 'cause the threads are down.

We always met, my Baby and me,
At the topmost thread just after three.
We'd play thread-tag 'til time for bed,
But not tonight, 'cause the threads are dead.

It's Friday night, and I'm alone,
All I can do is weep and moan,
All I can do is cry the blues,
My Baby's gone, nuthin' left to lose.

Subject: Message to JennyO & Daylia by Nigel Parsons
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:24 AM

Message to JennyO & Daylia by Nigel Parsons
(with apologies to Noel Coward) (first posted in this thread)

You do it, I do it,
We can learn to send PMs through it,
Let's do it,
Let's join the 'Cat.

Mrzzy do it, Aine do it,
Bodhran players with a brain do it,
Let's do it,
Let's join the 'Cat.

Way back in time did InObu do it
And he's still in the show.
It's time that you do it,
Come on, have a go!

You do it, I do it,
We can learn to send PMs through it,
Let's do it,
Let's join the 'Cat

Subject: I'll Have Guinness Free by Sonja
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:22 AM

I'll Have Guinness Free by Sonja
(Parody of "Isle of Innisfree." by William Butler Yeats; tune: "Dreams of Alwyn" &nbso; Parody lyrics by Sonja W. Oates © 2001)

I've met some folks who say that I'm drinker,
And I've no doubt there's truth in what they say,
But, sure, body's bound to be drinker
When 'e's got aches and pains and bills to pay.
A precious thing is drinking in an ale house.
It takes yer mind off work and misery,
Especially when somebody buys a round f'r all,
And I'm in 'eav'n, 'cause I'll 'ave Guinness free..

But draughts don't last, too soon ye reach the bottom,
And soon I'm back to stern reality.
But, though the paths to it were thorn'd and winding,
I'd choose to go where I'll 'ave Guinness free.. (repeat last line)

(guitar only)

I wonder if man can find in heaven
All the sweet things denied 'im 'ere below.
They say the music there is sung by angels--
Per'aps the ale there also freely flows.
So, when the bonds of this old earth I shrug off,
My dear old pub perhaps I will behold,
The mates I love around the old bar gathered,
With bended elbows singing songs of old.
So to prepare for meeting old St. Peter

I'll go to mass and say my rosary,
So when I take my leave of earthly sorrows
I sure will go where I'll 'ave Guinness free.

Subject: The Hash My Father Scored by Micca
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:20 AM

The Hash My Father Scored by Micca


Micca's Comments: Here's one for the parodiests

Tune: the Sash my father wore

It was gold and it was beautiful and it cost 2 pence a gram
He scored it on the ferry coming back from Amsterdam
He said it's just like Lebanese from the bygone days of yore
And when I can I like to smoke the hash my father scored

That green grass and resin so fine
It gives you a feeling divine
It would raise both the dying and the living
That green grass and resin so fine.

When my father died he left to me his house and all his tin
I opened the Good book and found a Kilo stashed within
And now when I'm unhappy and sometimes when I'm bored
I light a spliff in memory of the hash my father scored

That green grass and resin so fine
It gives you a feeling divine
It would raise both the dying and the living
That green grass and resin so fine.

But now the years have passed and gone and all that hash has flown
You can't get stuff like that these days I've even tried home-grown
But I can still remember how upward I have soared
Outflying British Airways on the hash my father scored

That green grass and resin so fine
It gives you a feeling divine
It would raise both the dying and the living
That green grass and resin so fine.

It was gold and it was beautiful and it cost 2 pence a gram
He scored it on the ferry coming back from Amsterdam
He said it's just like Lebanese from the bygone days of yore
And when I can I like to smoke the hash my father scored

written by Mike Patterson

Subject: Fleece Mom and Dad! by Genie
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:18 AM

Fleece Mom and Dad! by Genie
(Can be sung to "¡Feliz Navidad!" by Jose Feliciano)
(Words by Jeanene Pratt ©1999 (3rd verse ©2001)

Genie's Comments: Here's one I wrote 2 years ago for our church's "Alternative Gift Market and Buy-Nothing Day" project.

Chorus:
Fleece Mom and Dad! Fleece Mom and Dad!
Fleece Mom and Dad! Don't spare their budget, make the kids feel glad! (Repeat)

We'll make the kids want a brand new Nintendo
Some Pokemons and a Tickle me Elmo!
And Ken and Barbie--so Wal-Mart can sell mo'
And fill up those shopping carts!

Chorus

For many months how the kids have implored 'em
For Beanie Babies--just watch people hoard 'em--,
Video games to relieve kiddies' boredom,
And the latest trading cards!

Chorus

Letters to Santa can be so heart-rending
With 20-page "gimme" lists that they're sending!
It's patriotic this year to be spendin',
So our bottom line stands hard!

Chorus

For many months how the kids have implored 'em
For Beanie Babies--just watch people hoard 'em--,
Video games to relieve kiddies' boredom,
And the latest trading cards!

Chorus

And the bottom line stands hard!

Subject: Enron-ron-ron by mousethief
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:17 AM

Enron-ron-ron by mousethief
(Tune: Da Doo Ron Ron)

I bought it on a Monday, twenty bucks a share
The Enron-ron-ron, the Enron-ron
Now it's down to twenty cents, and going south from there
The Enron-ron-ron, the Enron-ron
Yeah twenty bucks a share
Yeah going south from there
Now all my saving's gone
The Enron-ron-ron the Enron-ron.

They used to be the big name in the power game
The Enron-ron-ron the Enron-ron
Now they can't afford to keep their ballpark name
The Enron-ron-ron the Enron-ron
Yeah they owned the power game
Yeah they gave the field a name
Now they're on the welfare line
The Enron-ron-ron the Enron-ron

The Congress is in outrage and begins to yell
The Enron-ron-ron the Enron-ron
What happened to this firm that lined our wallets so well?
The Enron-ron-ron the Enron-ron
Yeah they begin to yell
Yeah it lined their wallets well
Now that cash-cow is gone
The Enron-ron-ron the Enron-ron

Copyright ©2001 Alex Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: Don't Think Once by mousethief
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:14 AM

Don't Think Once by mousethief
(Tune: Don't Think Twice (Dylan))

It ain't no use in turnin' on your brain, babe
Like you never done before
It ain't no use in turnin' on your brain, babe
You don't need it any more
When Limbaugh's on, just set your dial
Sit down, kick back, and listen for a while
Then say "ditto" with a vacant smile
Don't think once, it's alright.

It ain't no use in checkin' out the facts, babe
Rush swears that it's all true
Now it ain't no use in checkin' out the facts, babe
Would Rush ever lie to you?
There's no need to even give a thought
To whether what he says is true or not
Some say he's lying, but that's just a liberal plot
Don't think once, it's alright.

It ain't no use in getting mad at me, now
If you hate this little song
Said it ain't no use in getting mad at me, babe
If your liberal friends sing along
There's no point raising your voice to complain
It's so much nicer to shut off your brain
And Rush says he's just there to entertain
Don't think once, it's alright.

©2001 Alex Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: Do You Know The Way To Macramé? by reggie miles
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:12 AM

Do You Know The Way To Macramé? by reggie miles

reggie's Comments: Here's yet another song that has spurt forth from the warped edges of a mind that many say would have been better left unused. Written to the tune of, as if you hadn't guessed already, Do You Know The Way To San Jose?

Do you know the way to macramé?
I get the knots all wrong.
The string's so long.
I lose my way.

Do you know the way to macramé?
I've tried embroidery
Knitting,
Even some crochet.

Making purses, belts and headbands,
Add some beads. How does it look so far?
In a week, maybe two, a strap for your guitar,
Weeks turn into years how quick they pass.

Can you guess?
What I made next?
It's a coaster for your glass.

I've got lots of friends who macramé.
Think I'll give it a try,
And make a tie with macramé.

Do you know the way to macramé?
Ma, ma, mama, mama, ma, macramé,
Ma, ma, mama, mama, ma, macramé.

Break

Hanging plant and candle holders,
Made of rope or string or even twine.
Add a branch from a tree.
Now don't it look fine?
Tie your rows of knots in a straight line.

You'd never guess,
The weeks I've spent,
Tying knots and killing time.

Do you know the way to macramé?
Ma, ma, mama, mama, ma, macramé,
Ma, ma, mama, mama, ma, macramé.

Subject: The Devil Went Down to Dingle by Rich
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:09 AM

The Devil Went Down to Dingle by Rich (Stupidbodhranplayerwhodoesn'tknowanybetter)
(Tune: The Devil Went Down To Georgia)

The Devil went down to Dingle, he was looking for a soul to steal,
A little trip to the side for polkas and slides, he was tired of jigs and reels.
'Twas a ceilidh night in the pub's dim light and a man played the fiddle hot!
Well a Kerryman would be easy prey, or so the Devil thought!
The Devil said, "Back home on Downing St I've been known to play myself",
(And he insincerely bent his arm to drink the young man's health),
Says the Devil, "You play a fine fiddle, lad, but if you take from me this cue"
" 6 counties I hold against your soul cause i think I'm better than you!"

The boy said my name's Padraig, and it might be a sin,
But I'll take your bet, you heathen Brit, cause I'm the best that's ever been!
Paddy, you best play lively now, no time to play slow airs,
'Cause Hell's broke loose in Kerry, and the devil don't play fair.
And if you win your island home will finally be whole,
But if you lose the Devil takes your soul!

The Devil opened up this case and he said I'll start this show
And the whole world looked the other way as he stepped on Padraig's toe.
And he pulled a bit of rosin from a fancy velvet sack,
And played a tune so foul it'd curl the hair off of Margaret Thatcher's back.
When the Devil finished Padraig said, "That's pretty weak, old hoss!"
"So sit down in that chair right there, let me show who's the boss."

Kid on the Mountain! Mother and Child! Sweeney's Polka! Miss McLeod's!
Bucks of Oranmore, Harvest Home,
A slide whose name's no longer known,
Plough and the Stars! Doctor O'Neills!
The Foxhunter's (both the jig and the reel)!
Paddy finished his rake with the Flowing Bowl
And clearly he would be keeping his soul.

The Devil bowed his head because he felt a little sick,
With the tunes of 32 counties, Padraig had him licked!
But as previously mentioned the Devil don't play fair
And the borders on the map still show those counties six as theirs.
But as for the true victor well, you and I both know,
And I'm proud to say the Devil stays away when and Irishman lifts his bow.

Subject: The Day They Slowed Ol' Mudcat Down by mousethief
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:06 AM

The Day They Slowed Ol' Mudcat Down by mousethief
(with apologies to J. Robbie Robertson)

Alex Riggle's my name
And I code data runs for Boeing
And I like surfin' the web
While my programs are up and going
Mudcat was a wonderful find
I could hang there and enlighten my mind
There's not much to do while my code is engaged
Except hang out on the Mudcat "all threads" page

But the day they slowed ol' Mudcat down
I got an error warning
The day they slowed ol' Mudcat down
My afternoon was boring
I went
Wah, wa-wa-wah, wa-wah
Wa-wah, wa-wah, wa-wa-wah, wah wah

I emailed my wife at her office
Till finally she said to me,
"Look, I've got work to do.
Don't mail me so much, sweetie."
Now I don't mind choppin' code
And waiting for my programs to load
But once they are running I get bored
I like surfin' to Mudcat, but Oh Lord,

The day they slowed ol' Mudcat down (etc.)

Like my father before me,
I'm a workin' slob
And like my mother before me,
I took an office job
I was 23, loud and brave
When I started writin' code all day
These data jobs take so long to run
While I'm waiting I want to have a little fun...

The day they slowed ol' Mudcat down (etc.)

(C) 2000 Alex E. Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: Comin' Through The Rye by Alice
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 11:04 AM

Comin' Through The Rye by Alice


Alice's Comments: Since we are so close to Burns night, I have such tunes running through my mind.


Gin a body meet a body, comin' tho' the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body, need a body cry?
Ilka poet has her lyric,
No fleas on me, say I
And all the lads they smile on me, when comin' thro' the rye.

Gin a body meet a body, comin frae the well,
Gin a body kiss a body, need a body tell?
Ilka cycle seat caused callous,
Let me walk, say I
And all the lads they smile on me, when comin' thro' the rye.

Gin a body meet a body, comin' frae the town,
Gin a body greet a body greet a body, need a body gloom,
Ilka orange is sweet and juicy,
So they say am I,
And all the lads they lo'e me weel, And what the waur am I?

Subject: The Birthday Song by Irish sergeant
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 10:57 AM

The Birthday Song by Irish sergeant
(Sung to the tune of Silver Threads among the Gold)

Irish sergeant's Comment: I post a parody for you. If you know anyone with a really good sense of humour or someone you don't care if you offend it is a birthday song. Like "Happy Birthday", any name can be inserted instead of "Darling". I thought it up on the spur of the moment at a reenactment for someone's birthday one year. So far, people have been laughing too hard to kick my tailfeathers for singing it.

Darling you are growing ancient,
Rocks don't live as long as you.
You're not quite as old as God is,
But you're older than primordial stew.
Yes, Oh Darling you will be, will be,
Older than the rocks and trees.
Yes, Oh darling you will be,
Older than the rocks and trees.

Subject: Banks of the Ohio (Revisited) by Sonja
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 10:55 AM

Banks Of The Ohio (Revisited) by Sonja

Chorus:
Only say that you'll be mine,
In no other's arms entwine,
Down beside where the waters flow,
Down by the Banks of the Ohio.

I asked my love to take a walk,
Down the aisle to with me to go.
Down beside, where the waters flow,
Down by the banks of the Ohio.

(Chorus)

I said, "Oh, please don't do me wrong,
But I'm near five months along."
He said, "How do I know it's mine
Just because we have entwined?"

(Chorus)

I held a knife against his shirt,
Because he was a total jerk!
He cried, "Oh, baby, can't you see
That I am unprepared for paternity!"

(Chorus)

I took him by his hairy, big hand,
And I led him down where the waters stand.
He cried, "Oh, crap!" as I pushed him in
And watched him as he floated by.

(Chorus)

I started home 'twixt twelve and one;
I cried, "Oh, Ma! What have I done?
Killed the only feller I loved
Cause he done knocked me up and run!"

(Chorus)


Parody lyrics by S. W. Oates ©2001

Subject: All Around My Fat by Penny Ward
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 10:52 AM

All Around My Fat by Penny Ward (submitted by Micca)

Lyrics by: Penny Ward
Tune: All around my hat (Traditional)

Chorus:
All around my fat
I will wear the Playtex Girdle
And all around my fat
For an evening and a day
And if anyone should ask me
The reason why I'm wearing it
It's all for my true love
Who thinks I'm built this way

Verse1
Take half a pound of talcum
And a small jar of Vaseline
A shoehorn comes in handy
It's the biggest you've ever seen!
You put it all together
And you will plainly see
I'm a different shape completely
And in abject agony

Chorus

Verse 2

The other night he bought me
A small box of lingerie
All frothy lace and satin
The colour of ivory
I went to change and left him
Anticipating hedony
So much for Janet Reger
I can't get them past my knees!

Chorus

Verse3

Fare the well Weight Watchers
And fare the well the step class
Three stone have I gained
And my waistline I have lost
I'll eat and I'll be merry
Dispense with guilt and calories
I'll stuff the sodding 'F' plan
It's a fry up for me tea!

Subject: A Bumbling Englishman by The Shambles
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 10:41 AM

A Bumbling Englishman by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments: After all I said about parody, I have written one. Well it's not meant to be a parody of A Rambling Irishman, I have just stolen the tune to make a point. A naive point may be but I had this dream the other night where the whole of Ireland, North and South joined in one huge session and danced together . . . But what do I know, I'm just a bumbling Englishman? I do so love the music though.


There was a bumbling Englishman,
Ambition in him burning.
He'd seen all those 'Riverdancing' shows,
And he became determined.
He bought him a fiddle of great renown,
And it cost him lots of 'fivers'.
He vowed he play that fiddle too,
Just like Eileen Ivers.

He went and sold his guitar,
Sold his guitar, sold it to his big brother Andy.

Eileen could do no wrong in his eyes,
A star that would not tarnish.
He coated his fiddle in 'NITROMORS',
To get off all that varnish.
He painted that poor fiddle blue,
To initate his hero.
His lust and ambition you could not fault,
But his taste and talent was zero.

He went and sold his guitar,
Sold his guitar, sold it to his big brother Andy.

When he started scraping away,
People left the area.
He was quickly left all on his own,
Just like he had Malaria.
There was one tune, he was determined to play,
It was poor old 'Fanny Power'.
If she could have heard it the way he played,
She'd have prayed for her final hour.

He went and sold his guitar,
Sold his guitar, sold it to his big brother Andy.

Andy said if he carried on,
He'd take that fiddle and burn it
. So he thought he would cross the Irish Sea,
What better place to learn it?
Found himself lost in the North,
Without much rhyme nor reason.
Looking for a place to learn his tune,
In the middle of the marching season.

He went and sold his guitar,
Sold his guitar, sold it to his big brother Andy.

When he came to a barricade,
They'd let him go no further.
Did not notice the stony glares,
Intent on bloody murder.
He sat down to play his tune,
And he didn't need to say it.
A young lad took his whistle out,
And showed him how to play it.

He went and sold his guitar,
Sold his guitar, sold it to his big brother Andy.

An old man came from the other side,
He could not stand his scratching.
He stepped up smart and took his bow,
And now the notes were matching.
A flute joined in and started a reel
And then the dancing started.
He soon forgot his violin,
For his dancing was whole-hearted.

He went and sold his guitar,
Sold his guitar, sold it to his big brother Andy.

So many people played that day,
They'd forgotten why they came there.
Thanks to that bumbling Englishman,
It never was the same there.
They thought it was a good idea,
To send him where there was trouble.
For as soon as he started to play his tune,
They'd all leave at the double.

He went and sold his guitar,
Sold his guitar, sold it to his big brother Andy.

The moral of this tale is clear,
That when you've nearly lost it.
The very best ones to sort it out,
Are the very ones that caused it.
And where is the hero of our tale,
Who's not been heard of latterly.
When he's not peace-making for the U.N.
He's understudy for Michael Flatley.

He went and sold his guitar,
Sold his guitar, sold it to his big brother Andy.

Roger Gall 1999.

Subject: 1999 Was the date of the year by Dan Milner
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 10:38 AM

1999 Was The Date Of The Year by Dan Milner


Dan's Comments: This parody of the great Irish ballad "Master McGrath" (always pronounced M'Gra') humorously chronicles Mudcatter Frank McGrath's visit to New York City in the Summer of 1999 including his sales effort at a large computer software show for the financial industry, his shopping expedition and his performance at The Blarney Star Tavern with Andy O'Brien, Dan Milner, Bob Conroy and a number of fine New York singers. Frank's performance was nothing short of brilliant and included his very moving original song "The Callows." However, one rhymester decided to follow an old Irish custom by writing a fictitiously humorous account about the evening the following morning.


1999 was the date of the year
A software salesman from Ireland came here
To take all our dollars and carry them awa'
"And give them some culture," says ould Frank M'Gra'.

'Twas at Hilton Towers that place of renown
The computer trade show in New York went down
With Wall Street tycoons and financial swells
Perusing the programs all whistles and bells.

Well Frank walked the floor with confidence strong
And told all the bankers he could right all their wrongs
With programs discrete and secure and so fine.
And he promised delivery in good Irish time.

The show now was ended, Frank's order book filled
And the pastures of Wall Street our hero had tilled.
But then says he, "There's just one thing more,
I'll have to visit Macy's departmental store."

With 2 children in Nenagh and a wife to preside
If he came home empty handed they all would deride
His elegant effort in New York's fair town
And greet his return with a scoff and a frown.

The shopping completed he next set his sights
On New York's traditional musical heights
To the Blarney Star tavern he then turned his eyes
To return back to Nenagh with a folksinging prize.

There was Andy from Killarney and Bob from the Isle
And Deirdre from Connecticut and Bonnie likewise
The American champion he too was there
And all sang that night with an elegant flair.

The last to the stage was our hero so mild
And he started with a ballad so rare and so wild
'Twas "The Finding of Moses" by Thomas Moran.
The previous singers then got up and ran.

Two more from Frank and the crowd they did roar
"Bedad1" then they cried, "We hope you don't know more.
When's the next plane to Ireland?" they politely enquired
And to a waiting taxi ould Frank he was squired.

Now M'Gra' he looked up and he sagged his ould tail
Informing the audience, "Sure, I know what you mean.
'Tis the same thing in Ireland and Britain also
Where my brand of folksinging is not all the go."

Once more back to Nenagh our hero did stride
With parcels from Macy's hanging down from his side.
He's cured of folksinging in Columbia the fair.
He's back in Tipperary and glad to be there.

Copyright 1999 Dan Milner.

Subject: The Whiskey The Girl and the Rebel by Jennifer
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 05:23 AM

After reading this list and nearly dying of laughter I was inspired to write this song. It combines whaling, murder, whiskey, and of course rebellion into one happy little tune -- all the cliches I could find in the list. So sorry for inflicting this on you, I just want to post it before the creative urge leaves me. Tried to follow the rules here -- I think a new one should be that all placenames have to end with '-O'. Another thing I've noticed -- and tried to use here -- is that rhyming is -never- perfect in an Irish song. Anyone else noticed this?

Jennifer

The Whiskey, the Girl, and the Rebel

My name is O'Reilly, I'm a sailor of yore
I've sailed for the whales from the far western shore
'Twas on May thirty in nineteen sixteen
I joined the bold rebels with their whiskey so keen

My dearest love Sally said "Do not ye go,"
"To the wilds and the mountains of Ireland-O"
"But I must go," I cried, "for my captain so lean"
"Has fled to the rebels, with their whiskey so keen."

My Captain I'd met him in Botany Bay
I found him while wanderin', on a cold wintry day
He cried, "I want a sailor for to hunt on the main"
He signed me and fed me with whiskey so keen

So long years I've traveled now, far on the seas
Beaten and bitten, by the cat and the fleas
So I've gone to Dublin, where me love Sally Breen
Cannot hold me back from the whiskey so keen

Sally cried, "Willie, I pray ye, don't go,"
'Tis treason and murder, tae hell ye will go,"
I said, "You are a Briton and I'm Irish Free,"
"I'll slay you and drink of the whiskey so keen."

She cried, "Dearest Willie don't murder me dead,"
A raven it came to me shoulder in dread.
She gazed at the raven as I drew my knife keen
"I'll come back to haunt you, o'er your whiskey so keen."

Well, Sally was right and her ghost came for me
Wi' blood on her fingers, her breast and her knees
And her ghost's sad screaming, the moans and the keens
It drove me to drinkin' the whiskey so keen

I fled to the mountains, the eyries so high
And fought 'gainst the British for proud liberty
I've killed me some Tommies, but was captured in green
And now I will die without whiskey so keen

And now as I stand here, o'er gallows so high
And wait for to hang, twixt the earth and the sky
Well, I wish I'd listened, tae Sally o' Breen,
For ne'er more will I sip from the whiskey so keen.

I hope this comes out OK and readable. Don't think it was too bad for a Yiddish-American.

Jennifer

Subject: Where My Heart Softly Roams by Amergin
From: bradfordian
Date: 08 Oct 16 - 05:06 AM

Where My Heart Softly Roams by Amergin

Feet stomping on the ground
Crunching the ice covered snow
Ears turning red and stinging
As the frozen wind begins to blow
The morning sky is clouding over
Snowflakes slowly start to appear
I gaze at the snow laden mountainside
And find myself wishing you were here

Cars slowly roll down the main street
Snow is packed tightly on the road
I gently balance down the walkways,
Feeling the beat of my frozen load
The hills shine bright in the cloudy sun
Absorbing the dim afternoon light
I imagine your shadow beside me
And smile with infinite delight

The fairgrounds are a lake of snow
With sleds sailing across the deep
Snowballs fly across the playground
As the children run, laugh, and leap
The cigarette smolders on the ice
As I trounce my way back home
Feeling your thoughts are with me
Wherever my heart softly roams

Amergin

Subject: Wasn't That A Mighty Storm? by Jerry Rasmussen
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:35 PM

Wasn't That A Mighty Storm? by Jerry Rasmussen
(Words and music by Jerry Rasmussen)

Jerry's Comments:  There are countless songs about Noah, and even some with this same title.  Noah has become a rather humorous character, more like a children's book hero than a real man.  The biblical story is quite different.  Noah was a man who walked with God.  I think there are only three men in the bible who were said to have walked with God.  When God was so fed up with the way that his people were living that he wanted to destroy the world, he said that he would spare us if he could find one righteous man.  That man was Noah.  There's also a great lesson to be learned in the story about Noah.  The Lord told Noah to do something that seemed foolish to everyone.  Perhaps to Noah, too.  But, Noah did what he was told, despite all the ridicule heaped upon him.  We would all do well to see Noah's obedience to the Lord as a template for our own lives.


God looked down on the world he made
And swore that he'd destroy the land
But he promised that he'd give us one more chance
If he could find one righteous man

CHORUS:
Wasn't that a mighty storm?
Wasn't that a mighty storm?
When God spread the waters all over the land
Wasn't that a mighty storm?

Now, Noah was a man who walked with God
In the shining gospel way
He always did his best to do God's will
And to serve him every day

(Chorus)

Noah built a boat out of gopher wood
300 cubits long
It had to withstand them stormy tides
So he made it mighty strong

(Chorus)

First he sent out a raven
And then he sent a dove
The dove came back with an olive branch
As a symbol of God's love

(Chorus)

Now everybody knows about Noah
Calling them animals two by two
Brother let us pray on judgment day
God takes me and you

Subject: Singin' With The Big Choir by Genie
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:33 PM

Singin' With The Big Choir by Genie
(words and music by R. J. Pratt ©1996, 2002)

 Chorus:

          F                                   C           Am
    Tonight I'm singin' with the big choir!
  F                 G                       C      Am
    We gonna sing our fav'rite hymn!
 F                 G          C         Am
    We gonna set the night on fire
                F           G       C          Am
    In the hills over Bethlehe-e-e-e-em,*
                F             G       C
    In the hills over Bethlehem.

    G                               C
 I only been a angel for a little while, /
          G                            C
 Got plenty o' millenia** to go
      G                                             C
 Before they let me join the choir of seraphim
          F                     G                                G                                          C
 And hear ol' Gabriel blow.              // But I hear they need a multitude to sing tonight,
                               (Pa pa pa pa pa Hal-le-lu!)****
       G                                            C             F   C
 "Hosannah In The Highest" is the song. (Ho-san-na!) 
        G                                       C
 We gotta do a concert for some shepherd folk.
                F                                        G
 Must be somethin' pretty special goin' on!

     So, tonight I'm singin' with the big choir!
     We gonna sing our fav'rite hymn!
                                                (Ho-san-na-na-na!)
     We gonna set the night on fire
     In the hills over Bethlehe-e-e-e-em,*
     In the hills over Bethlehem.

                G                                   C
Now they never had a banjo in the choir before
                                                                (banjo riff)
              G                                         C
And if I mess up, they prob'ly won't again,
                                                       (banjo SNAFU) 
          G                                                C
So tonight you bet I'm gonna make the most of it,
            F                             G
Doin' back-up for the cherubim!


                                           (banjo riff)

     Yes, tonight I'm singin' with the big choir!
     We gonna sing our fav'rite hymn! (Ho-san-na!)
     We gonna set the night on fire
     In the hills over Bethlehe-e-e-e-em,*
     In the hills over Bethlehem.
 

         G                                         C
They tell me the occasion for this special gig,
        G                                       C
This intergenerational**** angel jam
        G                               C
Is a birthday party for the boss's kid,
         F                         G
The one they call "The Lamb."

                G                                                 C
There'll be no one but some shepherds in the audience
       G                                           C                               G                                                       C
To hear our awesome carolling sublime,     //     But they say in time the whole wide world may sing along,
                                                  (La la la la la Hal-le-lu!)
         F                                    G
It's a oldie but a goodie for all time.

     So, tonight I'm singin' with the big choir!
     We gonna sing our fav'rite hymn!
                                                (Ho-san-na-na-na!)
     We gonna set the night on fire
     In the hills over Bethlehe-e-e-e-em,*
     In the hills over Be-e-thlehem!

              ------------------------------------------
 * The "hem" in "Behlehem" is sung over an ascending scale of 5 notes.  The "e" is, of course, short (not "Bethleheem").
 ** Sing: "...plennya millenia ta go..."
 *** The "lu" in "Hallelu" is sustanined and overlaps the first words of the next line
 **** Sing "...intergenerayshnl..."

 © 2002  R. Jeanene Pratt  [e-mail]

Subject: Shepherd Of My Soul by khandu
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:30 PM

Shepherd Of My Soul by khandu

In the trial and tribulation of the battle that never ends
Of the flesh against the Spirit, sometimes I wonder who will win.
But I know that Jesus loves me
And by His love I know I'll gain control
He'll never leave me nor forsake me
He's the Shepherd of my soul

Like the thief beside the Master, condemned to die for his life of crime,
I, too, feel I'm a disaster in all my life, in all my time
But I know that Jesus loves me
And He can make a diamond out of coal
He will lead me to Perfection
He's the Shepherd of my soul.

Holy Spirit, open my eyes to the ways I've been deceived.
Holy Spirit, open my heart to the One I should believe.
For He's the solid rock of ages, He'll never crumble and never fail.
And though the storm around me rages, the ememy shall not prevail.

Because I know that Jesus loves me
So I'll keep on pressing onward to the goal.
And I know that I will reach it.
He's the Shepherd of my soul.

Copyright 1992-khandu

Subject: Shelter From the Rain by reggie miles
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:28 PM

Shelter From The Rain by reggie miles 2003

He was just another stray,
Who wandered by one day,
Lookin' hungry, mistreated, far from home.

With hair all gray and shaggy,
And a coat, so soiled and tattered,
A lonely broken beggar left to roam.

He was askin' for a handout.
With trembling' hands and desperate eyes,
He just needed a little something to ease the pain,

I didn't have much that I could spare.
But I shared what I had with that stranger there,
A little food and some shelter from the rain.

Shelter from the rain, we all need shelter from the rain.
When troubles shower down upon you and you're bending from the strain.
The storms of life will pass in time and the sun will shine again,
But until then we all need, we all need shelter from the rain.

There's a lesson here to learn.
How the tides of life can turn,
And leave us lost, without a prayer of finding hope.

We rush headlong through our lives,
To get ahead or just survive,
Doing what we can and try 'n' cope.

Only the bravest take the time,
To help those who fall behind,
To lead them back and help them find the way.

If we all pitch in and do our part,
To lend a helping hand with an eager heart,
Every tomorrow will be a brighter day.

Shelter from the rain, shelter from the rain.
Extend a hand in kindness and you won't do so in vain.
When you offer help to others to ease their sadness and their pain,
You can mend a broken life, when you offer shelter from the rain.

Shelter from the rain, we all need shelter from the rain.
When troubles shower down upon you and you're bending from the strain.
The storms of life will pass in time and the sun will shine again,
But until then we all need, we all need shelter from the rain.

Yes until then we all need, we all need shelter from the rain.

Subject: Raise Your Voices In The Song by Genie
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:25 PM

Raise Your Voices In The Song by Genie
(Words & music by R. Jeanene Pratt)
Repeat last chorus, a cappella, softly on the first 2 lines, then fortissimo, with guitar on the last two lines. 4/4 time

Ma(Am)ny, many years ago, (Dm)in a time of strife and woe,
(E)In a little vi(E7)llage they call Be(Am) thleh(E)em,
G(Am)od sent down a legacy, (Dm)precious gift for you and me,
(E)Holy baby b(E7)orn to be our s(Am)avi(E)or and fri(Am)end.

An(Am) gel voices ra(E)ng across the winter sky
(Am)Telling all the wo(Dm)rld the story o(E)f the holy bi(E7)rth!
Jo(Am) yous! Joyous! W(E)hat a celeb(E7)ration!
A(Am) ngel voices sa(Dm)ng the song of Pe(E)ace O(E7)n Ea(Am)rth!

Sh(Am)epherds toiling, so they say, (Dm)in the fields not far away,
(E)Heard music fl(e7)oating through the sk(Am)ies ab(E)ove.
(Am)From their labors long they st(Dm)opped to listen to the song,
(E)Then went to Be(E7)thlehem to sh(Am)ow th(E)eir lo(Am)ve.

They st(Am)opped, they hushed, they li(E)stened while the angels sang,
(Am)Telling them the gr(Dm)eatest story th(E)ey had ever he(E7)ard.
Then j(Am)oyous! Joyous! They jo(E)ined the celebr(E7)ation,
Ra(Am)ised their voices i(Dm)n the song of "Pe(E)ace o(E7)n ea(Am)rth!"

Ce(Am)nturies have passed away. (Dm)Do the people of today
Kn(E)ow the deeper me(E7)aning of this se(Am)ason of the ye(E)ar?
M(Am)any times the neon lights h(Dm)ide that ancient star from sight,
(E)And the song of pe(E7)ace can be so h(Am)ard t(E)o he(Am)ar.

So st(Am)op! Hu(Am)sh! L(E)isten while the angels sing.
(Am)Open up your he(Dm)art and soul to H(E)eaven's healing wo(E7)rds,
Then, j(Am)oyous! Joyous! Come, jo(E)in the celebr(E7)ation,
Ra(Am)ise Your Voices I(Dm)n The Song of "Pe(E)ace n(E7)n ea(Am)rth!"

The a(Am)ngels' song is still alive. In fa(Dm)ith and love it can survive,
(E)And it gives our he(E7)arts a reason t(Am)o rejo(E)ice.
You m(Am)ay not hear it in the air, but i(Dm)f you pause or say a prayer
(E)You will hear it e(E7)cho in that st(Am)ill, sm(E)all vo(Am)ice.

So st(Am)op! Hu(Am)sh! L(E)isten while the angels sing
(Am)Telling all the wo(Dm)rld the story o(E)f the holy bi(E7)rth!
Then, j(Am)oyous! Joyous! Come, jo(E)in the celebr(E7)ation,
Ra(Am)ise Your Voices I(Dm)n The Song of "Pe(E)ace n(E7)n ea(Am)rth!"

©1993, 1999, 2002 R. Jeanene Pratt [e-mail]

Subject: Raise All Your Voices by CapriUni
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:21 PM

Raise All Your Voices by CapriUni
(A Winter Solstice Carol)

Come gather together and sing with glad hearts!
Sing for the sun's return out of the dark.
The wheel, it is turning, the dance it goes on.
So raise all your voices, fill the air with sweet song!

Oh, sing with the Goddess: "The world is reborn --
Shining as bright as the very first morn!"
The old year has ended, let go of old wrongs.
And raise all your voices, fill the air with sweet song!

Though winter will bring us cold nights and fierce wind,
Know by this dawning that hardship will end.
And, like the sun's rays, may our hearts all grow strong.
Come! Raise all your voices, fill the air with sweet song!

Give thanks to the Goddess, the sweet living Earth --
Thanks for the cycle of death and rebirth.
She lives in our hearts, and the love that we share,
So raise all your voices, let a song fill the air!

Copyright ©2003 Ann Magill

Subject: Just Because You Like To Do It.....by J. Rasmussen
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:18 PM

Just Because You Like To Do It, That Don't Make It Right by Jerry Rasmussen

Jerry's Comments:  I like to play country blues on guitar, and was fooling around with a fairly familiar chord progression, somewhat like the start of Fishin' Blues, and these words came out. Thomas Dorsey, the Father of Gospel Music recorded as Georgia Tom, doing country blues, before he started writing gospel. This song could have been one of his, in his country blues days, with a gospel message. If anyone wants to reach me, my e-mail address is [e-mail].

God came to Noah, late one day said, "Son, I got a job for you
I'm getting mighty tired of these people 'round here, doing what they want to do
I've told 'em once, I've told 'em twice
They never want to listen to my advice
So build yourself a boat, and get on out of here (spoken.. before it rains.")

CHORUS:
Well, I ain't been to Heaven but I've been told, the streets up there are lined with gold
I ain't been to Hell, but from what I hear, it can get mighty hot down there
So you better mind your manners, watch your "P's" and "Q's"
'Cause you don't know when God's watching youAnd just because you like to do it, that don't make it right

God sent Jonah far across the sea, in the belly of a whale
Sent him on down to Ninevah, and he lived to tell the tale
He told them people, "Better mind your ways,
Or God's gonna put you in an early grave
Just because you like to do it, that don't make it right."

You can read it in the papers and the magazines, this world's about to go to Hell
Kids are shooting drugs, kids are shooting kids, and things too fierce to tell
You can do what you want, say what you say
But you'd better get ready for judgment day
And just becayse you like to do it, that don't make it right

Copyright ©2002 Words and music by Jerry Rasmussen

Subject: In Bethlehem Town by Haruo
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:14 PM

In Bethlem Town by Haruo
(Tune: The Pesky Sarpent (I think this is the "Springfield Mountain" tune of the well-known humorous version, in the DT); Lyrics: ©Leland Bryant Ross, 1997)

Haruo's Comments:  The Feast Day of the Holy Innocents in the Western church calendar (not sure about the Eastern) is celebrated on Dec. 28, honoring the babies and toddlers of Bethlehem whom, according to Matthew's gospel, King Herod slaughtered in an attempt to kill Jesus.  The reference to beaver fur, in v. 4, is an allusion to Jesse Edgar Middleton's English version of the Huron Carol (Estennialon de tsonoue, Jesous Ahatonhia); the Huron text contains no such notion. (Click here for lyrics with midi file on Leland's website)

In Bethlem town the Christ was born.
They laid him down that starlit mor-ee-orn
Amidst the corn, in swaddling gown
Unbleached and worn, with hay his crown.
Too-loo-ree-loo, too-loo-ree-lay,
Too-loo-ree-loo: 'twas Christmas Day.

On hills nearby, poor shepherds graze
Their flocks. The sky explodes in prai-ee-aise,
With angels' lays to God on high:
"Fear not, this day salvation's nigh!
Too-loo-ree-loo, too-loo-ree-lirth,
Good will to you, and peace on earth!"

The shepherds then of one accord
To Bethlem ran to greet the Lor-ee-ord.
They found him sleeping in a trough,
Convolved in cheap, unwhitened cloth.
Too-loo-ree-laid, too-loo-ree-lotched,
They knelt and prayed as Mary watched.

From Persia far, wise Parsees came,
Led by his star, to praise his name-ee-ame.
They brought presents of gold and myrrh
And frankincense--and beaver fur,
Too-loo-ree-lurr, too-loo-ree-lee,
Then went home sur-reptitiously.

King Herod had bequestioned them,
With motive bad, about Bethlem-ee-em.
The crafty sages Herod left
In royal rage, of facts bereft--
Too-loo-ree-lilled, too-loo-ree-lents,
So Herod killed the Innocents.

God said to Joseph and his wife:
To Egypt go, to save your li-ee-ife.
Thine ancient namesake as a slave
To Egypt came your folk to save.
Too-loo-ree-lask, too-loo-ree-lun,
A sim'lar task awaits your son.

Good people all, consider ye,
Whom God hath called to liberty-I-ee--
Consider well the awful cost
The Scriptures tell in children lost;
Too-loo-ree-low, too-loo-ree-laid,
Consider now the ransoms paid.

God's peace to you; now merry be,
For 'tis all true, of verity-I-ee.
The baby born, ye know it well,
That holy morn, hath vanquished Hell,
Too-loo-ree-loss, too-loo-ree-lee,
Upon the cross, and we are free!

Subject: If there's a God by Jerry Rasmussen
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:11 PM

If There's A God by Jerry Rasmussen
(Words and music by Jerry Rasmussen)

Jerry's Comments:  Friday, Nov. 29, 2002:  I just finished this song a couple of days ago, and thought that I'd send it on to you, Aine.  I think that most believers have had a point in their life when they weren't really sure that God existed.  I even had a minister-friend who acknowledged that he's had times in his ministry when he doubted that God really existed.  I think that's easy to understand.  The whole concept of God is so far beyond our grasp that there are times when all of us need to come to Him and ask that He felp us in our unbelief.  That's what this song is about.

If There's a God, why would he, love a sinner like me
After all of the things that I've done? (in my life)
If he knows my heart, why would he ever part
With his only begotten son?

Chorus:
There is a peace beyond understanding
There is a love that you've never known
No matter what your sins, he'll make you whole again
And he will never leave you alone

How can I believe, what I cannot conceive?
Who can I turn to, to show me the way?
God if you're there, and you hear this prayer
Oh Lord, please don't turn me away

(Chorus)

In the dark of night, he is the truth and the light
There is no burden that Jesus won't share
When all hope is gone, and you can't carry on
Just call him, he'll always be there

Subject: Hearts of Glory by The Crazy Bird
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:06 PM

Hearts of Glory by The Crazy Bird

TCB's Comments:  I'm an American expatriate who has been living in Denmark since '68 (no, I didn't dodge the draft <s>), getting by and making little songs like this one.  So here is a song, inspirational, which owes an awful lot to folk tradition in form and images:

I dreamt a dream of ancient times
when hearts were filled with glory
And everyone was living in
sweet simplicity

I pray it's not a fable,
I pray that the day will come:

When to live like this, in Eden's bliss,
will be reality.

I dreamt I saw an open door
within every human heart,
And I saw the bonds that keep us close
although we are apart.

I pray it's not a fable,
I pray that the day will come:

When the love that lives for everyone
shines thru -- bright morning star!

I dreamt I heard tin silver bells
proudly peeling and ringing,
And the songs I heard without any words
were only angels singing.

I pray it's not a fable,
I pray that the day will come:

When every girl and boy will know
the joy that lives in everything.

© Chuck Cliff 

Subject: Harmony (One Out of Many) by Genie
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 07:02 PM

Harmony (One Out Of Many) by Genie
(words & music by R. Jeanene Pratt © 1988; 1990*; Jeanene Pratt (Genie): guitar, lead vocal, harmonies)

Many instruments and melodies,
Many voices form a symphony:
One Out Of Many: Let the music be
Sung not in unison, but harmony.
Many textures in one tapestry,
Ev'ry thread with its own specialty:
One Out Of Many. Let the fabric be
Woven with loving hands in harmony.

Chorus:
So let us all sing out and let it be
Sung, not in unison, but harmony.
Harmony, let it be
Sung, not in unison, but harmony.

Many colors, each with its own name,
In one rainbow burst as if in flame;
One Out Of Many. Let the colors be
Rich in their character and harmony.
Many creatures, marvelous to see,
Share with us the earth and sky and sea:
One Out Of Many. Let all nature be
Rich in diversity and harmony.

Chorus

Many roots must feed one growing tree,
Unity, not uniformity:
One Out Of Many. Let the branches be
balanced to bend and dance in harmony.
One true light from vantages diverse;
One community is all this earth:
One Out Of Many. Let the music be
Sung, not in unison, but harmony.

Last Chorus:
So let us all sing out and let it be
Sung, not in unison, but harmony.
Harmony, let it be
Sung, not in unison, but harmony.
Harmony, let it be
Sung, not in unison, but as a symphony.

©1988 R. Jeanene Pratt, Portland, OR ([e-mail])

*The song was written for a Unitarian-Universalist summer camp in 1988 (theme: "Harmony"), without a chorus or verse #4. I added the chorus in 1990 to make it a better group sing-along song, and also added verse #4 that year. The version on this CD is the original five verses sans chorus, recorded in 1988. And here is how the chords go.

Harmony (One Out Of Many)
R. Jeanene Pratt © 1988, 1990

Ma(C)ny in(G)struments and melo(C)dies,
Ma(C)ny vo(Am)ices form(D7) a sympho(G)ny:
One(F) Out Of Ma(C)ny. Let(F) the music(G) be
Sung(C) not(F) in un(C)ison(Am), but har(G)mony(C).
...
(Chorus)
So let us all(G) sing out and let(C) it(F) be(C)
Sung(C), not(F) in un(C)ison(Am), but har(G)mony(C)
Har(G)mony(G7), let(C) it(F) be(C)
Sung(C), not(F) in un(C)ison(Am), but har(G)mony(C).
...
Sung(C), not(F) in un(C)ison, but as(G) a sym(G7)pho(C)ny!

Subject: Flesh of my Flesh by khandu
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 06:58 PM

Flesh Of My Flesh by khandu

In the Garden, God's perfect creation stood
And God looked at Adam, and said "It is good."
Then God said, "It's not good for man to be alone."
"I'll create woman, flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone."

I thank God for hearing the tears that I cried,
When I was a young man, and there was no one at my side.
He sent His Son, Jesus, who had died to make me free.
Then He sent me a woman, that He had made just for me.

This gift of eternal Life from the Living God that I serve,
And the gift of my lovely wife is more than I deserve.
I sing her this love song straight from my heart.
What God's joined together, there is no one who can tear it apart

With Jesus within me, I am never alone.
But He also has given me flesh of my flesh
And bone of my bone...

And here is a Love song from Christ to his bride
Who was cleansed by the water and the blood that flowed from his side.
And the voice of the Bridegroom is now being heard,
"Come in to your fullness, Spirit of my Spirit and Word of my Word."

Copyright ©1995 khandu

Subject: Down to the River by Kim C
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 06:55 PM

Down to the River by Kim C

I went down to the river for to ease my worried mind
Not knowing what I'd come across, not knowing what I'd find
I went down to the river to ease my troubled soul
And I heard the voice of Jesus and these are the words he spoke

He said, Child, don't you remember me, I've walked with you for years
And I've tried to help you ease your pain and conquer all your fears
But I still don't think you trust me just the way you know you can
You ought to know it's true, I've got the whole world in my hands

Trust me, child, trust me
My timing's never wrong
Just when you think I'm running late
I always come along
For I am the Son that shines into the darkness of your soul
Let me wash you in the river of my blood and make you whole

I said Lord, I have not forgotten you but I've been so afraid
I've been praying day and night and nothing seems to change
He said I am like the river, sometimes I move real slow
But in the end I always get to where I need to go

So I stepped into the river, and the river turned to blood
And I cried and prayed and washed myself in its crimson flood
I knew right then within my heart that I was on my way
Because I had the strength to live to fight another day

Trust me, child, trust me
My timing's never wrong
Just when you think I'm running late
I always come along
For I am the Son that shines into the darkness of your soul
Let me wash you in the river of my blood and make you whole

© 2000 Kim Feathers Caudell

Subject: Cool Cup of Water by khandu
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 06:50 PM

Cool Cup Of Water by khandu

Just a cool cup of water
To soothe my weary soul
Grace and a little Mercy
And a cool cup of water before I go.

Oh Mama, don't you weep, and don't you worry, son
Trust in the Lord my soul to keep
The day is nearly over, and there's so much to be done
And miles that I must go before I sleep
And miles and miles to go before I sleep.

A cool cup of water to soothe my weary soul,
Grace and a little Mercy,
And a cool cup of water before I go

Sometimes this road gets rocky,
Sometimes the travelin's hard
Sometimes it seems like more than I can stand
But I'll trust in the Master and the way He deals the cards,
I know He's got my whole world in His hands
It's true He has the whole world in His hands.

Copyright ©2002 by khandu

Subject: Bring Down The Walls by Amos
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 06:46 PM

Bring Down The Walls by Amos

It's not only you,
Who knows how the wind blows
Not only they who know just how the world must be.
It's not only she who
Is looking for answers,
Not only them, not only you, not only me...

Chorus:
Bring down the walls
And bring in the river
Bring down the lonesome, frozen clay,
And bring in the light.
Bring down the walls,
Throw open the windows,
And if we just hold on,
We just might find a place
Where just living is right

The justice has called,
And canceled the weddings.
The jester has answered all the phones,
Before they could ring.
The mothers in town
Have nailed  down all the windows
And the merchants barred their doors, to go home and sing....
 
 (Chorus)
Bring down the walls
And bring in the river
Bring down the lonesome, frozen clay,
And bring in the light.
Bring down the walls,
Throw open the windows,
And if we just hold on,
We just might find a place
Where just living is right

Bridge:
Just living is not an easy answer;
Not simple,  and not always kind;
Just living cannot guarantee you
Comfort to an overcrowded mind...

It's not only you,
Who knows how the wind blows
Not only they who know just how the world must be.
It's not only she who
Is looking for answers,
Not only them, not only you, not only me...

Final Chorus:
Bring down the walls
And bring in the river
Bring down the lonesome, frozen clay,
And bring in the sun.
Bring down the walls,
Throw open the windows,
And if we just hold on,
We just might find,
A place where just living is done

Copyright 2000, by Amos H. Jessup

Subject: Bright Red Rose by The Crazy Bird
From: bradfordian
Date: 29 Sep 16 - 06:36 PM

Bright Red Rose by The Crazy Bird

TCB's Comments:  One afternoon I was looking out the window and saw my little Sandra Rose standing there. She was about five years old then and had been playing hard all day. When she was young, it was almost impossible to get her to stand still long enough to comb her hair and often her hair would stick out behind her back so she looked like a secretary bird. Anyway, she caught my eye for a moment, the picture stuck in my mind and, years later, the lines: "There's an angel outside my window, standing there picking her nose, her hair's a mess and so are the rest of her clothes..." came into my mind -- that's how this song got started -- it tries to communicate something small children can teach us. -- Regards, Chuck Cliff

There's angel outside my window,
she hands me a bright-red rose!
She smiles at me so sweetly, then
she began to sing me a song:

She sang me a song,
an unending song,
a song that goes on and on...
It's kind of confusing,
but the words and the music,
the words and the rhythm are one...
As soon as you listen,
something that's hidden,
shines forth like the bright morning sun!!!

There is a song we all sing -- you know!
The melody's in everything -- that grows!
that grows -- you know...

There's angel outside my window,
she hands me a bright-red rose!
She smiles at me so sweetly, then
she started to fiddle with my heart:

Open your heart,
it won't tear you apart,
although at the start it may scare you...
Under the tree
a deep mystery
may suddenly be revealed you!
Take that first step
then follow your breath,
there's one thing left I can tell you:

Life is the song we all sing -- that's true!
The melody's in everything -- we do!
we do -- that's true...

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: GUEST,wysiwyg sanscookie
Date: 15 Jun 16 - 11:58 AM

Corrected verse, Schmielzo Polka:

We promise we won't laugh at you
Come do the Schmielzo Polka.
Now it's the only thing to do—
To dance the Schmielzo Polka.
Just look at all the rest of us,
We'd win no prizes either!
So have no fear, the time has come,
To join the Schmielzo Polka.

Thank you wysiwyg. The song has now been updated with this correction. bradfordian

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: GUEST,Juan Garcia - Trimaris
Date: 12 Apr 12 - 01:32 AM

I first heard the song "Alba By Troll" when I was a boy during the reigh of Arlof and Hilary. The part "shun ye the highlands" has stuck in my head since that day and I write to you with tears of joy as I have just now discovered the name and writer of that song here on this website.

Please, is there a recording of it anywhere so that I may relive this song of my youth?

Sincerely,

Juan Garcia
[e-mail]

---

Hi, Juan - since I'm about the same age as the songwriter and you have this song as a memory of your youth, you make me feel very old. The songwriter is a member of the 24th Street Klezmer Band in Gainesville. You might want to e-mail the bookings address at the Website and see if they can lead you to a recording.
-Joe Offer, Mudcat Archivist (e-mail sent)-

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:51 AM

Songs of Inspiration and Celebration

Bright Red Rose by The Crazy Bird
Bring Down the Walls by Amos
Cool Cup Of Water by khandu
Down to the River by Kim C
Flesh Of My Flesh by khandu
Harmony (One Out Of Many) by Genie
Hearts of Glory by The Crazy Bird
If There's A God by Jerry Rasmussen
In Bethlem Town by Haruo
Just Because You Like To Do It, That Don't Make It Right by Jerry Rasmussen
Raise All Your Voices by CapriUni
Raise Your Voices In The Song by Genie
Shelter From The Rain by reggie miles
Shepherd Of My Soul by khandu
Singin' With The Big Choir by Genie
Wasn't That A Mighty Storm? by Jerry Rasmussen

---

THESE links don't work.Please see main contents section for working links. bradfordian

Subject: SB: Youth Is Wasted On The Young by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:49 AM

Youth Is Wasted On The Young by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  Posted this song in the 'Why I Hate Folk Music Thread'.   But I thought it might be an idea to start a new thread for the posting of songs on this subject.


If the truth be told,
Experience is wasted on the old
And youth is wasted on the young

When you have your youth
You have no finer weapon than the truth
And you wield it like a sword
When youth is gone
You need all your strengh just to go on
And the truth now cuts you to the bone

If the truth be told,
Experience is wasted on the old
And youth is wasted on the young

Which one is right
The one certain, keen and ready for the fight?
Or the one, unsure, who knows the price to pay
Who are the fools
The ones who want to change all the rules?
Or the ones, who have changed them once before?

If the truth be told,
Experience is wasted on the old
And youth is wasted on the young


Roger Gall 1997

Subject: SB: Young Love Old Love by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:48 AM

Young Love Old Love by The Shambles

Young love, a desperate duet to be sung
Those eyes, burn like fire, shine like the sun
The beam shines only on what it desires
Leaving dark the forgotten ones

Old love, forgets the words but not the tune
Light travelled to and reflected from the moon
The warm glow falls everywhere
On all, who need to be loved

Roger Gall 1997. 

Subject: SB:You Wouldn't Know It To Look At Me (Barry Finn)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:47 AM

You Wouldn't Know It To Look At Me by Barry Finn
Tune:  Australian, Trad. "One Of The Has Beens")

"You're not listening to me are you deaf in both ears.
Don't you see what you've caused, have you been blind all these years.
Could you just give an answer, so I know you're not dumb.
For Christ's sake, you bird brain has a cat got your tongue"?

Chorus:
I'm as cute as any other kid,
I can run, jump & shout.
You wouldn't know it to look at me,
At times I can't work things out.
I'm not stupid, I'm not lazy, I try very hard.
With a little compassion I could go pretty far.

Well, school is a torture, the teasing won't quit.
My thoughts go off track and my aide has a fit.
There are some things I excel in, so much that I'm bored,
You wouldn't know it to look at me, it takes all that I'm worth.

The kids scorn & laugh at me, I don't have a friend.
You can feel my heart break, I wonder when this will end.
The mistreatment & abuse I take, it's really a crime,
But I'm told to ignore it, though it happens all of the time.
Chorus:
I know it's hard on my family, I can't change a thing.
The aunts & uncles blame it on my folks & say it's poor upbringing.
The love & affection others get all the time,
I only hear people yell at me, when I ask where is mine.

I never feel comfort, no shoulder, no hug.
A system to support me, was pulled out like a rug.
If you can't understand this, you may be worse off than me
But I won't hold it against you cause you're deaf & can't see.
Chorus:
I may be mildly autistic or just plain O.C.D.
I may twitch with Tourette's, or have A.D.D.
If you see me cross my eyes, instead of my T's
You wouldn't know it to look at me that I have special needs.
Chorus:

Copyright Barry Finn 1998

Subject: SB: You May Think I'm Lost by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:45 AM

You May Think I'm Lost by Amos

There's a small puppy sleeping,
Under a chair
Your poor human owners don't know you are there.
They are calling and looking,
Up streets and down wells,
But you're sleeping too soundly to answer their yells!

Chorus:
"Oh you may think I'm lost, but that isn't the case!
You think I have vanished 'cause you can't see my face!
Oh you silly old humans! You may stop all your screaming!
You may think I'm lost, but I'm dreaming!!"

There's a small child asleep
In an old apple tree
Her parents are calling her name anxiously
She is visiting planets,
And dancing with light,
But her parents are having a terrible fright!

Chorus:
"Oh you may think I'm lost, but that isn't the case
Do you think I have vanished 'cause you can't see my face?
Oh you silly old grownups! You may stop all your screaming!
You may think I'm lost, but I'm dreaming!!"

There's a young woman's father
She sees when she can
In a home where they still
Dress him up like a man,
When he drools and he whispers
And can't use his hands
She just raises her voice to make him understand.

Chorus:
"Oh you may think I'm lost, but that isn't the case!
Just 'cuz I stopped yapping through the hole in my face!
Oh you silly young woman! You may stop all your screaming!
You may think I'm lost, but I'm dreaming!!"

There's a fool on the street
Who offends passers-by
They flinch from his old clothes
And his wild rolling eyes
And the Pastor walks past him,
A-shaking his head
At a lost soul he thinks he must give up for dead!

Chorus:
"Oh you may think I'm lost, but that isn't the case!
You think I have vanished 'cause I won't run your race.
Oh you silly old cleric, with your pastoral scheming!
You may think I'm lost, but I'm dreaming!!"

Copyright © 2001, Amos Jessup

Subject: SB: You Can Be A Street Musician! by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:41 AM

You Can Be A Street Musician! by reggie miles

reggie's Comments:  Here's a satirical little dittie that plays off of some of the common misconceptions about street musicians and their art form. It came to mind after some recent discussions I've been having about the subject at the Mudcat and elsewhere.


You can be a street musician!
It doesn't take a lot of ambition.
It don't take talent or education.
And it beats workin' at a fillin' station.

(Or for some theivin', lyin' corporation like Enron, or, I could go on, but what's the use.)

So come on down and don't be shy.
Sing songs to folks as they walk by.
Strum and rant and stomp your feet,
Express yourself out on the street.

(It's called freedom of expression. It's not guaranteed via the ever- increasing constant tuition as some would have you believe. It is promised to every American by the first amendment of the Constitution.)

You can sing requests all day long.
It don't matter if the words are wrong.
Pour your heart out or just play covers.
Sing the blues about your lost lovers.

(Oh where oh where has my little love gone?)

If you want, you can get political,
Just as long as you're not too critical.
Sing silly songs to make folks laugh.
Don't have to cut your hair or take a bath.

[Sniff, sniff] (Smells like somethin' died. I hope it's not my song.)

You can arise from bed at the crack of noon.
Spend an hour or so just to get in tune.
Swallow a steamin' black pot o' jo,
To get yourself up before the show.

(No, I would not like cream or sugar with that. On second thought, better make mine a root-beer float.)

Then look around for a likely location,
To begin your musical vocation.
At an outdoor market or a subway station,
Or where ever folks need edification.

(Right here looks like a good spot.)

Divorce yourself from the ol' rat race,
And open up your guitar case.
You're sure to find somebody who,
Will be happy to donate a buck or two.

(A quarter, a dime or a nickel 'll do. How about a penny?)

You can make a million dollars a year,
If you start out with two million's what I hear.
It's easy to do, take it from me,
It's more fun than playin' the lottery.

(And all the money goes to the sick, the tired and the hungry, and you're lookin' at 'im. I am sick and tired of bein' hungry.)

You can be your own boss and employee too,
With nobody to tell you what to do.
Record and sell your own CD,
Start your own recording company.

(I think I'll call it "Starvin' For Your Attention Productions".)

So if you're lookin' for a brand new job,
And you don't want to beg or steal or rob,
Take my advice, here's what to do,
Become a street musician too!

(But it'll cost ya. I hear their thinkin' of raisin' the street musician permit fee from $15 to $50. Looks like I gotta git a job just to support my street music performances.)

But if you worry about making money,
Better find yourself a rich little honey.
Then you can just sit around and play,
Your guitar all the live long day.

(Huh? What's that honey? You want me to get a what?! How about I become a street musician? Yep, that's what I thought you'd say. How dare she use them four letter words around me, like w-o-r-k and a j-o-b!)

Joe street performer

P.S., You can lose a lot of weight too.

You can be weight watchers and watch me lose,
Hundreds of pounds while singin' the blues

Subject: SB: e Brave Troubadour by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:38 AM

Ye Brave Troubadour by Mbo

In the golden days of yore 
In a simple time that is no more 
There was a lively troubadour 
Who loved to turn a tune 

He lived for many kinds of song 
From galliards to ballads long 
And never known to play a note wrong 
Under the sun or under the moon 

He was the knight's and guard's delight 
They all rejoiced at just one sight 
In the dark there burned a light 
Of intellect and wit 

A large, round, tawny lute he played 
A great one he himself had made 
With fancy-crafted wood inlayed 
And for it, many works were writ 

At the castle, at the fort 
He even graced the King's own court 
With songs and dances of every sort 
Never would he quit 

And when the King went off to war 
With soldiers, knights, squires, and more 
They took the lively troubadour 
With them on their way 

On a horse's back he spent 
Playing marches as they went 
And at night, in his tent 
The soldiers came to hear him play 

And when a heavy fight ensued 
To his lute he stayed glued 
With his tunes he set the mood 
Above the battle's roar 

But alas! An arrow stray 
Pierced him in an awful way 
Prostrate on the ground he lay 
The lively singer was no more 

The noble soldiers, with honor due 
Erected there, a statue to 
The courageous little lutenist who 
Had died in glory, brave and true. 

Matthew Richards

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:37 AM

This is another one of those place-holder-thingy messages, posted to make recovery easier if I make a mistake. Gee, I just finished "W," which would make one thing I'm almost done. Trouble is, there are other sections.....


Oh, well, onward and upward. I'm trying to finish "z" today, and go on to another section another day....

Subject: SB: Would You Like To Dance? by jeffp
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:34 AM

Would You Like To Dance? by jeffp (submitted on Valentine's Day 2000)

jeffp's Comments:  Here's my first song, written for my wife for Valentine's Day.


CHORUS:
Would you like to dance, make some sweet romance 
Would you take a chance with me? 
We'll spin around the floor once or twice or more. 
I love you can't you see? 
Dance with me.

When I first met you many years ago, 
who could tell what would transpire? 
Neither you nor I knew as time went by 
you would set my heart on fire?

CHORUS

We went our separate ways, while the music played
Some sad and happy tunes.
Before the dance was through I came back to you
And we kissed beneath the moon.

CHORUS

Now if you'll just step into my arms
We'll waltz all around this hall.
Then no matter what the future brings
I'll be there each time you call.

CHORUS

by Jeff Porterfield

Subject: SB: Without The Song (There's No Show) - Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:33 AM

Without The Song (There's No Show) by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  I always feel better after I sing this one but I do have to carefully explain to the audience that it is about a particular place and time and is not about them. Otherwise they are usually gone before the end of the song. It was a place where songwriters could go and perform to an audience that consisted of other songwriters. The idea was that they, of all people would provide a sympathetic audience for original material. It was a disaster of course as they were too busy either preparing to perform or flushed with success after they had performed, to actually listen to anybody else and just went through the motions, clapping dutyfully at the end of songs.


I saw no storm clouds appear
Is that the sound of thunder I hear?
Or the sound of warm applause?
No, it's just the roars
Of clashing egos and crashing bores

You know you're the best
So why not listen to the rest?
Don't sharpen your claws
Don't join the roars
Of clashing egos and crashing bores

Small fishes, small ponds
They wait for you to go on
They even call out for more
Then join the roars
Of clashing egos and crashing bores

The singers come and go
But without the song, there's no show
How can you sell, what's not yours?
Don't join the roars
Of clashing egos and crashing bores

The bottle may be shattered
But it's the message that matters
So if it washes on your shore
Don't join the roars
Of clashing egos and crashing bores

Roger Gall 1997 

Subject: SB: The Wilderness Trail by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:31 AM

The Wilderness Trail by Amos
(Tune:  With God On Our Side - click here to play)

Come ye people of conscience,
Of awareness and Mind.
And please heed a warning,
Nor take it unkind
For your mind it will tumble,
And your spirit may fail,
If you walk unprepared on
The Wilderness Trail

Past the ranges of language
And the songs of the heart,
Where beliefs all are ending,
And something else starts
You may feel like a prisoner,
Released from his jail
When you first turn your mind to
The Wilderness Trail

Leave your fine mathematics,
Leave your poetry, too;
Walk away from the notions
You've presented as You;
Banish all preconceptions,
And your mind starts to pale;
When it sees your are bound for
The Wilderness Trail.

Turn away from the icons,
You have held for too long;
Cast off every image
Used to make others Wrong;
Bid farewell to fond formulas
You have run out of bail;
And your time is beginning
On the Wilderness Trail.

I was born in the suburbs,
Where the grasses are tame;
Raised into a fortune,
Brought up under a name.
I was promised fine schooling,
At Harvard and Yale
But I turned my face elsewhere--
To the Wilderness Trail.

Now the men that you find there
Are not of your kind;
For the space-winds have burned them,
And their faces are lined
But they see through your pity
And your heart's tongue may wail
You may curse your beginning
Down the Wilderness Trail

I have crossed every pitfall,
Scaled the windfalls of time;
Crossed the Ethical Mountains,
And left them behind;
I have vanquished the Maiden
And her cold bed of nails;
But there's country beyond her,
On the Wilderness Trail.

The trailhead is near you,
Not more than a day;
But as you love your comfort.
Turn away, turn away!
Let your heart keep its Answers;
Let your eyes keep their scales.
For there's nothing but Change
On the Wilderness Trail.

Subject: SB: The Wild Rover (reformed) by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:28 AM

The Wild Rover (reformed) by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  With love and affection to and for all parties.

I've been a 'Wild Rover', now I've seen the light
I won't be 'Leaving Liverpool' every night
I've packed up my songbook, and you'll understand
I'll not tie it up with a 'Black Velvet Band'

If they call out for a 'Jug Of Punch'
Tell them politely that I'm out to lunch
I'll leave Captain Farrell alone in the bar
From now on the 'Whiskey' can stay 'In The Jar'

My fingers were only for holding my beer
But now I know better, they fit in your ear
Now its worthy tradition and a very hard slog
Where once it was only 'All For Me Grog'

I'll not 'Tell me Ma' when I get home
I'll not be in 'Dublin's Fair City' alone
No more will a week be 'Seven Drunken Nights'
But long songs about tokens till they turn out the lights

You may have thought things couldn't get worse
But I've nearly remembered the 31st verse
When I can remember the full 93
There's nothing on earth that is stopping me

Its hard to be saying, goodbye old guitar
When I've been for so long, 'County Down's Star'
I will no longer, make those 'Fiddler's Green'
By slipping, now and then, a song in between

The session's loss is the sing-around's gain
For I never will play the 'Wild Rover' again
I may be missed when I'm no longer around
Don't look for me to get your 'Lobby Washed Down'

You won't find me staying on that 'Holy Ground'
But awaiting my turn, at the next sing a round
I know that this news will fill you with joy
I may still bring along my old pal 'Danny Boy'

And its, no nay never, no nay never no more
Will I play the Wild Rover
No never no more – Until the next time.

Subject: SB: Wild and Free by mousethief
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:25 AM

Wild and Free by mousethief

mousethief's Comments:  Here's one I wrote when I was about 17 years old, more or less.

While sleeping on a summer night
Beneath a broad oak tree
I woke to find a unicorn
Running wild and free
Running wild and free
(repeat this phrase after each verse)

I held my breath and turned to watch
The show he gave for me
Dancing gracefully beneath the stars
And running wild and free 

And when at last his dance was done
He shyly came to me
And bid me climb upon his back,
Go running wild and free 

And so we ran beneath the moon
The unicorn and me
So clean and pure that summer night
We were running wild and free 

I often think back to that night
And what it meant to me
How dull men's lives are when compared
To running wild and free! 

(C) 1979 Alex E. Riggle. All Rights Reserved

Subject: SB: Why Barky's Not At Work Today by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:24 AM

Why Barky's Not At Work Today by Mbo

Oh dear Infamous Amos, how could you be so mean? 
By sitting here a-writing songs on your computer screen? 
While Barky-lass is out now at the setting of the sun 
And fixing computers or Saturday night instead of having fun?

Oh the hard life of a teenager--it never ends, I fear 
I'm still feeling it myself, though older by 6 year 
Yer parents make you work all night when you wish to play

**accidentally drops pick in guitar** Dang, come on you little blighter! **Shakes the guitar violently upside-down until pick skitters out** Ahh.. now where was I?

And when you do they chew you out, in a most annoying way 
While secretly you're not listening to a single word they say!

And worst of all, and most of all, they always get upset 
When you're supposed to work and instead you surf the net! 
And especially the Mudcat, with all it's grace & charms 
Will draw you like a magnet into it's awaiting arms!

So parents all around the world, take this word from me 
Berate not your poor children, for I'd much rather see 
Us kids all surfing Mudcat, writing songs and more 
Because the work we have to do is really quite a bore!

Matthew Richards (2000) 

Subject: SB: Whitby Fisherman by bill\sables
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:22 AM

Whitby Fisherman by bill\sables

bill's Comments:  When I was spending an evening with Sandy and Caroline Paton in August 1999 they sang an American Hymn called "Blessed Quietness".  I liked the tune and the chorus prompted a thought about the "coble" fishermen of Yorkshire, Durham and Northumberland in the North East of England, so I strung a few words together and this is what came up.  I have used the same tune and chorus of the origional Hymn. Whitby is a fishing town on the Yorkshire coast famous for being the starting point of Captain Cook when he discovered Australia, and the annual Whitby Folk Festival Week held every August.


I'm a fisherman from Whitby, keep my boat down on the shore
And I fish the banks for herring as my father did before
When we leave the land at sunset for to plough the northern sea
It's the peace of moonlit waters that brings thoughts of home to me

Blessed quietness, Holy quietness,
What assurance in my soul
On the stormy sea speaking peace to me
How the billows cease to roll

When I'm standing in the wheelhouse in the subdued compass glow
I can find a peace unequalled, while the crew's asleep below
And the stars are there to guide me and to help me through the night
Mingling with the lights of comrades sailing for the morning light

When we shoot our nets at daybreak praying for a bumper haul
Then the sun shows in the heavens spreading brightness over all
And the seagulls wheel above us as we turn the boat around
'Cos the nets are full of silver and tonight we're Whitby bound

We'll unload our catch in the harbour and make sure all is tied down
Then it's home, a bath, then supper and a stroll down into town
We will pass around the bottle in a pub down on the quay
And we'll praise the Lords protection and His gift of Peaceful seas

Bill Sables

Subject: SB: Whitby Coming Home by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:21 AM

Whitby Coming Home by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath of Harlow's Comments:  Here's a song I made up at Whitby for folk week.  I sang it before the week was out.  The tune that set itself to it is a bit reminiscent of a hymn tune used for O Jesus Christ Remember in Catholic srvices, and the Churches One Foundation, I believe, in the CofE.  That struck me the other day as I was driving along and checking that I remembered the words.  But other people might not see the similarity.  Not that it matters.  If anyone feels like singing it and has a tune they like better, feel free.  I've put in a RealAudio song file to give an idea of the tune. (In fact I sing it using G chords capoed up so it's in the key of A.)


Perhaps the seagulls woke me, but I could not sleep that night
So I walked down to the harbour, to see the harbour lights,
And the harbour lights were shining, and the night was calm and clear -
But I'll tell you one more reason I'll be coming back next year
To Whitby in the summer, together or alone,
To Whitby, where it's always coming home.

And rising in the morning, I climbed two hundred stairs
To sing there in St Mary's, and to listen to the prayers,
With the bells so sweetly ringing, and the seagulls wheeling by,
And high above the harbour we were singing in the sky
In Whitby in the summer, together or alone,
In Whitby, where it's always coming home.

With the singing and the dancing, and the music in the streets,
And the welcome always shining in the faces that you meet,
Why, Whitby in the summer is like moving through a dream,
But there's something there in Whitby that is deeper than it seems.
In Whitby in the summer, together or alone,
In Whitby, where it's always coming home.

And in the Seaman's Mission, as I sat and drank my tea
The sailormen up on the walls were looking down at me
And standing in the evening so high above the shore
I seemed to see those little ships go sailing out once more
Go sailing out from Whitby, together and alone
Knowing some of them would never make it home.

And all through the streets of Whitby you can hear the seagulls cry
Don't they say they are the spirits of lost sailors long gone by?
So when we sing the old songs, it is more than just a game,
We wake the memory of the past, and welcome them back home
To Whitby in the summer, together or alone,
To Whitby, where it's always coming home.

©Kevin McGrath, August 19th 2002

Subject: SB: Whistlebinkie by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:18 AM

Whistlebinkie by Mbo
(Click here for tune)


Well I've rambled nearly all my life 
And all across this land 
With nothing but the clothes upon my back 
And my whistle in my hand 
I play my whistle from town to town 
To earn my daily bread 
And if some folks like the way I play 
Tonight I'll sleep in a bed 

Chorus: 
Oh I stepped and danced so merry and light 
Much to the ladies' grand delight 
And I played my whistle so cheerfully 
That all the folks danced along with me 
Ah! The life of a whistlebinkie! 

I've played at parties in Inverness 
In pubs in Kingussie 
They've offered my positions there 
But I've got to be free 
Itinerant, wand'ring musicians, we 
Make music in the street 
Our playing draws folks from miles around 
To hear our tunes so sweet 

I've whistled at many a wedding feast 
I deem they are the best 
Everyone's so kind to you 
The treat you like a guest! 
Well, there's food and drink and cake 
And prayers for the happy couple--and more: 
I get to lead each bridesmaid out 
In a dance across the floor 

So don't you dare insult us 
Or try to put us down 
Whistlebinkies were there on your first birthday 
We'll be there when they put you in the ground 
Oh, traveling whistlebinkies 
We rove from here to there 
As long as we've got our whistles & tunes 
We're welcome everywhere!

Subject: SM: Where the Lilies Used to Spring (Gray/Mbo)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:17 AM

WHERE THE LILIES USED TO SPRING
Poem by David Gray, melody by Mbo

When the place was green with the shaky grass
And the windy trees were high
When the leaflets told each other tales
And the stars were in the sky
When the silent crows hid their ebon beaks
Beneath their ruffled wing—
Then the fairies watered the glancing spot
Where the lilies used to spring!

When the sun is high in the summer sky
And the lake is deep with clouds
When gadflies bite the prancing kine
And light the lark enshrouds—
Then the butterfly, like a feather dropped
From the tip of an angel's wing
Floats wavering on to the glancing spot
Where the lilies used to spring!

When the wheat is shorn and the burns run brown
And the moon shines clear at night
When wains are heaped with rustling corn
And swallows take their flight
When the trees begin to cast their leaves
And the birds, new-feathered, sing—
Then comes the bee to the glancing spot
Where the lilies used to spring!

When the sky is grey and the trees are bare
And the grass is long and brown
And black moss clothes the soft damp thatch
And the rain comes weary down
And countless droplets on the pond
Their widening orbits ring—
Then bleak and cold is the silent spot
Where the lilies used to spring!

--Mbo

---

Click to play

Subject: SB: What Did I Do? by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:11 AM

What Did I Do? by Mbo
(Words & Music by Matthew Richards)


Mbo's Comments:  Here's another one o' my songs for the Mudcat Songbook. This one is completely written by me(!). This is going to be heard on Mudcat Radio one of these days--I just need to get around to recording it. It's HUGELY influenced by The Electric Light Orchestra and The Beatles, but it still has a very folksy sound--almost like skiffle.

Hey girl, where did you come from?
Just one sight of you nearly struck me dumb
You appeared like the brightest star in my sky
You came to me, and I still don't know why

Prechorus:
How did you know
I was alone?
How did you hear
My falling tears?
You're so very smart
You knew what was in my heart

Chorus:
What did I do to deserve a girl like you?
You take away the clouds and rain, and make my whole sky blue
What did I do to deserve a girl like you?
You take away the clouds and rain, and make my whole sky blue

Hey girl, how do you know me?
My name from your lips came so easily
I'll never understand it, but I realized just then
My life would never be the same again

Prechorus

Chorus

Hey girl, please tell me quick
What made you choose me when you could have had your pick
Of all the million guys that are better by a longshot?
But in any case, I'm glad it's me you got

Prechorus

Chorus

Hey girl, listen to what I say
I'm gonna tell you just how much I love you every day
All of your sweet dreams, I will try to fulfill
To stay right by your side for life. That I will!

Prechorus

Chorus

Chorus

Matthew Richards (1999)

Subject: SB: We're Alright Jack by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:08 AM

We're Alright Jack by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  The thinking behind the song is fairly simple.  It could be expressed as 'put up or shut up'.  I can understand why an individual would not wish to get actively involved in a cause or campaign.  The choice is theirs.  There is only so much time and one would soon be worn out if you were not selective in where you placed your limited energy.  What I don't understand is why some people, who maybe generally in favour of the overall objective and who recognise the scale of the problem, are motivated to spend their time and energy to publicly place some nit-picking criticism of the methods that are being used by those who are actively involved.  Doing this without making any positive alternative suggestions or accepting that others may not have the luxury of choosing if they wish to be actively involved.  The original criticisms are usually justified by a claim that the methods used are counter-productive and/or risk making the situation worse.  Not recognising that for a victim, things could not get much worse or that expressing these negative criticisms is the most counter-productive action and risks diverting attention away from the real problem.  I possibly do understand why this is done, I do not however understand why this is considered to be a respectable position?  Or why when such negative views are expressed, these are then followed with 'sheep-like' agreement from others?  Or are expressed, because it is felt to be expressing a collective, if undemonstrated view or feeling?  No one is above criticism or above making mistakes but are there not better ways of dealing with this, ones that do not risk confusing the issue or diluting the strength of the message?  This song reflects my personal experiences with the Public Entertainment Licensing issue, over the past 2 years, but can be applied to many wider issues.  An obvious example is the present situation with Iraq.

We're alright Jack, so don't bother us
It may affect us too, if you go kicking up a fuss
I can see you are wounded
Not in the best of health
But we all agree, you must have brought it on yourself

Am I not entitled, just like all of you
To speak from what I see, my personal point of view?
I'll question those who try to get the problem solved
And criticise those who would get me involved

We're alright Jack, so don't bother us
It may affect us too, if you go kicking up a fuss
I can see you are wounded
Not in the best of health
But we all agree, you must have brought it on yourself

These fears of mugging are simply overblown
Didn't get mugged, when I went out alone
Ignore the statistics, ignore the traumatised
In my opinion, its over dramatised

We're alright Jack, so don't bother us
It may affect us too, if you go kicking up a fuss
I can see you are wounded
Not in the best of health
But we all agree, you must have brought it on yourself

The victims of this crime may not think I am right
Many now, if able, would not go out at night
My support may give some consolation
I'll leave them in their lonely isolation

We're alright Jack, so don't bother us
It may affect us too, if you go kicking up a fuss
I can see you are wounded
Not in the best of health
But we all agree, you must have brought it on yourself


©Roger Gall – September 2002

Subject: SB: We Will Meet Again by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:07 AM

We Will Meet Again by Amergin

My soul is in the heavens
My body's on the ground
The stars are all calling
Me as I look around
My journey is beginning
To where I do not know
To where I do not know

It's 3 in the morning
When you answer the call
You're eyes turn moistly red
The tears stream down your face
I want to hug and tell you
Please don't weep for me
Please don't weep for me

My sickness is now over
The pain is now all gone
Yet your body is shaking
With the tears in your eyes
Feed on to our memories
Until we meet again
We will meet again

Subject: SB: We Need More Administrators by BSeed
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:06 AM

We Need More Administrators by BSeed (Charles Kratz)


BSeed's Comments:  The labor movement. In 1975, the teachers in the Berkeley Unified School District (California) struck when the district threatened to cut salaries, at a time when the district was paying 50K a year in fines because we had too many school administrators. The strike began on the first day of classes in September, and lasted for 21 days before we went into arbitration; we won the arbitration battle but lost the war--at the end of the year the district laid off about 10% of the teachers.  During the strike I escaped the tedium of the picket line as a member of a group called the Board Erasers. We went from school to school riding in the back of a yellow Mazda pickup truck to lead the strikers in singing strike songs. Members of the group and a few other strikers wrote dozens of songs at the time. I wrote about a dozen myself, and if you don't start submitting some of your own, I'm going to add one of my each day until I run out. Then I'll write some more.  Songs from any movement are welcome: peace, labor, civil rights, homeless advocates, environmental, gay rights, or even such things as anti-affirmative action or english only, if you sing about such points of view.   But I'm getting ahead of myself. I went to the first strike meeting armed with a new song, written to the tune of "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys Are Marching":

I'm the sixth assistant paper inventory analyst
And you know I've got just too much work to do,
Watching thirteen secretaries,
Three accountants and a clerk
Counting all those composition books for you.

First Chorus
We need more administrators
We just outnumber teachers three to one.
Screw the teachers, cut their pay,
Schools don't need them anyway.
Oh, we'll put them in their place before we're done.
It's a tough and vital job counting composition books,
There's an element of danger in it, too:
You might get slivers in your bum
Or mess your pants with bubblegum;
Why, just last week I got a thumbtack in my shoe.

Second Chorus
We need more administrators
Creative education is our aim
If the funds are getting low
We can let some teachers go--
Everybody knows that they're the ones to blame.

Subject: SB: We Can't Take Any More by Mary G
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:02 AM

We Can't Take Any More by Mary G

Mary G's Comments:  Here's a song about refugee kids I worked with . . . names are real.

Maybe from Galway and maybe Saigon
The ships to American sail right along
And the first words they hear on America's shore
Go away go away we can't take any more

Chorus:
For it's getting too crowded here under the flag
And you're noisy and dirty and carry the plague
So we will tell you what our folks heard before
Go away go away we can't take any more

Someday I'll ask every young refugee
Where did you come from and what did you see
What sorrow what famine what slaughter what war
How much did you take till you couldn't take more

So Carlos and Dang and Phat and Rashid
And Tuck and Mohammed grow up with good speed
And forget when we met you we ranted and swore
Go away go away we can't take any more

And when you are citizens duly sworn in
You'll go down to where others before you have been
And greet the next ship to America's shore
Go away go away we can't take any more.

Subject: SB: The Virus Song by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:01 AM

The Virus Song by Mbo

We must make haste
We must make haste
We need some RNA reverse transcriptase!

We'll dethrone your chromosomes
We'll steam your genes
We'll steal you alleles!

Your rough ER and your smooth ER
They try their best
But here we are!

Your nucleus and lysosomes
They try to throw things at us
But we're busy disassembling your Golgi apparatus!

We all have protein capsules
And some have spores to boot
We can lie asleep for 10,000 years
And still wake up and go up your snoot!

© Matthew Richards 2000

Subject: SB:Vhere Da Rippling Vaters Flow (Lloyd Michalsen)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 01:00 AM

Vhere Da Rippling Vaters Flow by Lloyd Michalsen (Lloyd62)
(July 6, 2000 - Key of G)

Vell I vent to Min-ne-so-ta , vhere da rip-pling va-ters flow,
It t'was a sommer hol-i-day, a fish-ing ve vould go
But, Opal she had other plans, to Rochester ve vill go
She vanted me to visit the clinic of May-yoo. (O N0) 

Chorus:
I lost my little prostate where da rippling vaters flow,
Now here I sit for ten days in a bag my pee vill go.
I came to Min-ne-so-ta, to fish the vaters blue
Now here I am in Min-ne-so-ta held together vit string and glue. (YA)

Da little lady doctor at my testicles she did stare,
She said not to vorry, just a little swelling going on down there.
O No, she is going to take it too, but Opal said, Not True,
And if she did, vhy vorry, you know dat you have twooo. ( O NO)

(Chorus)

When Gabriel blows his Trumpet , on Resurrection Day
The dead in Christ will all arise, Perfect in every way.
I will have to excuses my self, when the Mill-enn-i-um starts
I need to go to Min-ne-so-ta to find my missing parts. (YA)

(All together, one last time on the chorus.)
I lost my little prostate where da rippling vaters flow,
Now here I sit for ten days in a bag my pee vill go.
I came to Min-ne-so-ta, to fish da vaters blue
Now here I am in Min-ne-so-ta held together vit string and glue. (YA)

Subject: SB: Valley Of The Towering Shadows (Genie)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 May 11 - 12:58 AM

Valley Of The Towering Shadows by Genie
(sheet music available upon request via email -- [e-mail])
(2/4 time - moderate pace)

G             F          C                         D
On our / journey / to the promised / land, /
G                         Em          C          D
Ambushed by an / unseen / outlaw / band, /
Em                                             Am
Most of us sur- / vived, but so / many fell that / day,
             D          D7          C          D          G
Many / sisters, / brothers / perished in the / fray. /

         F         C             F               G
In / shock, / anguish, / terror and / dread, /
G          Em                           C                       D
Vision / blurred -- couldn't / see the road a- / head--,
          Em                                        Am                                   D
We / knew it was a / crossroads; / nothing more was / clear. /
                         D                         C          D          G
Couldn't find our / way through the/ smoke / and our / tears. /     /

                    G                    F               G
Through The / Valley Of the / Towering / Shadows, /
               G#                    G                    D          D7
Could we / move ahead in / spite of our / fears? /
                  Em                                             Am
Could we / feel beyond the / hate? Could we / see our way / clear?
                    D                    D7                       C     D7             G
Could we / reach beyond our / rage, / See the way through our / tears? /

(Repeat melody of last line of chorus instrumentally)

                G               F            C                         D
We'd been / living in a / garden, / rich beyond com- / pare. /
                    G                 Em                       C                       D7
Some had / called it the / promised land and / wanted to stay / there. /
                Em                                                  Am
But there / is no promised / land when there is / want outside the / wall
               D               D7             C          D          G
And the / dream is / "liberty and / just-i- / ice* for / all,"     /     /     /

                      G                         F                    G
So we said, / "Even through the / Valley Of the / Shadow,
          G#             G                    D7
We'll / move a- / head in spite of / fear--     /     /
Em               Am
Dust in our / eyes, / eyes on the / prize--
          D                            C        D7             G
The / promised land worth / all our toil and / tears." /     /     /

                  F               C             F                     G                    G
Then the / skyline on / fire, the / smoke and the / screams!  /     /
                  Em            C                              D7
Buildings / crumbling / with our hearts and / dreams!/     /
          Em                                   Am
Now / some of us are / cowering, /     frozen in our / tracks.     /
D                                        D7            C            D               G
Many cry for / vengeance!  /     Some /  say we / must turn / back. /     /

                      G                    F               G
Through The / Valley Of The / Towering / Shadows, /
               G#                     G                    D7
Can we / move ahead in / spite of all our / fears? /
               Em                                        Am
Can we / feel beyond the / hate? Can we / see our way / clear, /
   D                         D7                    C     D7             G
Reach beyond our / rage, / See the way / through our / tears? /

(Repeat melody of last two lines of chorus instrumentally.)

G                                   F          C                 D
Now, once more we're / moving, / anger justi- / fied,
          G               Em        C          D7
As- / sured that / God is / on our / side, /
          Em                                        Am                                   D
But / have we got our / bearings e- / nough to compre- / hend /
                              D7        C         D                G
Just where we're / going, / where / it all might / end?  /

             G                      F                    G
Is the / garden now the / Valley Of The / Shadow? /
                G#               G               D7
Will to- / morrow be / hostage to / fear? /
               Em                                      Am
Are we / guided more by / hate or by / all we hold so / dear?*
                D                 D7                  C        D7               G
Can we / channel this / rage, see the / way / through our / tears? /

            G                         F                    G
Yes,  / even through The /Valley Of The /  Shadow, /
             G#                   G               D7
We'll / move a- / head in spite of / fears. /     /
  Em                         Am
Tears in our / eyes, / Eyes on the / prize, /
          D                            C        D7          G
The / promised land, the /  hope of all the /years.
  Em                         Am
Tears in our / eyes, /  Eyes on the / prize, /     /
          D                           C          D7          G
The / promised land, / the hope /  of all the / years. /     /     /



* With each measure getting 2 beats, the word "justice" uses 3 beats and the word "for" uses one.
**Alternate lyrics:
     Verse four: "Then our world crashed down, as from a great earthquake,
     Would our faith now shatter like the buildings in its wake."
     Next to last chorus: "Are we greater than this hate?
     Will the dream again be clear?

Words and music by Jeanene Pratt ©2001, 2002; All rights reserved.

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:56 PM

Well, that's three hundred posts in this thread. I guess it's time to post another space-filler message, in case I missed a song. If somebody would like to volunteer to double-check this to make sure I didn't miss any songs, please let me know.
Thanks.
-Joe-

Subject: SB: Untitled by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:54 PM

Untitled by MMario

The day is not quite over
But I fear that I must sleep
Now I must leave the party
But I beg you, love, "Don't weep."

I've danced to fiddle music
and I've sung the songs we share
and I leave you now amongst the hands
of friends who truly care

When you're feeling lonely
Remember all the hours
That we have shared together
Amongst life's brightest flowers

Just hold me in your memory
As I'll hold you in mine
And I promise I'll be waiting
That we'll meet another time

Subject: SB: Union Worker, Union Boss by Barry Finn
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:53 PM

Union Worker, Union Boss by Barry Finn
Tune: King Cotton, Traditional

Who'll protect you from the Union
Who'll protect you from the boss
who will care for your wages
Who will see that your job's not lost

Will you walk the line when the agent says picket
Will you fight with scabs and carry signs
Will you share in the payoff to end the protest
Will you close your eyes to the sight of crime

Where do you stand on graft and corruption
When the shop steward's a thug tell me how do you feel
When you can't find work if you can't do favors
Where will you turn to find your next meal

Does your voice start to freeze in the face of extortion 
Does embezzlement seem like a white collar crime
When do you sweat from your organized labor
Do you fear that you feel like it's organized crime

Now it's the boss and the laborer who fear the Unions
One gives their blood and one gives their bone
Once a job begged for mercy now it cries murder
Will you be fit to work when the job's all done

Copyright Barry Finn

Subject: SB: Twenty Years Experience by Al Boyce (Trapper)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:51 PM

Twenty Years Experience © Al Boyce 3/17/95 (a/k/a Trapper)

Tommy and his older buddies
went out drinking at the bar.
A pal had just reached the age of manhood,
being 20, Tommy drove the car.
But when Tommy tried to sneak a beer,
the waitress gave his ID a glance.
Tom said, "I've been drinking all my life,
I got 20 years experience."

20 Years experience
at drinking from a glass.
20 years experience,
at drinking, I surpass!
And what'cha mean this ain't my real ID?
Oui, "mah-damn", I really AM from France!
And we all start drinking young there
so I got 20 years experience!"

Thomas got him a wife and family,
and a mortgage at the bank.
Age 30 found him flat broke,
with his blue-collar job to thank.
So he applied for a higher paying job,
that would help him pay the rent.
But his boss said, "We've hired an outside guy
who's got 20 years experience."

20 years experience?
I bet that guy's his brother-in-law!
20 years experience?
I'd like to bust him right on his jaw!
The boss would see that I'm the better man
if he had just a lick of sense!
I'm gonna tell him just where to stick his
frickin' 20 years experience!

The gang surprised old Tom with a party
for his lasting 40 years.
He barely blew out all the candles,
and he had too many beers.
He started flirting with some sweet young thing,
She said, "Tom, I think you're Too Old to dance!"
He said, "Hell, I'm only just 20, honey -
with 20 years experience!"

20 years experience
at developing my style!
20 years experience
at making the ladies smile!
Younger guys are fast and foolish,
older men have elegance...
'cause when it comes to being 20
I got 20 years experience!

Twenty Years Experience © Al Boyce - All rights reserved

Subject: SB: Traweller's by Skarpi
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:49 PM

Traweller's by Skarpi


Skarpi's Comments:  Here´s a song from Iceland. It´s called Traweller´s. All the best, skarpi

Well you send the boys to Iceland and let them sing for us.
They tell us about the history the people and the cult.

Chorus:
And they sing about the roses and whiskey in the jar
All the Galway races and Nelson's big pillar.
So in the end they all say I´m Off to Amerikey,
Theres money and gold and plenty and I never will have to stray.

Well they sing the songs so brightly and it comes from their heart.
With every song they sing so bright they drive us from the dark.

Chorus: x 1.

Skarpi (November 1999)

Subject: SB: Train Ride To Heaven by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:48 PM

Train Ride To Heaven by Mbo
(Words & Music by Matthew Richards)

Well, I'm a Carolina boy
And I'm so far away
From the one I love in Californ-i-ay
I'm gonna catch a train
Gonna catch a train
I'm catch a train out to the coast
Wanna be with the one that I love most
I'm gonna ride

Well, she's the sweetest thing
You ever did see
And I know her love's a-waitin' there for me
I'm gonna ride the rails
I'm gonna ride the rails
I'm gonna ride the rail until we've met
Then I'll give her a kiss that she won't forget!
I'm gonna ride

CHORUS:
Well absence makes the heart grow fonder
So they always say
And I believe it, 'cause I love her more
With every passing day
But the miles and miles between us
I wish I could erase
Then I'd be there, all wrapped up
In my angel's sweet embrace

They told me if my love is true
Then I gotta go and show her
But this old train couldn't get much slower
I'm gonna fix this train
Yeah, I'm gonna fix this train
I'm gonna power this train on rocket fuel
So I can give her my love in just a minute or two
I'm gonna ride

CHORUS

Yeah, I'll be riding those rails
Into the Western sunset
My heart beating faster the closer I get
I'm gonna ride the rails
I'm gonna ride the rails
Well, one day that girl's gonna be my bride
And trains I'll never have to ride again...

And it's then that her name will be known...
And she's never again gonna be alone!

CHORUS

Matthew Richards (2000)

Subject: SB: Too Many Roosters by Pinetop Slim
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:46 PM

Too Many Roosters by Pinetop Slim

1.
Oh he played the pied piper when his hammer did ring
Come along, we'll make beautiful things
With adze, planes and drawknives, turned rough walnut blocks
Into fiddles and grandfather's clocks
But one thing he always kept simple
'Twas a long narrow box made of pine
I don't need a yacht to cross Jordan
This old-fashioned boat will do fine

Chorus:
He saw too many roosters a-fightin'
He saw too many nights through moonshine
Two-hundred-eight souls rode his boats across Jordan
And you know they can't leave him behind

2.
Now some folks who had snubbed him cause he raised so much hell
Looked to heav'n when they asked if he'd sell
That long narrow pine box, for a dear loved one
Whose hard work on this good earth was done
He'd never say no to a neighbor
Least not when the lord's called one home
Just pay me for the board and the labor
The next one I'll build as my own

(Chorus)

3.
As his name spread around, a lot of plain-livin' folks
Sought the man who built old-fashioned boats
Keep it simple and rough, no fancies nor frills
Match my coffin to my life in these hills
In time, his saw's song fell silent
And sorrow soaked me right to the bone
He said son it's no time to be cryin'
Finish the boat that will carry me home

Final Chorus:
He saw too many roosters a-fightin'
He saw too many nights through moonshine
Two-hundred-eight souls rode his boats across Jordan
And you know they can't leave him behind
Lord, please make room for number two-hundred nine.

© Mark Flanagan

Subject: SB: To Write The Uni-Verse by The Shambles, etc.
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:45 PM

To Write The Uni-Verse by The Shambles, Amos, Praise, katlaughing, Mbo, Troll, MMario, mcmoo, Molly Malone, and Lonesome EJ

The Shambles' Comments:  With thanks to all the contributors and after six days hard work and one day of rest, I wish to announce that the UNI-VERSE is now finished and ready to proudly make it's way in to The Mudcat Songbook.  The world is but a song.  This thought struck me today as I realised that we must think in those terms.  For do we not refer to the 'whole shooting match' as THE UNI-VERSE.   Now this IS collective a song challenge:  To write the Uni-Verse……..?.  Our at least a, Uni-Verse.  *(I have it in my head for some strange reason, that tune-wise this should be a square dance, calling,, music then verse, 'take your partners' type thing)


For a song challenge, can there be one worse?
Than just to write the Uni-Verse
Everything and nothing can be used
But only serves to make you more confused

For a song challenge, why what could be better.
The world is your subject, so get off your setter. 
Fire up the old keyboard, let your talent take wing. 
(I can't wait for the verses that this one will bring!) Troll

Your space and your time keep our poor spirits locked
But we found a way by you: We sing and we rock
We blues, harp and banjo 'til our spirits go free
So you'll have to do better us'ns mean to stay free! Amos

Out of Chaos came not "The Word"
But "THE SONG" for those who heard
Melody of crystal sphere
Harmonies in every ear.  MMario

If your rhymes don't scan, when you try to write,
If they just don't work, though you work all night, 
If you start to think that you're not too bright, 
Don't despair!You just need rhythm. 
If the songs keep buzzin' through your head,
If they wake you up, as you lie in bed, 
If it seems like rhyme , and line won't wed, 
Don't despair! You just need rhythm. 
Just count the beat, it isn't tough, 
Though I'll admit that rhymings rough,
You hang in there and sure enough, 
Hey Baby! You got rhythm!  Troll

Thou, spiral, cosmos, far, entrancing
Do not see us down here, dancing
You, we grant you, space, are Big
But we do not give a fig!

Though you seem so never ending
You know nothing of befriending
Nor of knowing, seeing, being
Or affections warm and freeing

Endless spacetime, force and masses
Which to you for grandeur passes
Keep your endless ground, expanding
We have simple Understanding.  Amos

The great Big Bang? That was some feat… …
or was it just the Great Bodhran Player
Anticipating the beat? mcmoo

Out of nothing grew the song
The one great Verse that we all belong.
But, wrap around our heads for naught
For all is nothing so we're taught.

The great AUM in silent contemplation
Becomes a chorus of Divination.
The Uni-Verse is this: A nothingness of everything
Silent, heard within as this we sing.  katlaughing

Matter never seems to care
Light and matter are unfair
Justice, Truth and Things that Matter
Cruel space just leaves to splatter!

Are we dull Chemistry's daughter?
Carbon life forms, filled with water?
One telling fact this Lie doth show --
Matter never learned to Know.  Amos

Space and time, feel their heatbeat,
Steady beating, soft and sweet.
Like the Bodhrán, keeping time 
Mother Nature writing rhyme.   Molly Malone

Things are grim, but they could get worse,
In the physical Universe
Winter woes can chill your dreams
Entropy unman your schemes

But mankind just keeps on bragging
Armed with spirit, never flagging
Keep the rhythm, and the time
All that matter's in your mind!   Amos

Chemistry and Spirit Melding
Dust to diatoms descending
the sea within all cells is showing
the descent we are not knowing.  MMario

In the beginning, there was One
He made the planets, moon, and sun 
Dwarfs of red and giants blue 
Asteroids and quasars too 
Accretion disks and flavored quarks
Satellites with odd-shaped marks 
Clusters open, clusters tight 
Neutrinos speeding through the night
Nebulas and clouds of gas 
Calculated Jovian Mass 
And here and there He chose to scatter
Heaps of dark and puzzling matter 
But scientists they say I'm wrong 
It's cold hard science all along 
But I know of the One who wrought
The universe from just a thought 
He made these things not as a toy 
But as something we could all enjoy 
"But why so puzzling?!" you may cry....

The Answer: 

To keep humanity asking "why?"  Mbo

Why this furious analyzing,
Life should always be surprising,
Dullness, dreary without end, 
Knowing what's 'round every bend.
Not for me the sheltered life, 
Give me danger, give me strife, 
always going to, not from. 
Look out universe, here I come!  Troll

Water shimmers, rushes by
Karma mends the earth and sky
Fire burns, lighting brightly
Arms of wind do wrap us tightly.  Molly Malone

The Universe is still expanding
The soaring rocks on which we're standing
Hurtle toward their destination
Regardless of our consternation
Nebulae go shooting past
Fragments of the Primal Blast
Did God Almighty have the notion?
Or is this so much random motion
Did someone set the clockwork going?
And if he did, is he past knowing
Our dreams, our hopes, our blind desires
Sleeping 'neath the ancient fires
Kindled there at Time's beginning
Heedless of our pride and sinning
And yet we turn our Human Face
To view the tractless void of space
And seek within this wasteland broad
the contours of the Face of God.   Lonesome EJ

The Uni-verse Song was an interesting idea,
And I fear I'm too late to do more than just seeya.
Your words were inspiring, your tunes a delight.
Now is it time, dears, to bid a good night?

Shamb laid the challenge, and you all have weighed in.
But d'ye think that the Universe could actually fit in?
The song need not end but the thread will wax long;
And the time may soon come when we all will move on.

Another sun's coming with another day's zest,
And another opportunity to give Mudcat your best.
Another idea, or challenge, or joke;
A spirit to lift or, perhaps, eye to poke.

Another book to be planned, or a tune to research.
Lots of LOL, and perhaps a dessert.
Tomorrow has come, and inside it I see
That the Mudcat is always a good place to be.  Praise

Talking Quantum Physics, Ying and Yang
Can't hear nothing, for that old 'Big Bang'
But where I ask, did that 'Big Bang' start?
In an empty void or in God's big heart?  The Shambles

God's Word on the subject, I think, is quite clear,
The problem-- we listen with our poor human ear.
He's given us options to access what's True,
And I wonder-- which option works best for you?  Praise

Subject: SB: The Token Reversed by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:43 PM

The Token Reversed by McGrath of Harlow (originally posted on this thread)

McGrath's Comments:  . . . here is a revised version of the song I wrote earlier, with a few chords.  (I might stick it on my website with a Real Audio file for the sake of the tune.)

              G 
The moon it was hidden, 
               C        G
And the night it was still
        C                G
As a tired weary figure,
                           D
Trudged over the hill. 
              G
And he came to a window, 
                C               G
"Are you wakin', my dear"
            C                     G
And a voice came like thunder
                   C          D    G
"We'll have none of that here!" 
         C
"For I've never seen you, 
                   G
And you've nothing to gain here
         C                          G
And you'll not be stayin' here 
                        D
So just cut and run. 
             C
And be off now, young stranger
             G                     D
You're dancin' with danger 
              C             G
For I've got you in range an'
        C      G   D   G
My hand's on my gun." 

"Oh Nancy, my bonny, 
Can't you se that it's me
Your handsome young Johnny
Who is home from the sea. 
Now I tried you to test you
And you passed very well
But now I am wet through
And it's raining like hell."
"So give over your jokin', 
this rain's got me chokin'
can't you see that I'm soakin,
I'm wet to the skin.
Take a look at this token,
you can see that it's broken
so would you just open
and let me come in."


"Oh Johnny, be easy, 
I've bad news and good, 
For I'm not your lady, 
Let that be understood. 
You must know that your Nancy, 
Has wed with the squire. 
But you've taken my fancy, 
So come in by the fire." 
"And don't think I'm jokin', 
this rain's got you chokin',
I can see that you're soakin,
You're wet to the skin.
Forget that old token,
Sure, the bloody thing's broken,
so just wait while I open
and I'll let you come in."


But Johnny stood shaken,
And he cried out "Oh no -,
If my Nancy's been taken, 
Back to sea I will go." 
"Oh Johnny", says Nancy, 
"Two can play at that game
And what's sauce for the gander
For the goose is the same." 
"Let's be done with the jokin', 
this rain's got you chokin'
I can see that you're soakin,
You're wet to the skin.
Let's just mend the old token,
And join what was broken
so just wait while I open
and I'll let you come in."


© Kevin McGrath May 19th 2000 

Subject: SB: To Be With You by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:42 PM

To Be With You by Amergin
(Tune: Carrickfergus)

I wish I was back in California
If only to lie there by your side
Watching the sun slowly sink down
Into the ocean's ebbing tide
But the miles asre long to Portland
And the rain beats the Oregon streets
I remember your laughter and your smile
And feeling your gentle heartbeats

Fiery shadows flickered across your face
I was staring deep into your brown eyes
Fingers stroking the palm of your hand
falling asleep to your loving sighs
Watching you sleep through the night
Feeling your skin pulse against my chest
Holding your tender warmth to my body
Cuddling to the softness of your breast

My lonesome thoughts bring back sad reflections
Of those happy times I spend with you
And I would hear your loving laughter
As we laid together in the morning dew
And then the time when we last parted
With tear stained eyes you walked out the door
My own salt tears hid in the shadows
I long to see your smile once more

Subject: SB: To A Child by mousethief
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:41 PM

To A Child by mousethief

mousethief's Comments:  This is a lullabye I wrote before I ever had any kids.  Chords are FMaj7 and C, alternating, throughout (starting on FM7), two chords per "line" of the words as written here.  this clicky takes you to a page with an embedded midi of the melody (melody is same for chorus as for verses) (It's a little rough in the timing area, for which I apologize -- I haven't quite got the midi-maker program sussed yet.)

(Chorus -- repeat after each verse and twice at end)
Cry a little softer now
Put your head on my shoulder
Laugh a little louder now
In love, as you grow older

Once there was a baby child
In this darkness a stranger
Lying in His mother's arms
In a straw-filled manger
He would grow to be a man
He would suffer and die
But now she held him to her breast,
Mother's love in her eye

Once there was a preacher-man
Who would preach by the sea
People came to see Him there
Asking, Who can He be?
Mothers with their babes in arm
Would come down to the sea
He would call the children near
Saying, Come unto Me

Once I was a child like you
I could laugh without care
But now the world has hemmed me in
I have burdens I must bear
Teach me how to feel your love
And the laughter you bring
I would be a child once more
A child of the King

©1983 Alex E. Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: SB: Time Zones by Micca
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:40 PM

Time Zones by Micca

Oh it's summer time in Britain 
When it's winter down in Sydney
And the wild Mountain time
Is six hours ahead or twenty? 

Chorus:
Do you know, lassie, know? 
What the time is in Colorado? 
Or with kat in Wyoming 
Or Catspaw in Ohio? 
Do you know, lassie, know? 

What time is Radio 'Cat? 
If your Bonnie in Toronto
All this complicated math
Makes me want to lie down, pronto, 

Has the Hearme come and gone? 
While the time I'm spending counting
All this trouble with the time zone
And my phone bill it is mounting

When I first came to this infernal
Place, I was carefree
Now I have become nocturnal
And I need a maths degree

I am going to get a plug in
That will do the calculations
Of the Wild Mountain Time
And of all the other stations

Subject: SB: This Is Our House by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:39 PM

This Is Our House by Amergin

The flowers wink in the morning sun
Dancing in the garden with the wind
The trees chatter to each other
Rustling branches, leaves entwined

The birds pop up from their nests
Softly singing to their loved ones
The house stands glittering bright
Embraced in the arms of the sun

Chorus:
It's the house we lived in for 13 years
Throughout the hard times and the good
This is the yard we used to play in
And this is our neighborhood

The afternoon rays leak through the windows
The dogs are all sleeping in the shade
Our birds chirp and dance to "Green Acres"
Over the distant whirr of the mower blade

An ad on the tv advertises Cologne
A radio blares out a Top 40 song
My parents look about themselves and think
That this is where they do belong

Chorus

Now we gather within the evening shadows
The foreclosure notice in my father's hand
His eyes are red, he wipes them with his sleeve
His heart is broken and he can barely stand

Mom looks at me, tears running down her cheeks
I gaze deep down into her watery eyes
The boxes in storage, the bags ready to go
I take one last look and kiss the door goodbye

Chorus

Subject: SB: Thirty Pieces of Silver by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:37 PM

Thirty Pieces of Silver by The Shambles


My family fished for generations
It was all that we knew
The village bore it's losses Together, we would see it through
Now The Sunbeam dies in the harbour
We are paid to tear her apart
Now I may not perish on the ocean
Still, the fishing's in my heart

The pit work was dirty
But in to it, you just grew
It had its compensations
At the time; I thought them few
And now with all this spare time
My skill with pool cue and the dart
I look to the past, not the future
Still, the pit is in my heart

My father served in the Navy
His father, before him too
It was not the proud traditions
Just the only thing to do
Not a job, more like a family
In which, you played your part
And now they've closed down the dockyard
Still the Navy's in my heart

Thirty pieces of silver, how long will it last? 
With it you buy my future, my present and my past
With it you buy my future, my present and my past
Thirty pieces of silver, how long will it last?

Roger Gall

Subject: SB: Thiepval* by Micca
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:36 PM

Thiepval* by Micca
(May 2002)

Its Halloween** midnight in the low lands of Flanders
A cold pale fog on the land it is spread
And out of the mist, come a marching and singing
Long gaunt files of men near a hundred years dead

They stand, parade order, by the building at Thiepval
And at the command each steps up and stands tall
And receives in his turn from the ghost Colour Sergeant
His name rank and number removed from the wall

Their spectral Officer call the dismissal
And grey NCOS give each man his paybook
They salute and depart from the grim fields of Flanders
Without a glance sideways or a backward look

They march away and their singing is fading
But long before dawn their home places they've found
And finally back, after nearly a century
Each man with relief can sink into home ground

And all over Blighty*** their names are erasing
From column, memorial and empty tomb
The lost and the missing that have no known resting place
Returning to lie in their dark native womb

And now here at Thiepval there stands a cold monument
Blank and unmarked made of pale Portland stone
Because all the men it was made to memorial
Have all returned home, to sleep still with their own

"There's a long, long trail a winding into the land of my dreams
Where nightingales are singing and a pale moon gleams"


*Thiepval:  A monument to WW1 dead in Flanders on which the names, ranks and numbers of 75,026 men are inscribed who have no known resting place
**Halloween:  It is believed in some cultures that at Halloween, when the veil between the dead and the living worlds are thin, every 100 years those that met with sudden or violent death are allowed back to correct a wrong or right an injustice.
***Blighty: WW1 slang for Britain (or home) to "cop a Blighty", was to get wounded badly enough to be invalided home

Copyright M.A. Patterson, May 2002

Subject: SB: They Were Only Children by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:35 PM

They Were Only Children by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  This song was written for the 50th Anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, for Ester Brunstein and others who bravely returned there for that event and for the many others who did not.   The survivors of the Holocaust, who were still alive in 1994, were only children in 1944.  I chose the phrase, they were only children, very carefully, as this phrase seemed to sum up our ambivalence to children. For it has two, quite opposite meanings.   The first one is our compassion when we realise that it was children that had to endure these horrors and endure them still in 1999. As in "poor things they were only CHILDREN".   The second is the one that enable us to abuse and inflict pain and suffering on them and deny them the same consideration and rights, as we would adults, because they are ONLY children.   It would seem a good time to discuss our attitude toward the children of the world.


Through the frosty window, candles on the track,
She can smell them burning, there's no turning back
It's all written, in the lines on her face,
Look to blame no one, it's all our disgrace.

Are we not one family, on an island of stone?
We live with thousands, but die alone.

Why are they returning, old women and old men?
For eyes that have seen so much, were but children's then.
They were only children, what crime did they do?
For children they remain, be they Moslem, Serb or Jew

Are we not one family, on an island of stone?
We live with thousands, but die alone.

The place is in colour, surprised by the light,
I thought our darkest dreams, we dreamed in black and white?
The horrors are endless, what do you mention first?
One child, torn for her mother, what could be worse?

She's lost her family, lost her home,
Shipped with thousands, all died alone

The lessons are for learning, we don't seem to learn?
She looks to the candle, to watch it burn.

THEY....... WERE ONLY CHILDREN.
What crime did they do?
THEY....... WERE ONLY CHILDREN.
What crime did they do?
THEY....... WERE ONLY CHILDREN.

They.......... were only children.

ROGER GALL 1994

Subject: SB: That Wrong Road Again by BSeed (Charles Kratz)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:33 PM

That Wrong Road Again by BSeed (Charles Kratz)


The Shambles' Comments:  After adding a message to the copyright thread, I decided to try what I described and give a song its first publication. I wrote this a couple of months ago when it looked like the US was about to resume bombing in Iraq.   The melody is kind of generic folk, somewhat implied by the harmonic structure. I don't know how to put in MIDI (the directions I saw on some thread or other don't work for me because they were Windows and I'm Mac). --seed

Timing: 4/4 with each chord name in parentheses indicating one measure. The E7 chords are in brackets[ ] to indicate the change is in mid measure.   Oh, by the way, it's one measure per chord in parentheses: note that the E7 is in brackets, indicating it comes in the middle of the measure after the C. This time I've played it through off the thread to make sure all the chord changes are in the right places.

(Chorus)
(G7){two-three} Oh, we're (C)headin' down that (G)wrong road a-(C)gain, (C)
Back (F)on our way to (G7)somewhere we (C)shoulda' [E7]never (Amin)been;
We're (F)headin' down that (G)wrong road a-(C)gain, (Amin)
We're (F)headin' down that (G)long, wrong road a-(C)gain.

(Verse)
(C){two,three) There's this (C)guy across the (C)water got our (F)captain awful (C)pissed,
And our (C)captain says it's (C)time to make him (G)pay (G7)
He says (C)folks who play with (C7)matches can't com-(F)plain if they get (C)burnt;
He says (C)everybody (G)knows that that's the (C)way.
And I (F)guess that's right, but (G7)still I feel there's (C)something awful (Amin)wrong;
Seems I (F)heard that song from (G7)someone else be-(C)fore
But (F)all that happened (G7)that time was a (C)million [E7]children (Amin)died--
(F)This time should we (F)kill a million (G)more? (G7)

(to chorus again, I see--)

Singing Notes:  After this chorus, over the chords for the second half of the verse, spoken words to the effect: "We're worried about his weapons of mass destruction? Starvation is a weapon of mass destruction...gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'women and children first'" and, after a brief pause, "From the nation that brought the world the blessings of the A-bomb, the H-bomb, the N-bomb (doesn't knock down buildings, just kills people--slowly), a new nuclear weapon, and we've already used it: 'depleted' uranium artillery shells--the gift that keeps on giving: Gulf War Syndrome, birth defects, childhood cancer." and into another chorus, this time repeating the third line but replacing the "Yes, we are" with phrases like "our brakes aren't working" and "out of control" and "look out below" and so on...kind of like Neil Diamond in "Running Against the Wind." --seed

Subject: SB: That's Not My Colorado by katlaughing
From: Joe Offer
Date: 24 Apr 11 - 09:31 PM

That's Not My Colorado by katlaughing
(Click here for tune)

That's not my Colorado
With the blue skies up above,
That's not my Colorado,
Where the school ran with blood.

That's not my Colorado
Where my parents grew up proud
That's not my Colorado
Senseless killing was not allowed.

Colorado was the beauty
Of the Rocky Mountains high
Colorado was the quiet
Of the river's gentle sigh.

Colorado meant a home to me
And now, I know it not
That's not my Colorado
Where the children felt the shot.

That's not my Colorado
With the blue skies up above,
That's not my Colorado,
Where the school ran with blood.

That's not my Colorado
Where my parents grew up proud
That's not my Colorado
Senseless killing was not allowed.

Subject: SB: That Mirror Image by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 20 Jan 11 - 07:42 PM

That Mirror Image by The Shambles

When you're back n the 'old routine'
You're just part of the great machine
The wheels grind round and round
Until the day they finally wear you down
You wipe a tear from your eye
To find that life has past you by

So come, come away with me
To a place where the mountains reach the sea
To watch, the white horses play
As they chase the sun down to another day
I don't care what they say
There's more than one way

You're sure to lose your soul
You're a square peg in a round
Well I know, how hard you tried
But you're just swimming against the tide
That mirror image, is it true?
Is that reflection really you

So come, come away with me
To a place where the mountains reach the sea
To watch, the white horses play
As they chase the sun down to another day
I don't care what they say
There's more than one way

Roger Gall 1999

Subject: SB: Tears And Winter Rain (The Shambles)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 20 Jan 11 - 07:41 PM

Tears And Winter Rain (A Song For Kayla) by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  This was not easy and I would not have chosen to attempt it but I am glad, now that I did.  I would urge others to attempt it too.  For whatever the merits of the end product, the quiet process of close examination of this truly terrible event does, enable some kind of personal accommodation to be arrived at.  It does not however provide much comfort for those who are directly involved in this particular case but, they are in my thoughts.  I was just trying to avoid thinking too much about it before, for she could have been my daughter and he could be my son.

The slightest glimpse of springtime
Drowned in tears and winter rain
Has the sun fallen so low
That it will never rise again?

Will things now be different?
Without you, they can never be the same
May the spark of your short life
Light a long and lasting flame

This life was not of her choosing
She made no choice to die
She did not 'choose her weapon'
Or choose not, to say goodbye

You and I do have a choice
And I choose to question why?
And if you choose to answer
Don't choose another 'bloody' lie

The slightest glimpse of springtime
Drowned in tears and winter rain
Has the sun fallen so low
That it will never rise again

Will things now be different?
Without you, they can never be the same
May the spark of short life
Light a long and lasting flame

© Roger Gall 2000 

Subject: SB: Talking Maple Syrup Blues by Willie-O
From: Joe Offer
Date: 20 Jan 11 - 07:40 PM

Talking Maple Syrup Blues by Willie-O
(There ain't no tune, you just play it.)


Willie-O's Comments:  I remember back a few years ago when the price of maple syrup was just getting up to about twenty bucks a gallon, my neighbour in the city said to me:  "Can you believe the price of that stuff!  After all, it just comes out of trees, right?"  I wrote this song, or talking blues, or whatever it is, to set the record straight.

Just about five weeks ago we went out to the bush
And started drillin' holes in the sugar maple trees
When the tractor got stuck well we just got off and pushed
Till the damn thing blew a gasket

We all took some time off our regular jobs
Found a tractor that wasn't all done
Got the trails and the spikes and the buckets set out
Then we waited for the sap to run (and waited...and waited...and waited...)

Two weeks passed and we all went back to work
It looked like we'd get bugger-all.
Nobody would say it but I guess we all thought
This was the year that it wouldn't run at all.

What with greenhouse effect, and yer gypsy moth
Not to mention yer acid rain
The maple trees are hurtin', when they should be spurtin'
And someday they just won't run again.

But sure enough when we all got busy
With a million other things to do
The nights got clear and the ground began to thaw
and the sap came a pumpin' through.

Boilin' Bob started stokin' the fire day and night
And taking off a gallon or two
While Gary ran the tractor and the rest of us kept busy
Just doin' all the stuff you got to do

We were trottin' round the bush with our white plastic buckets
While the ironwoods whipped us in the face.
I swear to God my arms must have stretched three inches
While the tractor and the wagon I chased.

When the syrup comes off hot, that's when you want to pack it
And the summer kitchen's full of those orange and white cans
They're all labeled and graded and certified organic
So be sure to come and buy some real maple syrup, man.
(We accept cash)

This was the year that our luck finally turned,
We can pay for the tractor and the bottles and cans
We almost got out of the hole we were in...
But for next year we sure need a new front pan.

Yep....I reckon if we're lucky we might come through the season only owing five or six dollars for every hour we put in...it's yer trickle-down ergonomics.  Finally, yesterday we boiled down three hundred gallons of sap to about a quart of syrup. We're talkin' richly flavored, textured, full-bodied organic syrup here.  Burned about five cords of slabwood to do it. That's when the season's done, for sure.

          It's over now, thank God it's over,
          It's over for another year.
          The syruping is done, it sure had us on the run,
          But it's over for another year.

There's a couple of minor details before we're all home free
One is that our houses look like after World War Three.
Another is a thousand buckets still hangin' on the trees
So pass the scrub brush, and the hose and get down on your knees

          It isn't over yet, until the cleanup's done
          This is when our friends stop coming here.
          Get the scrub brush and the hose, be prepared to soak your clothes
          Then it's over for another year.

Copyright 1989, by Bill Cameron

Subject: SB: Talking Bill Gates Blues (PJ Skinner)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 20 Jan 11 - 07:37 PM

Talking Bill Gates Blues or Curtains for Bill Gates by P.J. Skinner


Bill Gates died and to heaven did go
St. Peter said, Bill, there's one thing that I've got to know
You can choose Heaven or Hell, he said with a wink
Have a look at both, and tell me what you think.
(Make the right choice though, it's a decision for eternity)

So he went in through that Golden Gate
The sight before him, both quiet and sedate
Angels all around, kneeling and a praying
Or sat on clouds, with their harps a playing
(Nice but kinda dull - like a snail on valium,)

In Hell the sun shone down on a clear blue sea
There were golden beaches, as far as he could see
The women were beautiful and the beer was free
There was money growing from every tree
(Everything a man could want and then some more)

Now Bill returned to the Golden Gate
Said to St. Peter, I've decided on my fate
I don't want Heaven, it's Hell for me
Cause Hells just perfect, as perfect as can be
(All those Beaches, Babes and Sun swayed our Bill)

Now he's back in Hell, but all's not right
No Babes, no Beaches, and it's always night
No free beer, just aggravation
Things ain't right, it's just pure frustration
(Bill thought Hell had been misrepresented - and that's not honest)

So Bill wrote to God, to complain about his lot
God said, Bill, you're stuck with what you've got
Should have seen the sign on Hell, not those sweet diversions
It said contained inside, the 'preview version'
(That's B for Beta - liable to change - Not the real thing!)

Bill Gate's in Hell, things still going wrong
As a warning to others I wrote this song
So now before you make any decision
Always wait for the final revision

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 01:01 AM

I guess I'd better post another spacer message in case I missed one.

-Joe-

Subject: SB: Sweet Columbine by Dharmabum
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 01:00 AM

Sweet Columbine by Dharmabum

Dharmabum's Comments:  I wrote this song on April 20th 1999 while watching the story unfold on TV.   For all the people who have lost children to violent crime.  Ron.

April 20 just another day, 
Oh columbine, 
Except for those who got in the way, 
Oh sweet columbine, 

The class of nineteen hundred ninety nine, 
With the smell of smoke& columbine, 
Fifteen gone before their time, 
In sweet columbine. 

Some are injured some are dead, 
Oh columbine, 
It could've been our kids instead, 
Oh sweet columbine, 

It might have been you or me, 
No one knows what their fate will be, 
It could've been our destiny, 
To be in sweet columbine. 

The experts sit and analyze, 
Oh columbine, 
Won't stop the tears falling from our eyes, 
Oh sweet columbine, 

They'll never find the reason to be, 
Anything but stupidity, 
The answers up to you and me, 
In sweet columbine. 

What kind of boys could cause this pain, 
Oh columbine, 
Something snapped & they went insane, 
Oh sweet columbine, 

What could we do what could we say, 
That might have changed that fateful day, 
This will never fade away, 
In sweet columbine. 

There is a flower that grows in spring, 
Oh columbine, 
Upon the graves of children gone, 
Oh sweet columbine, 

Where they will lie for the rest of time, 
In a bed of columbine, 
Their memory burning in our minds, 
In sweet columbine. 

April 20 just another day, 
Oh columbine, 
Except for those who got in the way, 
Oh sweet columbine, 

No matter what the reasons be, 
It'll never make sense to me, 
Cause it could never happen here you see, 
In sweet columbine. 

Subject: SB: Summertime In Tennessee by Kim C
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:59 AM

Summertime In Tennessee by Kim C

Kim C's Comments:  This was one I did last summer when we were all griping about it being hot--- 

Well it's summertime in Tennessee
It's plenty hot enough for me
Gonna sing and dance and shout with glee
It's summertime in Tennessee

Well it's summertime in Nashville y'all
We didn't have no spring atall
That's just the way the seasons fall
So grab a beer and let's play ball

It's summertime in the South my friend
It feels like it won't ever end
That mercury hits a hundred and four
You're gonna drop to your knees and pray for snow
I might complain but I must say
I wouldn't have it any other way

When it's July in the Bible Belt
Do you reckon it gets hot as hell
I don't know but I've heard tell
We're in for a long dry spell

Well it's summertime in Tennesee
It's plenty hot enough for me
Gonna sing and dance and shout with glee
It's summertime in Tennessee

(Sugar, would you fix me a cold drink?) :)

c. 2000 Kim Feathers Caudell

Subject: SB: Summertime At Fall Creek by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:57 AM

Summertime At Fall Creek by Amergin

He stands on the culvert
Looking at the cool water below
Legs bending, arms swinging
Flowers dance in the summer glow
The water swallows him whole
His arms pull, his legs kick
As her fingers tickle his body
It's summertime at Fall Creek

He floats to the edge of the hole
And stands on the wet slippery stones
He slowly makes his way onto the land
Unsteady on his quivering bones
The heat bounces off his naked back
Warming his skin, wet and slick
As he stumbles among the rocks
It's summertime at Fall Creek

He climbs back onto the drainpipe
And he stares at the laughing deep
Flowers dance to the chirping birds
He laughs as he takes his leap
He dives down to the sandy bottom
Taking into his hand a sunken stick
Feeling the bubbling course around him
It's summertime at Fall Creek

Subject: SB: Such Is The God by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:55 AM

Such Is The God by The Shambles 

The Shambles' Comments:  It is news, such as the latest mass 'suicide' of up to 470 members of a cult in Uganda, that confirm my belief that we have created God, in our image and not the other way round.


You will find, in the finest of gardens
Some small place, where the wild flowers grow
And you can't train children, like a gardener trains roses
You can't thin out, you just reap what you sow

Inquisitions and witch-hunts and final solutions
Moral pollution, that defeats it's own ends
The obvious answer, is it always the best one?
It's wise to question, both your foe and your friend

The rose and the thorn, fine fruit and the poison
The soldier's warning? Just a young man, afraid
Through the eyes of the uncertain and the cries of believers
Such is the god in whose image we're made
The body of man, the heart of a woman
Songs of bright morning and the cool evening shade
Through the eyes of the poets and lies of deceivers
Such is the God, in whose image we're made

Do you join in the song, that everyone's singing?
Do you follow the path, just because it's well-trod?
Is faith just a way, to avoid hard decisions?
For religions are man-made, not made by God

The rose and the thorn, fine fruit and the poison
The soldier's warning? Just a young man, afraid
Through the eyes of the uncertain and the cries of believers
Such is the god in whose image we're made
The body of man, the heart of a woman
Songs of bright morning and the cool evening shade
Through the eyes of the poets and lies of deceivers
Such is the God, in whose image we're made

Roger Gall 1996 

Subject: SB: The Strength To Leave by mousethief
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:54 AM

The Strength To Leave by mousethief

mousethief's Comments:  This one is kinda dark and graphic. But it expresses something that needs to be expressed, and which is very close to my heart -- stopping and preventing domestic violence.  I'm still working on the tune; it's a sort of descending-notes-of-the-scale sort of thing (cf. "Turn the Page" by Bob Seger, but different).

His supper's late again, he says;
Again he'll "make her pay."
Again he clenches up his fist;
Again she shrinks away.
There are bruises on her arms,
There is purple 'round her eyes
Yet tomorrow she'll protect him
With her self-destructive lies

(Chorus)
This is your mother.
This is your daughter.
This is your sister.
Who will mourn? Who will grieve?
Lord, hear my prayer.
Lord, make it stop.
Lord, help her find the strength to leave.

Again he rips her dress away
And throws her to the bed;
And brutally he takes her,
While she wishes she were dead.
And now, his lust and anger spent,
She hears him drive away.
She wonders why she married him;
She wonders why she stays.

(repeat chorus)

Once there was a little girl
With bright and shining eyes;
She loved lollipops and unicorns,
And rainbows in the sky.
She feels so very old now,
It's hard now to believe
She ever was so joyful.
Lord, give her the strength to leave.

(repeat Chorus)

©2000 Alex E. Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: SB: The Streets by Dharmabum
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:52 AM

The Streets by Dharmabum

Dharmabum's Comments:  Say A Prayer For Dirty by MichaelAnthony got me thinking about something that happened to me some years ago.   It happened in the summer of ' 87.  I was walking the streets of Philadelphia one afternoon.  I saw a man foraging through the trashcans that were lining the streets.  Covered in filth, long greasy hair, wearing an old tattered US army jacket.  Filling his pockets with the treasures he was extracting from those wire mesh containers.  When I caught a glimpse into this mans eyes, I could see that he had been "shifted" off course.  Maybe not that far from the course that most of us follow.  But far enough that he was forced to live in "his world".   I went into a nearby deli & bought a sandwich & a cup of coffee.  I carefully placed the bag with it's contents into one of the trashcans a little further down the street.   As I walked on, I realized the only selfless act I could truly perform would be to offer this man the respect & dignity of not turning around & watching him find what I had left for him.   I never spoke a word to him, nor he to I.  I don't know his story.  This song came from that experience.  I wrote it two years later.

The Streets by Ron Horvath, 1989

I am a man, who's face is weathered,
From many winter days gone by,
I live on streets that have no conscience,
With other souls who cannot fly.

I fought for freedom, in the jungles,
For god & country, in the pouring rain,
I wore my medals on my chest,
I wear my shrapnel in my brain.

My demon's real, though you can't see them,
They scream at night, though you can't hear,
They steal your soul, they break your spirit,
Their names are Ignorance & Fear.

{Chorus}
Cast your eyes down as you walk past me.
Just make believe that I'm not there,
Walk down these streets that have no conscience,
Streets paved with ignorance & fear.

I had a wife, I can't remember,
I had a home, or so they say,
The memories have gotten faded,
The black & white's all become grey.

This cardboard castle is my home now,
Your throwaways, my treasure bin,
All I ask is you don't judge me,
Until you wear these shoes I'm in.

{chorus}

Cast your eyes down as you walk past me,
Just make believe that I'm not there,
Walk down these streets that have no conscience,
Streets paved with ignorance & fear.

So Jesus Christ come be my savior,
I'll drink your wine I'll eat your bread,
I'll live my life out in this jungle,
And you can save me when I'm dead.

{chorus}

© Ron Horvath, 1989

Subject: SB: Stoneground by The Shambles and Mrs. Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:51 AM

Stoneground by The Shambles and Mrs. Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  When we were living in the Shetland Islands, Katrina became very homesick for her birthplace Portland. Which is a big lump of limestone sticking out into the English Channel. The distance between the two places is about as far as you can get and still remain in the UK.  She wrote a poem about how she was feeling then, and if I had read it earlier we would have moved long before we did. We turned it into a song when she was feeling better and living on Portland. I just added the chorus and the first verse.

I see that limestone, look, in your eye
I know you can't help it but still you try
Is it a place you're seeking or a state of mind?
I can take you there, but what would you find

Roaring, pummelling thoughts aside
It plunges deeper, deeper than a knife
Uplifting, in forlorn moments
It ignores the natural forces of life

Stoneground…Where I want to be...On Stoneground
My roots down… Surrounded by the sea…On Stoneground
I'm home!……….I'm home!

Its twisted ways, torturous to the mind
Chosen paths, must be ignored
Like a jealous child, it holds the heart
Return to the nest, in innocence

Debilitating needs, thunder on
Ceaselessly pushing towards it's goal
Taken along, there is no rest
Oh! Let me be where I belong

Stoneground…Where I want to be...On Stoneground
My roots down…Surrounded by the sea…On Stoneground
I'm home!……….I'm home!

© Katrina Gall and Roger Gall. (Started in 1986 and finished after returning home to Portland in 1996)

Subject: SB: Standing At The Altar by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:50 AM

Standing At The Altar by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  This is probably not to be sung at a wedding and not to be take too seriously but it is my latest baby and belongs to all of you at the Mudcat, for it was you who inspired it.  It was one of those songs that appear to write themselves.  It's out of my 'minimilist' period and has two chords, the 1st and 7th.  The sub-title is..... A Single Man's Second Thoughts.

I would like to say I love you but I just don't know
I would like a love that flowers but this just won't grow
I'm counting up the hours, they run so slow
I would like to say I'll miss you but you just won't go

Chorus:
I just can't seem to see the wood from the trees
You won't find me at my best at moments like these
It's not the ground that's shaking it's just my knees
I'm standing at the altar, Lord help me please

I say that there's no water at the bottom of this well
It maybe smells of roses but I've lost my sense of smell
I would like to say it's special but I can't tell
I would like to say it's heaven but it feels like hell

Chorus

I'm just try to tell you everythings gone wrong
But you just carry on singing that same old song
You don't know what you've got until it's gone
I know what I got and I know it don't belong

Chorus

They say that a good woman may turn water into wine
I think maybe somebody must have left the cork in mine
All the things you're saying only come out as a whine
But when you're far away, you will sound just fine

Chorus

Subject: SB: Spring On The Mississippi by Willie-O
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:49 AM

Spring On The Mississippi by Willie-O

Willie-O's Comments:  So I'm minding my own business, and all of a sudden it's friggin spring.  This doesn't normally happen in February in my part of the world, but this year it did, which is extremely weird. Consequently we're having an early syrup season, and I've got my first boil on outside and have to get back to it shortly. In celebration of this, here's yet another song about one of my favourite times of the year! (I think I've posted them all now!)   Gotta run, there's a pan of hot sap calling for my attention...

I think I hear that damn dog barking
Sounds so near to be out of sight
Over the creek, across the valley
He was howling, half of last night.

I used to live in a big old city.
It had its charms, but the times were tight.
Now I live near the Mississippi,
Where I don't mind a little noise at night.

Chorus:
Because spring on the Mississippi comes a little bit sooner here
The ice on the lakes is softening up, but the Mississippi River Runs clear, down to Sheridans Rapids
Now that spring is here.

Now I've heard there's another Mississippi
Flows to a town called New Orleans
The people there throw a hell of a party
Late in the winter when the weather up here is mean

One of these days, I'm gonna see that city
Learn a Cajun waltz called the Jolie Blon.
But when the weather turns warm, and the sap is running
You'll find me here in my northern home.

Chorus:
Because spring on the Mississippi comes a little bit sooner here
The ice on the lakes is softening up, but the Mississippi River Runs clear, down to Sheridans Rapids
Now that spring is here.

Subject: Songs from the Harlow Riding by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:48 AM

Songs from the Harlow Riding by McGrath of Harlow

Subject: SB: Song Of The Third World by InOBU
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:45 AM

Song Of The Third World by InOBU
(Words by Lorcan Otway - Tune "Jamie Foyers")

Who profits, who profits, from all of our pain
While pointing their fingers at our ancient shame
while we stand divided, neighbor's blood on our hands
The industrial nations bleed the wealth from our lands

It's not about difference, we are all the same
We are all the pawns in the colonialist game
my neighbor and I worship God differently
so industrial nations turn my brother against me

My sister was murdered, for the wrongs of the past
In the Chitagong Hills, in the streets of Belfast
In Ramala, or Gujarat, in corners far away
while our poverty feeds gluttony in the USA

What more can I say now to finish this song
Don't look to your neighbor to pay for the last wrong
There is not enough blood to cleanse hatred from the past
But a third world united may end hunger at last

Subject: SB: Song For Caroline by Bradypus
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:43 AM

Song For Caroline by Bradypus

Bradypus' Comments:  This song was written when my daughter Caroline was 2 days old.  It was based on two very strong feelings: firstly, how wonderful life is, especially a new life, and secondly how quickly we learn to love someone new.  I'm sure I felt exactly the same way when Caroline's sisters were born - but this time, I wrote it down so I won't forget.

How does your heart remember to beat? 
Look at your fingers, so tiny and neat 
Red puffy eyes and soft baby skin 
New little life all set to begin.

Sleep when you can, and cry when you need 
Try to look round, and take a good feed 
Awake in the night, we try not to complain 
We just want to make you happy again.

There are people to meet, there are things to be done 
But just being with you is so much more fun. 
And so I've nothing better to do 
Than sit here and wonder at you. 

Subject: SB: Solace by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:41 AM

Solace by Amergin

He sits alone upon the barstool
Thinking of the times that have gone
Memories of laughter and of sorrow
Are but flowers dancing on an empty lawn
He swallows whiskey to kill the pain
To deaden feelings stirred from his past
Feeling the tears leaden his heart
Finding his solace in a whiskey glass

Chorus:
And he hears the music roar around him
And the laughter ringing in his ears
And he's hiding the pain behind his eyes
And he's hiding the trickle of his tears

The barman asks, "Would you like another?"
And he answers, "Yes, that would be good."
He sits back waiting in the barstool
As he recalls the times from his childhood
His boyhood friends laugh in the summer
Swimming in the river as they splash and play
Now they all have their own families
Now they have all gone their separate ways

(Chorus)

Now he finds himself staring at the whiskey
As it swirls round the bottom of his glass
Now his eyes glaze over with his memories
As he feels that cold winter slowly pass
He remembers the colors of her hazel eyes
And the golden hair dripping down her face
Now she's left him to go back to her husband
While he sits alone in this crowded place

(Chorus)

He lifts the glass up to his bearded lips
Feeling the liquor gently burn his throat
His fag burns lazily in the ashtray
And the voices around him begin to float
And he recalls the joking and laughter
Of his family in his young tender days
But now they have all left him behind
Now they sleep in a cold damp grave

(Chorus)

Now he stands from his lonely barstool
And easily staggers through the door
He happily bids goodnight to the barman
Knowing tomorrow he'll be back for more
For the seasons are passing around him
As he deadens the sharp pain of his past
Pouring the liquor down his throat
Finding solace in a whiskey glass

(Chorus)

Now he sits alone upon the barstool
Finding solace in a whiskey glass

© Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: The Softest Touch by Spider Tom
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:39 AM

The Softest Touch by Spider Tom

D
Please understand, a simple man like me, 
C
Could never make a move, you could reject.
D
Beware! The slightest movement of the eye,
C
Might show some feeling, someone could detect.
G D
But worry not I'll hide emotion, be it slight or strong.
C G D
But let me touch you softly, with my song.

D
Do you listen to the words I spill, like tears,
C
That spring from crying of the heart,
D 
Or smile on nonsense, in a song, 
C
That I might finish soon, before you start.
G
As I was running up some hill, 
D
Did your ears track my footsteps, weak or strong,
C
God knows I can't ignore you,
G D 
So, let me touch you, softly, with my song.

(CHORUS)

D 
You understand the meanings, I've wrapped within,
C
And, in between, the lines,
D
At times I trapped your smile in them,
C
I've caught your laughter, often, other times.
G
I wasn't singing solo, your mind was up there,
D
With me, all along.
C
All things in life are possible,
G D
So let me touch you softly, with a song. 

(Chorus)

D G
Could I touch you with my song today, 
D 
For fate may never give another chance, 
G D 
Two paths may cross but once, and never stir the earth in dance. 
G D
I'll keep it simple, you knew I was that, all along.

(Chorus)

C G D
Two paths may cross but once, yet, I might touch you, softly, with a song.

© Ken Robertson 12/10/1999

Subject: SB: Soave, Soave by Schantieman
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:38 AM

Soave, Soave by Schantieman
(Tune: Sovay, Sovay (trad.); New words by Steve Freedman)

Soave, Soave, on any day
Far nicer than a Muscadet
With a bottle and glasses all by your side,
It's with your true love,
It's with your true love you may imbibe

Fitou, Fitou, for me and you
The sort of wine that you have to chew.
And it's made from grapes that grow in the south;
It's rich and fruity,
It's rich and fruity all in your mouth.

Le Beaujolais, nouveau où vieux
Je voudrai boire un verre où deux.
Et le Bourgogne rouge, c'est le vin qui j'aime
Pour boire du soir
Où pour déjeuner, c'est toute la même.

The Beaujolais, if old or new,
I'd like to drink just one glass or two
And red Burgundy, that's the wine I like,
To drink at lunchtime,
To drink at lunchtime or drink at night.

I'd like a glass of Blanc de Blanc
Much better than a bottle of plonk
And Champagne – its bubbles, so mighty fine!
It truly is,
It truly is the king of wine.

For I do intend, all for to drink
These wines I love as well you may think.
And as you can tell from these things I've said
I'll keep on drinking
Until the moment I drop down dead.


Copyright ©S. J. Freedman

Subject: SB: The Smell Of Mother Nature by McGrath
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:36 AM

This song was posted in response to a song challenge made by McGrath of Harlow on this thread.  Below is the newstory that prompted McGrath's challenge:

Mounties Punish Fragrant Offences (June 4, 2000) --  The Canadian province of Nova Scotia has outlawed perfume in public places after claims that it contains toxic chemicals .  The ban, observed in government buildings, schools and a growing number of private workplaces includes all fragrances, including those in hairspray and gel, mouthwash and deodorants. Some employees have been sent home to shower for being too sweetly scented.   The ban signals a victory for anti-perfume activists who lobbied outside the City Hall of the province's capital, Halifax, wearing gas masks. Their complaint is that fragrance is composed of undisclosed chemicals, some of which cause MCS - multiple chemi cal sensitivity. Critics say MCS is a spurious condition.  In Halifax not everyone has come to terms with the anti-perfume rule. An 84-year-old woman was escorted from a council meeting at City Hall for having a dab of perfume behind her ears.  Sheet Harbour High School was the scene of another scent showdown when a 17-year-old pupil refused to trade in his hair gel and deodorant for unscented alternatives. It almost got him a criminal record. His teacher, highly sensitive to fragrance, blamed the scent for triggering a vomiting attack. She called the incident an 'assault' and was backed by the school. The teen was handed over to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police but released without charge. 

The Smell Of Mother Nature by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments:  That last verse scans better with the first line being: Oh these Yanks with their deodorants can be pretty bad to smell . . . But after all the fuss about "fat Americans" I thought I'd better pay safe.   I only hope I haven't been the cause of bad blood between the North Americans neighbours. Or bad breath. But what the hell - here's my contribution in response:

Oh the smell of the pine trees is a smell beyond compare, 
and the smell of the creatures that delight to live in there,
oh the moose and the squirrel and the great big grizzly bear,
you might not hear them coming, but you'll surely know they're here.

Oh the smell of Mother Nature
it is better left alone,
don't you spoil it with your perfume,
we'll have no Eau de Cologne.
We don't mind if you're fragrant,
but that scent you wear is flagrant,
and we'll count you as a vagrant,
yes, we'll lock you in the jail.

Oh these tourists with deodorants can be pretty bad to smell,
with the stuff they stick upon their hair, that kind of smelly gel,
and they come to Nova Scotia with another smell as well -
it's the smell of Coca Cola - and O but that's the stench of hell.

Oh the smell of Mother Nature
it is better left alone,
don't you spoil it with your perfume,
we'll have no Eau de Cologne.
We don't mind if you're fragrant,
but that scent you wear is flagrant,
and we'll count you as a vagrant,
yes, we'll lock you in the jail.

Subject: SB: Sir Tristram -- Tune & Words by Barry Finn
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:34 AM

Sir Tristram -- Tune & Words by Barry Finn

Across the raging waters
Across the Irish Sea
I bring King Mark my Uncle
My love his bride to be

It's dark and I'm dreary
As we sail o'r the main
It's wet and I'm weary
Though I'm with my love again

I was trusted to the Kings right hand
Protector of the realm
There's no a man in all the land
To me would not bow down

My name it is Sir Tristram
Nephew to the King
I am a knight of high renown
Though with the Queen I've lain

May Iseult forgive me
I pray Mark do the same
The love I bare for King and Queen
I'll take unto my grave

Sad is my fate that I should love
The King's chosen Queen
I wished I'd died when I was young
And been born without a name

Barry Finn 1997

Subject: SB: Sir James' Reply by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Dec 10 - 12:31 AM

Sir James' Reply by MMario
(For the tune, click here)


Whither thou Goeth, I'll go.
And Whither thou stayeth, I'll stay.
I''ll be Your Partner Forever, if only You'll say I may.

Put your Hand in my Hand, Dear.
Walk by my Side, My Love!
We were Meant for Each Other,
just as the Hand fits the Glove.

Would that I wake to your Beauty,
at the Dawn of each Day.
And I would praise God each Evening,
if I were Permitted to Say:

Whither thou goeth I'll go.
And whither thou stayeth I'll stay.
I'll be your True Love forever, if only You'll say I may.

With this Ring I would Wed thee,
With your Ring make me thine.
But two Metal Bands, about Our hands, are but the Outward Sign.
The Flame of Love we have Kindled, May it always Shine!
May we always See its Light, in each Others Eyes!

Whither thou goeth I'll go.
And Whither thou stayeth I'll stay.
Side by Side, forever, if only You'll say I May.

Let us grow Olde together,
United through thick and through thin.
Two made One, forever, Surrounded by Kindred and Kin!
I will pledge You my Love, Dear;
If You will pledge yours Mine.
All I have, and All I am, are Yours for All of Time!

Whither thou goeth I'll go.
And whither thou stayeth I'll stay.
I will be faithful forever, if only You'll say I May.

Yes I will be Faithful Forever, If Only You'll Say I May!

Subject: SB: The Sinking by Micca
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:49 AM

The Sinking by Micca (verse 4 by Dave the ancient mariner)
 (Tune:  Fiddler's Green) 
 

I went on a package to Thailand last year 
To visit the night-spots and try the Thai beer 
I heard all my comrades after nights on the booze 
Complaining out loud as they made for the loos 

Chorus:
I'm going to whoop my cookies 
I'm going to spew my ring 
The turmoil intestinal's 
Worse than the Maelstrom 
And there's no soft tissue at the Holiday Inn 

It wasn't the whiskey it wasn't the gin 
It wasn't the ice cubes that floated within 
It was not Delhi belly or the plague that's bubonic 
We all went down with the Thai tonic.

Chorus

I don't want a gin with ice and a slice 
The memories it brings back are not very nice 
I spent half my hols in the bog on my own  
and flew back to Gatwick seated on the throne 

Chorus

I've just had another, followed through from a fart 
I felt like I shit out a Donkey and cart 
They said don't drink the water my God its not true 
Don't eat or drink anything's what you should do 

Chorus

I'll never go back to South Asia again 
I left half my insides afloat in a klong 
The weather is lovely the temples are free 
But sinking Thai tonic is too much for me

Subject: SB: Singing Voices by Matthew Edwards
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:47 AM

Singing Voices by Matthew Edwards
(For An Croenan)

Matthew's Comments:  I've got a new song which I sang at the Manchester Mudcat Meet on Saturday.  Its called "Singing Voices", and it celebrates the pleasure that singing bestows, and the power that there is in song to overcome troubles, and find contentment and happiness. You may recognise it as an "improved", and more generalised version of my song for the Stony Stratford Gathering.  I've dedicated it to my singing teacher in Liverpool who has helped me discover some more of the joy that there is in singing.


Let me rise up in the morning to the murmuring of voices,
That fills the room with music, to greet the dawning day.
And the air all round about me is trembling with sweet noises,
Whose gentle notes float in air to drive my fears away.

Chorus:
How I love to spend my days among the sounds of voices singing
In joyful melodies that flood the fresh sweet air.
From the earth up to the heavens happy harmonies are ringing,
And the sound of singing voices will free my heart from care.

Let the hours of my days measure time to notes in rhythm,
And I'll count myself so happy as I sing, and dance, and play.
Where the sounds of voices lead me, I shall surely follow with them,
Guided by the melody, and never go astray.

Oh! Let me spend my evening among pleasant voices dwelling,
Until the music's over, and the last note fades away.
In the failing light, my mind's ear will still hear a chorus swelling,
Forth in a joyful burden to bless the dying day.

Matthew Edwards 26 November 2001

Subject: SB: Singing Auld Lang Syne by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:45 AM

Singing Auld Lang Syne by Amergin

I stagger down the dampened street
And feel the passing time.
The moon shines softly through the clouds,
Singing auld lang syne.

In the shadows, I gently lurch,
As my heart weeps and pines,
For my love holds onto another man
Singing auld lang syne.

So here's a drink to the dying year,
I drink to the coming time;
And here's a drink to lover's all,
For the sake of auld lang syne.

Now the seasons pass across the earth,
And the trees so lightly whine
And I hear the waves quietly roar,
Singing auld lang syne

So into the mists I walk alone,
Where the sidhe laugh and dine,
I Slowly raise my voice to the sky,
For the sake of auld lang syne…...

So here's a drink to the dying year,
I drink to the coming time;
And here's a drink to lover's all,
For the sake of auld lang syne.

© Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Silent Voices by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:43 AM

Silent Voices by Amergin
(Tune:  Star of the County Down) (originally posted in this thread)

Amergin's Comments:  This recent talk of departing loved ones has got me to thinking about the ones that I have lost . . . . My great aunts and uncles and friends . . . . It got me to thinking about all the stories that were never recorded.  About all of the important facts of our histories that are lost forever.  It got me to thinking of the voices I will never hear again . . . the laughter . . . the joking . . . I mentioned in another thread that this had the makings of a song or something . . . . Hold on to your memories, for they are the greatest gifts bestowed upon us by those who have gone before . . . and if you have the chance record the stories of your elders or your own . . . . Blessed be.

In the woods one night, round a fire bright
Were my loved ones, dead and gone,
I stood and stared in the frosty air,
And the moon was pale and drawn;
Oh, they looked at me and smiled at me
And they beckoned me to a chair,
But I stood amazed, in the glowing blaze
And I thought, "Was I really there?"

CHORUS:
Oh, their voices rang and the coyotes sang,
And the laughter began to roar.
Round the crackling might of the fire bright
Were the voices I shall hear no more.

"Sit down" they said and I shook my head
To clear the visions of my dream,
But the forms they stayed so I obeyed,
And their eyes began to gleam
They began to sing and the woods to ring,
Twas a song that I heard before,
Oh, in the fiery heat they sounded sweet
The voices I shall hear no more

(Chorus)

The coyotes wailed as they told their tales
Of the life upon the range;
I looked around as the flames died down
And the skies began to change.
The mists arose and I watched them go
And my heart grew pale with woe,
With a tearful cry I bade goodbye
To the voices I'll hear no more.

(Chorus)

Now among the trees in the wintry breeze
On the paths I walk alone
With great delight I found where the fire bright
Burned red among the stones.
Amidst the storm the coals were warm
From the craic of the night before,
I smiled my friend for in the wind
Whispered the voices I'll hear no more.

© Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Silently, Silently by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:39 AM

Silently, Silently by MMario


MMario's Comments:  This is a cooperative effort. First, thanks to LEJ and bbc who made me feel comfortable
enough to try posting original lyrics to the MudCat Tavern thread.

Silently, silently, see the leaves falling
Overhead as they fly, hear the geese calling
Summer is past, and the warmth ebbs away
As light leaves the sky, at the end of the day

Remember the days when the sun shone so brightly
Merry the songs, and the dancers stepp'd lightly
Laughter rang out, always fresh, always new
And each way we'd glance there were comrades so true

Silently Silently, see the leaves falling
High overhead, now hear the geese calling
The circle must turn, we must all travel on
Night it must come before we greet the dawn

Old friends and new friends, we gather this evening
To say our farewells for we soon shall be leaving
Raise up a toast as we all bid "Adieu"
For when we next meet, then shall warmth rise anew

Gently and Quietly, let the leaves fall now
Plaintive and distant, the wild geese call now
Winter must come, but so shall the spring
With the warmth and the joy that true friendship brings.
*

*[repeat first quatrain]

Thanks to jeri - who not only liked them but took a .wav file and created an ABC from it.
[yes, I know about MediaRing. I cannot use it from where I am]

T:Silently, Silently M:2/2 L:1/8 Q:70 C:Leo Pola K:D||DFA GEC D D>|A,D =C3D2z |DFA GEC D D>|A,D =C3D2z | DFA GEC D2| D D A,D =C3 D| D A,D =C3 A,/2A,/2=C |D> C Which I then processed through NoteWorthy composer and back through Mid2txt to get the following. Enjoy!

MIDI file: silently.mid

Timebase: 192

ABC format:

T:SILENTLY, Silently
M:3/4
Q:1/4=120
K:D
D2=F2A2|G2E2C2|D4A,2|D2=C4|D6|D2=F2A2|G2E2C2|D4A,2|D2=C4|D6|D2=F2A2|G2E2C2|D4A,2|D2=C4|D2D2A,2|D2=C4|A,2A,2A,2|D2C2D2|-D7/4||

Subject: SB: Silence!! by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:35 AM

Silence!! by Amergin

Silence!! The wind whispers in the fog
Silence!! Bays out the old crying dog
Silence!! The horn blares on the river
Silence!! The trees sing with a quiver

Silence, silence, silence
And listen to the song I must tell to you
Listen to the breeze pregnant with the dew
Listen to the ships sliding upon the cold water
Listen to the forests bemoaning the slaughter
Listen to the heart breaking with each lonesome beat
Listen to the teardrops splatter the empty street
Listen to the music of the bean sidhe's wail
And you will see the sorrow in the broken tale

Close your eyes and see.....
Look upon the man who sits alone in a crowded room
Look upon the woman who laughs in the smoky gloom
Look upon the children who bear no hope in their eyes
Look upon the prisoners secure in their own demise
Look upon the upon the houses that guard the rich
Look upon the beggar huddled closely in the ditch
Look upon the strikers bearing signs "We will prevail"
And you will feel the sorrow in the broken tale

Reach out your hands and feel...
Now feel the holy despair of the drunkard's tomb
Now feel the terror of the babe evicted from the womb
Now feel the sap pulsing 'neath the bark of the trees
Now feel the devastation of the infernal disease
Now feel the ancient cold breath of the wintry moon
Now feel the pounding feet of the bloodstained platoon
Now feel the vibrating saws ring across the vale
And you will speak the sorrow in the broken tale

Speak!! The wind whispers in the fog
Speak!! Bays out the old crying dog
Speak!! The horn blares on the river
Speak!! The trees sing with a quiver

Speak of the songs of the dying whales
Speak of the sorrow in our broken tales

© Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Shopping Cart Wrangler by Reggie Miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:32 AM

Shopping Cart Wrangler by Reggie Miles
(Tune: Ghost Riders In The Sky)

Reggie's Comments:  I didn't know if this song is technically a parody, or just insanity.  You choose.  It does, however, fill an important void in today's fast paced, sound and video bite oriented culture.  This brief saga tells about a real, honest to goodness folk hero who proudly steps forth from the canvas of modern American culture to be counted.  It is just one of the stories about untold numbers of Americans who relentlessly toil away their lives at thankless, low paying jobs.

I'm up at dawn, and work all day till the wee hours of the night.
My polyester uniform, it just don't fit me right.
And they don't allow me to take tips for the service I provide.
I work for minimum wage, with poverty by my side.

Yippee-yi-yah yippee-yi-oh-oh-oh-oh!
I'm a shopping cart wrangler, 16 years old.

In the drivin' rain or the blazin' sun or the freezin' hail or snow
When the boss says, "Go and git them strays." It's out the door I go.
I round 'em up and corral them with all the rest inside.
I'm a shopping cart wrangler, got my price gun by my side.

Yippee-yi-yo yippee-yi-ya-a-a-a!
I'm a shopping cart wrangler, is my cry!

Dodgin' trucks and automobiles over huge speed bumps and curbs.
And SUVs full of groceries, on their way back to the burbs.
Through potholes the size of Texas and puddles as big as lakes,
I drive my chatterin' herd homeward.
Then I take a coffee break.

Yippee-yi-ya yippee-yi-oh-o-o-o!
I'm a shopping cart wrangler, till I die

Copyright ©2002 by Reggie Miles

Subject: SB: Shades Of Memory by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:29 AM

Shades Of Memory by Amergin

In silence she walks across the floor
Naked, softly padding towards me
Smiling with her gleaming eyes
Arms open in the siren's decree 

She bends down to squash her lips
Pressed against my bearded face
My head starts to spin and flip
Succumbing to her female grace 

I look up into her shining eyes
Her smile stretches up her cheeks
Her blushing face glows in the sun
As the rays kiss the mountain peaks 

She lays down her body beside me
Snuggles her head close by my ear
Whispering to me with the wind
Body shaking in her glistening tears 

I listen to the music of her voice
As her soft breathing sings to me
I arise from my slumber to find
She was but shades of my memory

Subject: SB: The Seeds of More by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:28 AM

The Seeds of More by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  This song was written about 5 years ago when I realised that the 1st World War was started with a bullet from a Serbian Nationalist's gun and that the settlement of that conflict led directly to the cause of the 2nd World War, the settlement of which, led directly to the present conflicts, in what was then called Yugoslavia. It looked possible to me then and it does so again today, that a 3rd World War could be the result. The song is called the Seeds Of More and I would like to give you all the opportunity to sing it with me, loudly.

The tune is a very simple one.

EEFGEDCDC
EEFGEDCD
EEFGEDCDC
EFEDCBDC

The Seeds Of More

All around the tears were falling
As they waved young men goodbye
For brave, they hear their country calling
For the cause prepared to die

Soon, they'll return home to 'Blighty'
For they're sure to turn the tide
With the help of God almighty
Who they're told is on their side

No place for the faint hearted
Off to the war to end all wars
But nothing's solved, when wars are started
They only sow the seeds of more

Back to a home that's fit for heroes
Never to go to war again
But for the ruling families, in their death throes
The world will never be the same

For the Empire and it's dominions
For it's the whole world they're to save
But was it worth the lives of millions
To ensure Britannia, rules the waves?

No place for the faint hearted
Off to the war to end all wars
But nothing's solved, when wars are started
They only sow the seeds of more

Those that kept the home fires burning
Watch as dreams all fall to dust
But the lesson's there for learning
Take care where, you place your trust

A trigger pulled in Sarajevo
Loaded at the treaty of Versailles
Now fires another salvo
Do another fifty million die?

No place for the faint hearted
Off to the war to end all wars
But nothing's solved, when wars are started
They only sow the seeds of more

Roger Gall 1994

Subject: SB: The Schmielzo Polka by Praise
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:26 AM

The Schmielzo Polka by Praise

Tonight's the night, the band is here--
Come to the Schmielzo Polka!
Come as you are, no need to fear,
It's just the Schmielzo Polka.
From miles around, you'll see, they'll come,
The old and young to frolic.
So grab your shoes and come on down,
And do the Schmielzo Polka!

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

Look over there, it's Mr. Brown,
He loves the Schmielzo Polka.
His Sansabelts are fallin' down
But he's doin' the Schmielzo Polka.
His partner now is Edith Lee;
Have you seen her brand new dentures?
Hike up your skirt and join them as
They do the Schmielzo Polka.

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

There's Cindy Ann and Casey Pugg,
They always Schmielzo Polka.
She's lost a leg, he wears a rug
But they do the Schmielzo Polka.
It isn't hard to learn this dance
As Cindy Ann can show you.
Just shake a leg, give this a chance
Hey it's just the Schmielzo Polka.

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

[break/bridge thingie with fanfare:
Hike up your skirt!
Ladies, do the Schmielzo Polka.
No one gets hurt!
Now it's just the Schmielzo Polka.
Just shake a leg!
You can do the Schmielzo Polka.
Don't make us beg
You to do the Schmielzo Polka!]

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

Is that the Rev'rend Eustace Bayre?
He knows the Schmielzo Polka!
Look, half his church is over there,
They love the Schmielzo Polka.
We heard one Sunday after church,
At coffee hour he taught them.
Now he won't have to sneak away
Just to dance the Schmielzo Polka!

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

Now all of you with two left feet
Must dance the Schmielzo Polka.
Step on some toes but keep the beat
You've got the Schmielzo Polka.
There are no rules, you won't be judged--
We never give out ribbons!
It's good old fashioned family fun,
As we dance the Schmielzo Polka.

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

We promise we won't laugh at you
Come do the Schmielzo Polka.
Now it's the only thing to do—
To dance the Schmielzo Polka.
Just look at all the rest of us,
We'd win no prizes either!
So have no fear, the time has come,
To join the Schmielzo Polka.

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

[break/bridge thingie with fanfare:
Don't sneak away,
Proudly dance the Schmielzo Polka.
Left feet are best,
When you do the Schmielzo Polka.
Just family fun,
And it's called the Schmielzo Polka.
Your time has come,
Time to dance the Schmielzo Polka.]

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

Well now that everyone has danced,
Has danced the Schmielzo Polka.
It's time to pack it in and go
Till tomorrow's Schmielzo Polka.
But some of us have learned a trick,
I'll tell you all about it,
It's possible to dance through life—
It's just a Schmielzo Polka.

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

Yes, it's the truth I tell no lie--
Life is the Schmielzo Polka.
No need to fuss or carry on,
Just dance the Schmielzo Polka.
For everyone you meet is merely
Waiting for the music.
And once it starts they'll dance with you.
All dance the Schmielzo Polka!

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah! Deeda deedle eedle dee,
deeda doodle eedle dee Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

[break/bridge thingie with fanfare:
We know a trick,
And it's called the Schmielzo Polka.
Start dancing quick,
Always dance the Schmielzo Polka.
Don't fuss or fret,
Make 'em dance the Schmielzo Polka.
They'll do it yet-
And it's all a Schmielzo Polka.]

[instruments: Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee,
Doo duh dee doo dee dah!
Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee,
Doo duh dee doo dee dah!
Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

[fading]….Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee,
Doo duh dee doo dee dah!
Deeda deedle eedle dee, deeda doodle eedle dee
Doo duh dee doo dee dah!]

Subject: SB: Say Goodbye by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:24 AM

Say Goodbye by Mbo (Words & Music)


Say goodbye
Tomorrow you'll be far away
I hope you know just how much
We enjoyed your stay

Say goodbye
It's so bad to see you go
We were such friends, we had some fun
I won't be the same without you

Chorus:
We were young, the world was ours
And we were on our way
The days pass by, oh how time flies
Till none of us remain

Say goodbye
It's been such a crazy ride
But don't give up the dreams you had
Don't cast them to the side

For you know
This was just a stepping stone
You're moving up, up in life
The life you call your own

But don't forget when
Chorus

Say goodbye
Now it's time to depart
Don't be sad, please don't cry
Don't trouble your heart

Say goodbye
We must now say Godspeed
Don't look back, don't look back
Just follow your heart's lead

Chorus

Matthew Richards (2000)

Subject: SB: Say A Prayer For Dirty (MichaelAnthony)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 19 Nov 10 - 12:22 AM

Say A Prayer For Dirty submitted by MichaelAnthony

MichaelAnthony's Comments:  I live near an area of Atlanta called L5P. You wouldn't believe the stuff crazed people give you when you give them some change.  This was all on paper, no tune for it.  I was walking up to the gas station to get some cigarettes when I made the mistake of making eye contact with him, and then I had no choice but to deal with him.  I gave him exactly enough money, including tax, to buy a 22-ounce beer.  I decided to have one myself to deal with what I had in my hands.  Personally, I'm not through figuring out the risks of association with this subject matter. But Dirty doesn't seem to have anything to lose, so I posted it.

Wel I live here in Georgy the year is 2000
An they call me Dirty or Crazy, an I beg for my housein
Twaz 4 years ago those olympics ride thro here
And some people they dont anser to no one did these things I fear

Now I stay in Atlantah and thats where it happend
It waz ninehunert ninteensix and I woodve been there
Maybe been killed as I stud there
The bombs berstine in the air at the Olympick Park
but my freind he too drunk we went to his home

Now we didnt watch the television but I was ichin for an eskape
Been pondring too much about the plane been shot down
And hunerts of people saw the missils they lookd like pink fire works
And the plane it exploded it warrant no coincidence
And hunerts of people killed body piaeces fell in to the ocean
I was trubbled that night and hopin for some ansers
But some people dont anser to know one wont listen to 200 diffrent witneses about missils.
An today.

An the next morning we wached the television had some coccola an cigars
Now I can tell when a man is lyin but that man Jewell warrant lyin
But the paper said he done it put the bomb in that bag
An some people don't answer to no one who trick him into signing away his rites
Im really troubled why they dont anser to no one.
An today I get remindid case of that Ho Ly chinaman is Jewell all agein
Cause some people dont anser to no one do politics.

Now that Rudolf he wicked and is sure going to hell if he bomb the clinics
But any 1 with any commen sense know he no motive to bomb those olympicks
So who did it some people dont anser to no one just like the people on that plane dont no more.
An two people at the park no more.

Now at that very time twaz fours years ago
That wanted new legeslasen to get throu the congress conserning explozons
Now Im realle troubled an some people don't anser to no one dont ansir to no one.

An if you were to come at me and have me commuted
Or arrested for trees or rail road me bad
Im Dirty and Im a coward and dont know nothin
I beg for my housein an pay by makin up the beds
I'L take a drink if its offerd to quit down my restlesnes

So say a prayer for Dirty and to give me back my sanite.
An for the people they dont anser to no one.
Cept if theres a god but Im not figurin on a god right now
Im still yung an still hav my memory.
And you could remembra and 25 years on down we can find out what is provd true.
But 25 years on down some people still dont anwer to no one cause evrybody craze.

So say a prayer for Dirty an to give me back my sanite
Cause Im Dirty and Im a coward and dont know nothin
I beg for my housin and pay by makin up the beds
I'L take a drink if its offerd to quit down my restlesnes.

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:51 AM

Guess I'd better post another space-filler message in case I missed one....

Subject: SB: Saviour Of The Land by Mrs. Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:50 AM

Saviour Of The Land by Mrs. Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  Not one of my songs but another fine song from Mrs. Shambles. She says, "It was written about the back of the head of a complete stranger who was driving the car in front of me one morning!" You have been warned.


She has heard that he's returning home
To take the reins once more
The freedom that he fought for
Should have opened her some doors
Through the fear, she understands his shunning of her kiss
But the man that she is shackled to
She would dearly like to miss

Coming home from war, he is a hero
Honoured as a saviour of the land
Knowing only duty to the service
And men at his command

She'd offered him a sanctuary
But a prison, it's become
The chains are bound so tightly
She's not free enough to run
She sees the medals on his chest
That he gained for valiant deeds
Will he never see the ones at home
Are the ones with greatest needs

Coming home from war, he is a hero
Honoured as a saviour of the land
Knowing only duty to the service
And men at his command

She applies the same old make-up
To cover her new bruise
The children sit so quietly
Too afraid to move
He plays domestic warfare
As he sees as his birthright
But the ones who loved him dearly
Have their nightmares through the night

She does not see the hero that they speak of
Not for her the saviour of the land
Seeing only painful days before her
Living with a man who must command

Katrina Gall 1996.

Subject: SB: Running Waters by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:49 AM

Running Waters by Amos

Amos' Comments:  This song is played in a cascading, tumbling series of chords in double-D tuning.

The rivers in the heart's own time drive deep
Beside the frozen barricades
And the careful guards cannot imagine words
To the songs
Of running waters

The sergeants on patrol have certain airs
Preventing passage in defense
Their keenest eyes will never see the fires
That warm the depths
Of running waters

Chorus:
Rolling in the moment,
Living in the freedom
Of driving to the ocean and its distant calling bell;
Deeper than the hardest hurt that ever the heart can know
Running waters
Sooner or later
Running waters always tell.

Though the fallen moon has left a frosted night
The streets made careful in their pain
It is distant meadows that have sent the sunfire
Forming deep songs
In running waters

The shades of mother's warning dim the light
Keeping the safety seeming whoie
Cool hearts in safer corners cry for fires
That warm the depths
Of running waters

Chorus:
Rolling in the moment,
Living in the freedom
Of driving to the ocean and its distant calling bell;
Deeper than the hardest hurt the heart can know
Running waters
Sooner or later
Running waters always tell

Copyright ©2002 by Amos Jessup

Subject: SB: Run With Me by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:47 AM

Run With Me by Amergin

They lie in the grass
Her head upon his chest
Gazing up at the pink sky
As the sun drifts west
His hand runs through
Strands of her blonde hair
He kisses the top of her head
Feeling the summer heat
Of the sun's dying glare 

Chorus:
He whispers softly in her ear
As we lie together in the lea
My heart is content,
My love,
Why don't you run with me? 

She turns down her head
Lips puckered to kiss his chin
He kisses back, and stares at her
Revealing a crooked grin
He runs his hand down her side
Feeling the curves of her waist
She reaches over to finger
His hand, so gently placed 

Chorus: 
He squeezes her to his body
Feeling her heat in her breath
They talk and joke and laugh
The world as quiet as the death
She looks up at him smiling
Glistening with summer dew
He looks down and studies her eyes
The colors of green, brown, and blue 

Chorus:
She whispers softly in his ear
"Across the west I will pursue
The makings of my heart, my dear,
So I will run with you" 

Subject: SB: Rough Diamond by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:46 AM

Rough Diamond by The Shambles


I need to learn
You, teach me how to earn
Try to kill the flame inside
That needs to burn

I need to run
Not to walk in line
Take hold of this rough diamond
And make it shine

Not to pass some test
But to be my best
To be as good as I can be
And not step on the rest

You teach me the how
But not the why
You teach me how to crawl
When I've wings to fly

Trample all the new growth in the forest
To get some to the top of the tree
You let me wear this badge of failure
When it's you that's failing me

I may not be wise
But you may be surprised
If you could see the world
Through my eyes

Don't take, the few
Teach me too
Then you can learn from me
As I learn from you

Teach me how to grieve
How to believe
How to find a lover
And how to leave

How to share
How to care
Show me wild horizons
And take me there

Roger Gall 1996.

Subject: SB: Rosie Again by KingBrilliant
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:45 AM

Rosie Again by KingBrilliant
(The tune should be sort of swingy & waltzy -- or whatever fits)

KingBrilliant's Comments: This song took its starting point from an old whore who used to frequent one of the town pubs about twenty years ago. It was making me think about what it might be like to be an old tart who's looks had gone. She comes out as a bit of a game old bird in the song anyway. The chorus was written a while ago & has a bit of pathos whereas the verses are a bit of a laugh with the joke on the sailor boy. It's a mismatch, but that's just the way it came out (so I'll call it contrast) & hopefully it works OK.  

She's a blowsy old whore from the Old Boar's Head 
She's used up and dried up and tired she said
But still she sits with her pint
Hoping one night 
In a generous light 
Some young man will sit by her side 
And it'll be Rosie again, Rosie again, 
Rosie again, once more 

A tipsy young sailor fresh in from the boat 
With money to burn and a thirst in his throat 
Was too whiskey'd to see and too horny to care 
What a wreck he would raise if he sat in that chair 
He jumped in with a will for to sink or to swim 
She favoured the boy with a lecherous grin 
Old Rosie was raising the rigging with him 

She's a blowsy old whore from the Old Boar's Head 
She's used up and dried up and tired she said 
But still she sits with her pint 
Hoping one night 
In a generous light 
Some man young will sit by her side 
And it'll be Rosie again, Rosie again, 
Rosie again, once more 

Now the wind it blew cool and the wind it blew warm 
Rose and her sailor boy kicked up a storm 
Dancing her round with lust in his heart 
The sailor boy courted the filthy the old tart 
They sailed off away for to finish the game 
We all watched them go & we heard when he came 
Old Rosie was raising the rigging again 

She's a blowsy old whore from the Old Boar's Head 
She's used up and dried up and tired she said 
But still she sits with her pint 
Hoping one night 
In a generous light 
Some young man will sit by her side 
And it'll be Rosie again, Rosie again, 
Rosie again, once more.

© Kristin King (2001)

Subject: SB: Rosa, Oh, Rosa by Bev and Jerry
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:42 AM

(This song was placed in a thread entitled 'Rosa Parks')

Rosa, Oh, Rosa by Bev and Jerry

Bev and Jerry's Comments:  We present folk music programs in schools and one of our programs is entitled "Afro-American History". We needed a song about Rosa Parks but we couldn't find one we liked so we wrote this one. It is based on something she said which was that she would not stand up to give a white person her seat but that she would stand up for justice.

No I won't stand up I'm tired 
All day long I stood on my feet
I earn my living just like you
I don't have to give up my seat

Chorus:
No I won't stand up, I'm tired
No I won't stand up, I'm not gonna do it 
No I won't stand up, I'm tired 
No I won't stand up, that's all there is to it 

No I won't stand up, I'm tired 
Don't like you treating me this way 
Jim Crow is riding on this bus 
And the time has come to disobey

No I won't stand up, I'm tired 
Oppression is at every hand 
Disgrace and shame are everywhere 
See if you can make me stand

But I will stand up for justice 
I'll stand against all your attacks 
And I will stand and shout the truth 
And I'll stand up for the rights of blacks

Final Chorus:

Yes I will stand up, I'm tired 
Yes I will stand up, I am not gonna do it 
Yes I will stand up, I'm tired 
Yes I will stand up, that's all there is to it

Subject: SB: Roll Down To It by Praise
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:41 AM

Roll Down To It by Praise

Praise's Comments:   For Kayla, and all the Mudcat friends I grew closer to in the last week, and you all know who you are!   I have a new concept today coming out in the start of a song.  I was up on the sunny glory mountain all weekend, and here's Monday with a valley full of work.  So I did some work, then went back up to check out the mountains and clouds . . . and came back to work.  The tune and chorus popped into my head, the rest of the words are from how it's been all the last week with those I love.  I'm doing it in church first chance I get.  Anyone is welcome to add verses, you know how spirituals can be as long as an all day car trip among friends.  Just respect the basic concepts in it please or they won't make in into my word processor!

Strolling Bluesy Chorus:

Ya gotta roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it, from
High! on the mountain of love.
YEE HAHH!

Blues/testify Verse:

Well sometimes we know know who we really are,
When we're up-- where the sun is clear.
Sometimes we think it will all be like that,
And then sometimes, we're down with the fear.
But I've got a new way to make it all work,
And honey, right in this valley here-
You gotta just ROLL down to it, and remember that Jesus is near!

Ya gotta roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it, from
High! on the mountain of love.
YEE HAHH!

You see He's glad to come down and show you the way,
All you have to do is ask.
Are you still tryin' to crawl UP to the valley of life?
Now darlin' that is a much harder task!
You see Jesus is up there, but down He will come,
And put all-new wine in your flask.
When old super-test Jesus gets deep inside you--
He peels you right outta your mask!

Ya gotta roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it, from
High! on the mountain of love.
YEE HAHH!

No longer I'll crawl, one valley to the next,
I'll start up on the slope to His way.
And I'll roll on down to whatever He asks me
To do for Him each brand new day.
And as I roll on down, wrapped in His arms,
Honey! I'm headed your way!
So baby roll right down with me,
And then you will learn to say...

Ya gotta roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it, from
High! on the mountain of love.
YEE HAHH!
Ya gotta roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it (Roll down to it),
Roll down to it,
from...
Hi-ai-yi-igh!...
On the mountain...
You know I'm up here on this mountain!...
On this ole mountain, baby, of luh-uh-uh-oh-love... yea-eh-eah! 

Subject: SB: The Road Goes Ever On (Tolkien), tune by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:40 AM

THE ROAD GOES EVER ON
Poem J.R.R. Tolkien

The road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began
Now far ahead the road has gone
And I must follow, if I can
Pursuing it with eager feet
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet
And wither then? I cannot say
Wither then--I cannot say

Roads go ever on and on
Over rock and under tree
By caves where never sun has shone
By streams that never find the sea
Over snow by winter sown
And through the merry flowers of June
Over grass and over stone
And under mountains in the moon
Under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever on and on
Under cloud and under star
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have know
Trees and hills they long have know.

The road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began
Now far ahead the road has gone
Let others follow it who can!
Let them a journey new begin
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn toward the lighten inn
My evening rest and sleep to meet
Evening rest and sleep to meet.


--Mbo

---

Click to play

Subject: SB: The Road by skarpi
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:37 AM

The Road by skarpi

skarpi's Comments:  "The road" is the road of life, and this is my thinking of the life; it came today when I was wondering about it.  We walk around the road of life; either we go straight or we get on side road and get lost in some problems that get us along with the side roads.  And in the end, we try to build up a new one; most of the people.

The road it's long and narrow,
the road it's far away.
I saw people walking through,
with their children and you.
Now the road it's no longer there
now the road it's no longer there.

The road had its story,
and great people walked there by,
it was bound for its glory
and I am sorry I didn't try.
For it's no longer there
for it's no longer there.

I will try to build another,
and it will have to be a little long.
We will have to stand together,
and we'll all sing this song.
Now the road it will be there
now the road it will be there.

Subject: SB: Rise Up Screaming by Barry Finn
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:35 AM

Rise Up Screaming by Barry Finn
Tune: Jack In The Green by Martin Graebe

A pub session or a party is a very strange thing
They're all out of fashion no more do they sing
For they read from a book or copy a tape
They imitate sounds no mortal should make

There's no sound in the kitchen, no sound in the hall
There's a murderous screech that plays off the walls
Where is the music, where are the songs
In the mouths of monsters where no sound belongs

Dead pan they look as they sing in your face
They'll spit out the words and the tunes they'll disgrace
A song will be beat o'r and over to death 
And in a round robin they'll resurrect it again

No more will be heard a version that's lost
Or a variant that's rare or two songs were crossed
The borrowing or sharing of a tune or a song
Will be according to the Bible all else will be wrong

And now for the future , it's bleak for the song
No young mortal will dare to carry it on
They'll be none around who without books can sing
Or swap without tapes or rise up singing 

Copyright Barry Finn 1996

Subject: SB: Reply To Lilac Acres by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:32 AM

Reply To Lilac Acres by MMario

MMario's Comments:  Listening to 'A Letter from Lilac Acres' (Jed Marum) I kept thinking that it needed a reply from Louisa's spouse- and the more times I have heard it, the more I felt the need. Tho' the deed wasn't done in an attempt at flattery, it is definitely imitative, downright plageristic in many ways. This is the text I came up with - using Jed's tune and the same format:


My Darling Louisa, I'm on my way home
I should be beside you, 'fore the corn is full grown
May God speed my journey and hasten the day,
That embrace you once more, I finally may.

For the sights I have seen, and the deeds I have done,
Are not tales of glory to regale our young sons;
May they grow to manhood, through the years live their lives
Not knowing of battle, war, bloodshed and strife

And I beg the Lord over, and over again
to speed me home safely to thee
For so many have fallen, so many good men
And to hold you again is my only dream

Now I'm counting the moments, It can't be too soon
signed, your Loving Robert, on this first day of June

May God guide you and guard you, 'till I hold you again.

Subject: SB: Red Pine's Yellow Blues by Willie-O
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:30 AM

Red Pine's Yellow Blues by Willie-O

Willie-O's Comments;  Who was it said "there are more species of pine under the sun than you could ever dream of..."   Count 'em, nine species of pine.   In one verse.   Willow weep for me.   I should warn you all that I'm going to start a fire under some more sap this afternoon... for I am, Willie-O.

I ent pining away fir yew, baby,
But I'd spruce myself up like a Colorado Blue
I'm nut aspen to be poplar,
Willow warn me where the coppices are
I wooden sitka dog on yew... 

On the Ponderosa pining for a chance to loblolly 
Got a stand of lodgepole baby you ain't never seen the like
I wooden pitch yew out, Norfolk around on yew
Red n Jack think I'm southern yellow, but I'm an eastern white guy too.

Subject: SB: Ranzo, Benbow by Schantieman
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:29 AM

Ranzo, Benbow by Schantieman
(Tune: Dido, Bendigo (trad.); New words by Steve Freedman circa 1987)

Schantieman's Comments:  This was written one night whilst attempting to sleep in the car at Whitby FF.  There really was a pub called (something like) the Duke of Wellington in Whitby.  The age of the song can be deduced from its reference to 'opening time', a concept now lost in the mists of history.

As I was a-walking one fine summer's evening
I overheard some folkies all singing.
There were twenty-two of them in the Duke of Wellington
So early, just as the pubs were opening

Chorus:
And they sang Ranzo, Benbow, Drop of Nelson's Blood-oh
Loud enough to set the rafters ringing
Then they sang Shoals of Herring, On a Monday Morning.
These were the songs that they were singing.

Well, the first song being long, and only just beginning
I made straightway to the toi – let.
As I was coming out, I heard somebody shout,
"We haven't heard you sing us all a song yet!"

So I sang . . .

Now the next song being loud, and one with a chorus,
I joined in and we sang it all together.
Then we all sang Twanky Dillow and the Banks of the Green Willow,
And then we sang about the blooming heather!

Then we sang . . .

Now the evening, it drew on, and the clock reached eleven,
The landlord rang the bell and shouted, "Time!"
So we all said, "Half past ten" and began to sing again –
The harmonies we sang were oh – so fine.

And we sang . . .

Repeat chorus ad nauseam.

Copyright ©2002 S J Freedman (unless I can claim it earlier. I've certainly been singing it for years!)

Subject: SB: Rains Of April Mournful Song by MichaelAnthony
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:27 AM

Rains Of April Mournful Song by MichaelAnthony

MichaelAnthony's Comments:  I was listening to some recorded guitar playing I had done when I had visited my brother, heard a melody in there and then the lyrics came and by the evening the song was done!  It was one of those experiences where everything falls together kind of magically.  It seemed like an old folk tune...a style I don't usually write in...and I searched and found the Mudcat.

The rains of April, cold and long
Cried and wailed this mournful song:
The dead are where the dead belong
The dead you love cannot come home.

Then the storms of summer, bold and strong
Lashed at me with fiery tongue:
You hold your heart just like a dog
Who lay beside his master's plot.

"The perished are not dead," said I
With flowers and tombstones they survive
I've photographs above my bed
The songs of the fiddler are in my head
I burned her voice to gramophone
Though they're gone I say I'm not alone.

But the storms of summer called my lie
And told it to the Autumn sky
The August night did sing that song:
The dead you love cannot come home.

This pen is awkward in my old hand
Those of my kin now understand:
The rains of April cried a song:
The dead are where the dead belong

Yes the rains of April wailed the song
And learned it to the summer storm
Who told it to the autumn sky
The night of August, same refrain
I'll be no fool to hear the winter sing the same.

That bridge we built o'er Miner's Creek
That bridge today is old and weak
I pray my body not ye find
But just the winter's mournful siren:

The dead are where the dead belong
The dead you love cannot come home.

Subject: SB: The Rainbow Promise by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:23 AM

The Rainbow Promise by MMario

When all the world was water, and nowhere was dry land
God made us a promise, and sealed it by His hand.
An arc of light across the sky, in multi-coloured hue
A covenant, forever, He made to me and you

Chorus:
Remember the Rainbow promise, the skies aren't always grey
But it's up to us to cherish, the world we have today

When the footsteps in the sand are marchin' single file
When problems hover 'round us, and nothin' seems worthwhile
When it seems if all our dreams are nightmares of our mind
Reach out and take the comfort, left for us to find

Chorus

There'll always be another dawn, the rain will always end
And if we only will believe, we'll always have a friend
Remember we are not alone, no matter how it seems
But we must choose the way to go, not drift along life's stream

Chorus 

Subject: SB: Radio Song by Spider Tom
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:22 AM

Radio Song by Spider Tom

Mudcat radio, there you go, 
You'll grow to love it, don't ya' know, 
Just tune in, to the show.
Listen through the rain and snow.

Mudcat, Mudcats, where it's at 
Riding high, never flat, 
And it will never scare your kat. 
Keeps you sitting where you're sat.

Mudcat Radio, I'm alert, 
Seen 'em sitting, Max and Bert, 
Playing songs, and mixing dirt. 
The camera, was feeling hurt.

Mudcat Radio, speed and haste, 
Make my world, a smaller place, 
Nothing so good goes to waste. 
Tell me how to cut and paste.

Subject: SB: Rachel Corrie by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:20 AM

Rachel Corrie by McGrath of Harlow
(soundfile of song available here)

McGrath's Comments:  March 17th 2003 -- Here's a song about Rachel Corrie, aged 23, killed on 16th March 2003 when she was crushed by an Israeli amtu bulldozer as she stood in its path as it was advancing to demolish a Palestinian house in Gaza.  Here is a link to a thread about it on the Mudcat, which contains links to the story, and to moving emails whuch she had written to her family on the West Coast of America only a few days before.

Well I know her name was Rachel, and they say that she was shy,
And they say she's got a family to mourn,
And they live out on the West Coast, that's half a world away,
Only twenty three - she'd hardly yet been born,
But she was standing in the way of the war
Standing in the way of the war.
Standing in the path of the monster once again.
Trying to find some way to stop the killing and the pain
Standing in the way of the war.

Standing in the way of the hatred rolling down,
Standing up with nothing in her hands,
All the way from Washington to the Gaza strip she came,
And she died there with that nothing in her hands.
She was standing in the way of the war
Standing in the way of the war.
Standing in the path of the monster once again.
Trying to find some way to stop the killing and the pain
Standing in the way of the war.

Standing in the way as the crushing tracks came on,
"We shall not be moved, just like a tree"
All that she could do was put her body on the line
And hope that she could make the driver see.
She was standing in the way of the war
Standing in the way of the war.
Standing in the path of the monster once again.
Trying to find some way to stop the killing and the pain
Standing in the way of the war.

Subject: SB: Rachel Corrie by InOBU
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 Nov 10 - 02:19 AM

Rachel Corrie by InOBU
(Words by Lórcan Otway; Tune-traditional) (All rights reserved Otway 2003)

I wish I could look into your hardened eyes,
who drove that tractor as young Rachel dies
Have you lost all your love, could you possibly see
You've become like the monsters of your sad history

Is there love in your tractor, of fifty two tons
is hope and desire in your tanks or your guns
is there the light of kindness in your bullets of lead
do these things feel remorse for the innocent dead

If she could be with us, Rachel Corrie would say
sing another one's story, not mine if you may
Sing a song about Ali, who was only eight
when a tank driver's hatred sealed Ali's sad fate

Sing a song of a mother, expecting new life,
who grew up in hopelessness, terror and strife
Young Nuha who died when her home was struck down
by an Israeli army tractor in her Gaza Strip town

But Rachel forgive me, if I sing of your love
how you cared for the ones few ever think of
perhaps some who can't feel a strangers cold pain
by your murder may understand Israel's shame

I wish I could find a few gentle lines
to plant in your hearts some sheltering vines
I wish I could bring you some small bit of love
As a gift to remember Olympia's dove

Subject: SB: The Provo's Song by Lonesome EJ
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:41 PM

The Provo's Song by Lonesome EJ
(This song was first posted in this thread)

My Father used to tell me, when I was but a lad
"You'll be an IRA man, like me and my old Dad!
'Tis Ireland for the Irish, and never compromise!"
His words would echo in my head as sleeping closed my eyes.

Tim and I and Michael turned to flinging bricks and rocks
At the pale faced English soldier-boys riding in their armored trucks.
And at the tender age of 16 (a lad of brave reknown)
I joined the Provo army in a house in Portadown.

On my chest I wore a Crucifix, in my coat an Armalite.
I was pledged to Pope and Erin, and to further Freedom's fight.
My childhood friends and I, we fought, Brothers true in arms,
And if we served our country's cause, then we could do no harm.

Tim was shot in '81 by a stranger on his stair,
Michael went to prison for the bomb at Connell Square,
My own Dad, my Brother Mark, and two of my friends more
Were killed inside MacArtain's Pub by a bomb tossed through the door. 

I swore vengeance for their sakes, and for the sake of Bobby Sands
And in their names, and Ireland's, I've blood upon my hands.
But still we'd come no closer to my Father's sacred prize-
"Ireland for the Irish, and never compromise!" 

And then one night my own dear Wife, she took me by the hand
Saying "I love you and little Meg more than I love this land.
To seek the future with a gun is neither strong nor wise.
The time has come for Green and Orange to find a compromise."

I lay long awake that night, then fell into a dream:
Tim and Mark and my old Dad stood by my bed, it seemed
I woke and held my Mary close in the darkness of our room
As the words my Dad had spoken came back to me in the gloom.

" My son, there is no glory seeking vengeance for the past,
And Hate should sleep like Ireland's dead beneath a veil of grass.
When Irishmen, together, shall make the killing cease,
'Tis Ireland for the children, for Brotherhood and Peace." 

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: katlaughing
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:35 PM

Joe, pardon me if this has already been asked and answered, but do we have a spot for just tunes from the songbook? I was specifically looking for one Jeri wrote called "katlaughing," but you can imagine the search results on that!:-)

Thanks!

---

There's this (click), Kat - but I don't know how far the project got. Ask Amos.
-Joe-

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:34 PM

Somehow, after that "Protest Neurosis" song, I think we all need a break. But this message doesn't really have anything to do with that. It's just here to fill space in case I find out later I missed a song and need to fit it in....

Subject: SB: Protest Neurosis! by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:32 PM

Protest Neurosis! by Amos
(Tune To Be Determined)

Codwallop left of me, codwallop right!.
Codwallop twisted from black into white.
Codwallop passed on from parent to child,
Thinking as muddy as crocs on the Nile.

Rich with illogic, and rife with disparity;
You'd think no-one ever learned thinking with clarity!
Facts which aren't factual (none can assess them)
Sins which aren't harmful (but folks still confess them.)

Thinking so muddled it could lead to perdition,
Romantic nonsense and pretend intuition;
Justifications, and logical flaws
'Til you will swear that there oughta be laws!

Blatant insanity, crazy but lawful;
Newsprint reporters whose thinking is awful;
Mixed up religions, and loony-bin teachers
Folks center stage who should stay in the bleachers!

Demented morals and schemes to enforce them!
Psychotic hubbies and wives who divorce them!
Icons ridiculous, of gods who love peepees!
Neurotic housewives, dramatic and weepy!

Mad politicians, with schemes so self-serving!
Management plans which are veering and swerving!
Drool-bait for telly, and jail-bait for fun...
Welcome to Earth, the third rock from the sun!

Subject: SB: The Princess of Wester Sion by DaveP
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:28 PM

The Princess of Wester Sion by DaveP
(Click here for midi - The song is in 3/4 time)


(|C)You were the (|)princess of (|G)Wester Si(|)on,
who (|Am)held out for (|)Christmas when (|)all hope was (|)gone.
You (|C)lived in a (|)castle on the (|G)bank of the (|)Tay
and (|Am)laboured for (|)duty by (|Em)night and by (Am)day.

CHORUS:

(|F)Who pays the (|)piper can (|C)pick out the (|)song
to (|G)drown out our (|)dreams as the (|C)days pass a(|)long.
(|F)Who pays the (|)piper to (|C)sing loud and (|)true
to (|G)drown out the (|)calls of the (|Am)dancer
(||G )the (|)dancer for (|Am)you.

Tayside in summer, a magical place,
to be with you there brought a smile to my face.
I wanted a lover, you wanted a friend,
We danced 'till the Sun brought the dance to an end.

CHORUS

You now have your freedom, a new place to start,
no more nights of fear, in charge of your heart.
Remember the dancer who once came to stay,
who came when you called him, but then slipped away.

CHORUS

Subject: SB: The Pride of Llanfair by Matthew Edwards
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:25 PM

The Pride of Llanfair by Matthew Edwards

Matthew's Comments:  An 18th century broadside, fresh from the press!   It owes something to a memory of a poem by Dafydd ap Gwilym about the girls of Lanbadarn, (except he was treated less generously!).  Anyway, it's a small tribute to the town which has given so many happy memories at Llanstock.  As for the air, I think it comes from something in the singing of Gabriel MacArdle, but I haven't been able to pin it down yet.


It was on Sunday morning as the church bell was ringing,
The blackbird was singing his sweet notes in the air.
The girls of the parish to the church were all thronging,
And my love's among them; she's the pride of Llanfair.

As she walks through the churchyard, all the old men fall silent,
As they gaze on her beauty that shines like a star,
And the young men and boys are all secretly hoping,
For a smile from the lips of the pride of Llanfair.

O how sweetly her voice rings 'mid the church's high rafters,
In melodious hymns, while I whisper a prayer,
O dear God in Heaven, its to You I am praying,
For one word from the lips of the pride of Llanfair.

One kiss and a parting, for I must be going;
I'll return in the springtime, or in the new year.
In the green woods and valleys where the Banwy is flowing,
I will walk with my true love, the pride of Llanfair.

Subject: SB: The Price To Pay by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:21 PM

The Price To Pay (The Party, Party Song) by The Shambles

Well, you saw me walk in that door
Looked at you and liked what I saw
Living life is what it's for
Nothing more

I could talk to you all night
It was dark, 'til you put on the light
No need to be polite
It's alright

C'mon and party on, my dear
You bring the whisky, I'll bring the beer
It's Paddy's night and New Year
Over here

Let's get out of this bar
My place ain't heaven, but it's not too far
Remember, wherever you go,
Well there you are

It may not last too long
But it's alright, 'til it's all wrong
If it lasts 'til the booze is gone
Then you're the one

C'mon and party on, my dear
You bring the whisky, I'll bring the beer
It's Paddy's night and New Year
Over here

We wear the scars of many battles
The wrong moves made at the wrong time
The past spreads behind us, like a bruise
We're prisoners free, to repeat the same crime….

Well, pass that bottle round
Think I'm on that 'holy ground'
Nothing's lost and nothing's found
We'll paint this town

Tomorrow is another day
We'll drink this night away
We know the price to pay
And it's OK

C'mon and party on, my dear
You bring the whisky, I'll bring the beer
It's Paddy's night and New Year
Over here

© Roger Gall 1997

Subject: SB: Portaferry Mudcats by Micca
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:20 PM

Portaferry Mudcats by Micca
(Tune:  Galway Bay) (originally posted on this thread)

Maybe someday I'll go back to Portaferry
And hear again that lively music scene
To join the Mudcats there a making merry
And watch the Guiness sink in Fiddlers Green

When we got there we said "It's the edge of nowhere"
"It isn't" said big John ,"but Never fear"
If the rain stops, and the sun comes out tomorrow
You'll get damn good view of it from here

And did it Rain? Oh bless me, this is Ireland
It poured down like the sky'd begun to crack
But we were snug and warm inside the Fiddlers
A drinking that vile stuff that's coloured black

In Dumicans we drank a lot of porter
You ask me how I know? Well here's the proof
I was on my 13th visit to the toilet
Before I noticed that it had no roof

Now Skipjacks Birthday it occurred in Ireland
And we all signed a card for his good sake
And smiled when he was given a small prezzie
His very own DIY birthday cake

We sang a lot and stayed late at the drinking
And some played music till the early dawn
Including many tunes of Local vintage
And no one seemed to notice No Bodhran!!!

How did we entertain ourselves between times?
even Irish pubs must sometimes close, alas
we drank a lot of tea, and wine from boxes
and Jude and Cat give seminars on Bras

No mention will be made of all the farting
Or of jiving in the pub on Saturday night
And you know that we are too polite to mention
The night time noises from the poltergeist

John Moulden, John and Jacky sang so sweetly
And Frank and his musicians, they were grand
The local folks made welcome all these strangers
And everyone played like it was one band

Oh Maybe someday I'll go back to Ireland
If the Mudcats meet again in County Down
I'll return again to rest myself in Barholm
And enjoy again the welcome in the town

Subject: SB: Porcelain Angels by Dharmabum
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:18 PM

Porcelain Angels by Dharmabum

Martha had a little place,
In the corner of the house,
Where she collected little angels,
Made of porcelain & glass,
Walt never thought much of them,
He'd just always walk on by,
Just something else to collect more dust,
Never really caught his eye,
That's pretty much the way it went
Or so he seemed to feel
Till Martha died a year ago,
And it all became too real.

Seems like things all fell in place,
A little bit too late,
Before their dreams were ever really shared,
And he told her that he loved her,
But he wished he'd said it more,
He never knew how much he really cared.

They were married in the forties,
Right after the war
A single rose & a borrowed suit,
Was all they could afford,
Then came banks & then the mortgages,
There were kids & there were bills,
At times it felt like a carnival,
With all the noise & thrills,
And at times she drove him crazy,
He never knew the reason why,
She could laugh with him one minute,
Then the tears would fill her eyes.

Some days there was laughter,
Some days there were tears,
Sometimes, the love was hard to find,
But they stood beside each other,
And they made it through the years,
Good or bad, they didn't seem to mind.

Now he wakes up every morning,
On the same side of the bed,
That he shared with her for forty years,
Where she used to lay her head,
And he sits down to his breakfast,
At a table set for two,
As he stares into his coffee cup,
Cause there's nothing else to do,
Now he takes a little time each day,
To do the simple little things,
As he picks up every angel,
And wipes the dust off of its wings.

Some days there's still laughter,
He can hear it in the walls,
Sometimes, he sees her when he sleeps,
But the days are getting shorter,
Leaves are falling from the trees,
And the memories, are all he's got to keep.

© R. Horvath 2000.

Subject: SB: Pleasures Of A Backdoor Man by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:16 PM

Pleasures Of A Backdoor Man by Amergin

Chorus:
My toothbrush is in the drawer
The glasses I got her in a box
My beer is in the storage shed
My books are hiding neath her socks
Gone are my prints from the glass
Gone are my butts from the trays
Gone are all traces of my existence
Gone is the happiness of yesterday

I open the door and step outside
The cold rain freezing my cheeks
"Chris is coming, you have to go"
My tongue moves but never speaks
The clouds gather to darken my thoughts
As I slowly amble to my beatup van
But I think to myself and smile
Such is the pleasure of a backdoor man

Chorus

The parking lot shines with sorrow
As it lies within the morning gloom
"I can't see us together in 20 years"
I hear the wind crying in winter's womb
The clouds are pregnant with the tears
As I step inside my blue beatup van
My smile grows wide and bitter
Such is the pleasure of a backdoor man

Chorus

Her kitchen light shines through the glass
Like a star in the morning twilight
"I am old enough to be your mother"
I hear the laughter of the dying night
The clouds break loose their tears
As I drive away in my beatup old van
Salting the curves of my cheeks
Such is the pleasure of a backdoor man

Chorus

Subject: SB: The Planets Seven by Joseph Mary Plunkett+tune
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:15 PM

The Planets Seven by Joseph Mary Plunkett, Tune by McGrath of Harlow
(For the chords, click here)  "The flowers of heaven and earth are the same flowers."   Joseph Mary Plunkett 1887-1916. 

McGrath's Comments:  Joseph Mary Plunkett. I've got a battered selection of his poems I picked up in a junk shop in Clonmel.  It must have been printed fairly soon after he was shot - because it talks of him as being dead, but it never mentions the circumstances of his death.  Wartime censorship I imagine.  Anyway, here's a ballad he wrote that's included in the introduction written by his sister Geraldine. I've never seen it anywhere else: 

The planets seven that swing through Heaven 
On a golden tether round their Lord the Sun, 
Are not so humble, but they sometimes grumble, 
That their life is humdrum with but little fun. 
Though that shining sickle the moon's not fickle,
Yet she's sometimes mickle and more times less, 
But my love, my blessing, would give them a lesson 
Both the stars and crescent in graciousness.

There's many a flower in a heavy shower 
Would say that its hour of grief was black 
And the bearded barley would take it hardly 
In the morning early to be cut and stacked; 
The silver herring off the coast of Kerry 
Is not so merry to meet with death, 
But my love, my children, she would beguile them 
With her easy smiling while he stopped their breath.

If the stars lack teachers, or ever a preacher 
To recall the creatures to the ways of God, 
Let them cease to whistle and come and listen 
Kneeling like Christians upon the sod; 
Then Saint Columba will shake the slumber 
Of Death that cumbers their tired eyes 
And my love will glance with a look entrancing 
And send them dancing to Paradise. 

Subject: SB: Pitman's Redundancy Pay by bill\sables
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:12 PM

Pitman's Redundancy Pay by bill\sables

bill's Comments:  Some of the words are in the Geordie Accent, the language of the North East Mining area of England.

Now Jonty Broon the pitman was off to work one morning
He'd got his bait and pit boots on, the day was still just dawning
He put on his cap and left the house, met his mates out in the street
They didn't know the shock they'd get before coming home that neet
'Cos as they walked into the yard they heard the buzzers call
And saw a great big notice, it was plastered on the wall
It was put there by the coal board, "They were very sorry but
Due to economic pressures, the pit had got to shut"
Some said they'd go to Nottingham, some leave the pit for good
But Jonty sat there thoughtful like and said to Tommy Judd
"I've been involved in pitwork all my married life
And the hardest part of all this is how to tell the wife"
So he went and told his missus, it was very hard to say
But she said "Now divent worry man, I've saved for a rainy day
Ye knaa up in the wardrobe, I've got two biscuit tins,
Wey I've saved a bit of money there in case the times got thin."

"Now we've been married fowerty years and I asked you when I was a bride
Not to ever ask me what I kept inside
In all that time you've worked so hard through strikes and war torn years
And never once have you asked me what was in them tins upstairs
Well now that things have altered I think it's time I said
What I've got in them biscuit tins we've kept beside the bed".
They opened up the first tin and lifting up the lid
Found shillings, two bobs, and half croons, there was nearly fifty quid
He asked her where it had come from, "Did you keep it from my pay"
She said every time they had made love she put half a croon away
A tear filled that old pitman's eye he broke down and he said
"If I'd known that forty years ago I'd have brought you all my trade"
But then he got the other tin and laid it on the floor
Inside he found two chicken eggs and ten thousand pounds or more
He said "Now this is funny, This thing has got me foxed
I just can't fathom out why these eggs are in this box"

She said " Sometimes I got lonely when you were doon the pit
Wey I mebbies was unfaithful, but just a little bit
Now every time it happened I put an egg away
Ye knaa just a little token to remind me of that day"
Now Jonty thought, that's only twice that she had gone astray
And thought of all the many times that he had played away
So he said he would forgive her 'cos she was a canny wife 
"But how come all that money, I've never earned that in my life"
She said " Ye think I divent knaa that you've been with other wimmen
I've listened to the gossop man, I knaa that you've been sinnin
Now for all that money in the tin I think you should be grateful
'Cos I used te gan and sell the eggs every time I had a crate full


Bill Sables

Subject: SB: Quicksilver by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:10 PM

Quicksilver by The Shambles

You still search for Eldorado
Look for that city of gold
The golden curse of our nation
Lives are now brought and sold
Black river, Rio Negro
Flows tainted with your spoil
Invisible poison
In the flood water, boils

Quicksilver, runs in our river
Quicksilver, runs in our veins
All thought to your profit
All thought to you gain
No thought to our future
No thought to our pain

With our old foes encroaching
We knew where to make a stand
But you poison the fish in
The life blood, the veins of our land
Our young men are ailing
Our children, they fail to thrive
While you polish your trinkets
We try to stay alive

Quicksilver, runs in our river
Quicksilver, runs in our veins
All thought to your profit
All thought to your gain
No thought to our future
No thought to our pain

Witness the rape of our forest
Soil the last paradise
You juggle the money markets
We struggle to pay the price

Quicksilver, runs in our river
Quicksilver, runs in our veins
All thought to your profit
All thought to your gain
No thought to our future
No thought to our pain

Roger Gall 1995

Subject: SB: Over the Edge of the World by Kevin McGrath
From: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Oct 10 - 09:08 PM

Over the Edge of the World by McGrath of Harlow

(Originally posted in this thread)

McGrath's Comments:  Here is a song I wrote a couple of years ago when my wife's mother died. Last week (March 6th 2001)my brother Brian suddenly died over in Ireland, and I found myself remembering it as I walked up to his place, and I sang it in the pub after we buried him on Sunday. It seemed to fit him well.  I just sang the first two verses - the last one didn't seem necessary. (Maybe it might work better as a first verse, with the other two to follow.) I find songs can help a lot sometimes. I hope maybe this one might - and I've put it up on my website tonight, with chords, but no notes, Over the Edge of the World

Now you've left us behind and you've gone on your way,
over the edge of the world.
You left without warning with so much to say.
Are you just round the corner, or far far away?
Well, goodbye, and I hope I might see you some day,
over the edge of the world.
Now you've gone where nobody can find you,
over the edge of the world.
To follow a star, like the wise men of old,
to search for a treasure, far richer than gold,
and to find a great secret, can never be told,
over the edge of the world.

I'm watching and waiting and trying hard to see
over the edge of the world.
Now your prison is opened, and now you are free,
and that's how I always have known it must be.
And maybe now somewhere you're waiting for me,
over the edge of the world.
Now you've gone where nobody can find you,
over the edge of the world.
To follow a star, like the wise men of old,
to search for a treasure, far richer than gold,
and to find a great secret, can never be told,
over the edge of the world.

Well, I stood at the cross at the far end of town,
and it felt like the end of the world.
The cars and the lorries went round and around,
there were some headed up, there were some headed down -
but there's none of them headed for where you were bound,
over the edge of the world.
Now you've gone where nobody can find you,
over the edge of the world.
To follow a star, like the wise men of old,
to search for a treasure, far richer than gold,
and to find a great secret, can never be told,
over the edge of the world.

© Kevin McGrath

Subject: The Only Time That Matters Is Now (The Shambles)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Oct 10 - 02:06 AM

The Only Time That Matters Is Now by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  This song is about the place where adolescents go, or where they want to be. It’s usually
only just behind a closed bedroom door, but it may as well be on another planet.


My feelings, every day are torn,
My thanks, like a badge to be worn.
Don’t expect my gratitude
My attitude?
I didn’t ask to be born
Horizons, you always will see clear,
Doubts here, you’ll never find
Music is always played loud here
We’re proud here with nothing to prove

On opinions, I‘ve been force-fed
Your thoughts, spin in my head
Don’t feel like I’m on display here
I’ll stay here
With my thoughts instead
Here, no feelings of guilt
No walls to tear down
Or windmills to tilt
Music is always played loud here
We’re proud hear with nothing to prove

Here, no price to pay
I can stay out
All night and all day
There’s no one to stop me from growing
Or going,
My own way
Here, we see who we choose
No favours to win, or to lose
Music is always played loud here
We’re proud hear with nothing to prove

The only time that matters, is now
Can’t stay young, I don’t know how
The future, never concerns the young
For when the future comes
Youth takes it’s bow!

Roger Gall 1996.

Subject: SB: The Shannon Knows by Matthew Richards
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Oct 10 - 02:04 AM

Only The Shannon Knows
words & music by Matthew Richards

Based somewhat on a real-life experience.   --Mbo


Prologue:

When I was but a young man, nineteen years old or so
I met the first and only love that I would ever know
The feeling, yes, it laid me low--Oh, it seems so long ago...
And only the Shannon knows
Only the Shannon knows

1.) I saw her in the field one day, at potato digging time,
I'd taken up a job there, for the whole harvest time;
And when she turned her face to me, her long brown hair unfurled,
I saw a beauty that ne'er again will be seen upon this world
Everyday that girl was there, and as I watched here more,
I felt the grip of love on me, which I'd never felt before;
And as the days passed quickly by, the deeper in I fell,
And exactly where it'd take me in the future, none could tell.

Chorus:
That riverland it rolled and flowed, down to the waterside,
As the autumn of my dreams rolled in, and then ebbed like the tide;
Her bonny face still haunts me so--Oh, it seems so long ago...
And only the Shannon knows
Only the Shannon knows

2.) I never knew her name, until one day by chance,
I saw it on a workers list, upon which I had glanced;
And when I had learned it, it was like music to my mind,
And the beauty of it greatly justified who it described.
I asked some folks about her, from round about those lands,
They said she'd 'been in trouble' and had a baby on her hands;
"A baby isn't trouble!" I said, and be it as it might,
A baby is a miracle in any sort of light.

3.) It wasn't really perfect, thought--for it seemed she did not see
The boy who loved her from afar, and adored her quietly;
But one day I flashed a smile at her, and she returned it back to me,
Our eyes me for a moment, then she turned and walked away.
So I thought that I should ask her to a ceilidh in the town,
With dancing, fiddles, pipes, and more, and cider all around;
But when I went to ask her, a tear fell from my eye,
For I saw my bonny lassie in the arms of another boy.

Subject: SB: Only In America? by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Oct 10 - 02:03 AM

Only In America? by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments:  I put this on another thread. I think we ought to carry on our disputes in song sometimes . . . No names in this song - that's not what it's about. This song is about the people who had their votes stolen, not about the man who may have benefited by the theft, or the man who may have lost out... (This'd fit to all kinds of tunes - Villikins and his Dinah/Betsy from Pike, 1913 Massacre; I've got a tune for it, but I can't put a name to it yet. Sounds familiar.)

Chorus:

They were dimpled and pimpled and simple and clear,
They were somebody voting for someone's idea.
And they should have been counted, but that wouldn't do -
For somebody stopped it, 'cos he thought he might lose.

When the year of elections came round in it's time
That big politician, oh his words were so fine,
He said "Trust the people", and "Count every vote"
But the words that he said, it's in water they're wrote.

When the voting was done with and the counting came on,
Before it was over, he said "I'm the one",
For on the first count he came in by a nose,
And he said, "Now it's finished, let the counting be closed."

But there's thousands and thousands of votes thrown away,
By the worn out machines that have long had their day,
And when they were counted the votes they were true -
But the man who was winning said they wouldn't do.

Chorus:
They were dimpled and pimpled and simple and clear,
They were somebody voting for someone's idea.
And they should have been counted, but that wouldn't do -
For somebody stopped it, 'cos he thought he might lose.

And he stood like a stone, with his head in the sand,
And the battle was waged in the courts of the land
And the counting was halted, and his friends did their stuff,
And the votes lying waiting - well they weren't good enough. 

Chorus:
They were dimpled and pimpled and simple and clear,
They were somebody voting for someone's idea.
And they should have been counted, but that wouldn't do -
For somebody stopped it, 'cos he thought he might lose.

And somebody said "Well at least now it's done",
And someone conceded, though maybe he had won,
And somebody lives in a House on the Hill-
But the votes that weren't counted are haunting him still.

Chorus:
They were dimpled and pimpled and simple and clear,
They were somebody voting for someone's idea.
And they should have been counted, but that wouldn't do -
For somebody stopped it, 'cos he thought he might lose.

Subject: SB: The Once and Future Ken (McGrath of Harlow)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Oct 10 - 01:59 AM

The Once and Future Ken by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments:  Bear with me a little, Americans and others - this is a song about a little local affair in England, the somewhat shambolic election campaign for a Mayor of London.  (I think this is the only time I've ever written a supportive song about a politician, in this case Ken Livingstone.  Only slightly tongue in cheek.  (Oh yes - a "wen" (in the last verse below) is "an indolent tumour esp. on the scalp or neck."  (Incidentally, William Cobbett referred to London as "the Great Wen", which makes it an insult with literary and historical connections, and some relevance for a would-be mayor of London.)   This is unusual for me in being a political song but not a "finger-pointing" song.  Well, it is so far as Tony Blair is involved, I suppose, but he's peripheral to Ken Livingstone in this one.  (I reckon that's why he's so against him, rather than anything political.  He hates getting upstaged.)   Why do I like Ken Livingstone?  Well, for one thing, any politician who goes to his political wake dressed up in a Red Devil suit is ok by me, and that's what Ken did when the GLC was abolished - up there on the stage in the park next to County Hall at the farewell celebration.  Hank Wangford wrote a song in which GLC stood for "Good Loud Country".  Roll on the Restoration - we should get some good concerts out of it.  If you click here you can get the version on my website with chords.  If anyone would like to sing it and wants the tune, send me a personal message with your email address, and I'll sing it in to a file, and send it as an email attachment.


"Oh the Once and Future Ken, 
He keeps coming back again - 
He's a rascal and a scamp", 
Says the Man at Number Ten, 
"He's a devil, and he's red 
I know he hides beneath my bed, 
Don't go voting for that crank, 
But for the Once and Future Frank." 

Chorus:
Oh Tony , Tony, Tony, 
I think you must be wrong 
For Ken's the man for London 
And he has been all along. (bis)

"Oh the Once and Future Frank, 
He is solid as a plank, 
he's got whiskers on his chin, 
A Santa Claus who'd run a bank, 
And he's worth his weight in gold, 
he's sure to do just what he's s told, 
Unlike that devil among men, 
The Once and Future Ken." 
Oh Tony , Tony, Tony...

"But the Once and Future Ken, 
He is all things to all men. 
That man is my despair," 
Says the Man at Number Ten. 
"When they sold off County Hall 
They should have sold him off and all - 
He keeps getting in my hair" 
Says the Once and Future Blair.

(Chorus) Oh Tony , Tony, Tony...

Oh the Once and Future Blair 
He says "It really isn't fair. 
He keeps coming back again -, 
oh I wish he wasn't there. 
He's a pestilential newt, 
Thomas Becket in a suit 
Will no one rid me of this wen, 
The Once and Future Ken?" 
Oh Tony , Tony, Tony... 

Oh the Once and Future Ken, 
he is on his way again. 
Old Mrs T and Tony B 
They tried to sink him in the Thames 
And they thought that he would drown, 
But they could never keep him down. 
And now old London will be free 
With the Once and Future GLC.

(Chorus) Oh Tony , Tony, Tony, 
I think you must be wrong 
For Ken's the man for London 
And he has been all along. (bis) 

And when we are together, 
it's that which makes us strong - 
and Ken's the man for London 
and we knew it all along 
And when we are together, 
it's that which makes us strong, 
and Ken's the man for London 
and we knew it all along.

Kevin McGrath (2000)

Subject: SB: Old Wives Tales by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Oct 10 - 01:57 AM

Old Wives Tales by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  The following song is almost entirely (and intentionally) composed of proverbs, platitudes and clichés. Parents have, pretty much, to rely on these only, as the accumulated wisdom of humankind, in any formal way, does not appear to be directed to the business of producing, rearing and educating our children. Education is for passing on knowledge on far more important subjects You do need a licence to drive a car or keep certain types animals but practically anyone has the right to produce children.


You've gone and spoilt it for yourself
Look a gift horse in the mouth
You put your big foot in it
When you open your *north and south
You know the value of nothing
The price of everything
Know when it's going for a song
But not what makes you sing

Well where there's a will
Well, there's a way
Tomorrow is another day
But, if tomorrow never comes
It won't matter much anyway
You're only young once you know
You reap what you sow
The devil makes work for idle hands
Easy come and easy go

When wise words fail, try old wives tales
Try old wives tales, when wise words fail

Well, look at how you've grown
Soon have children of your own
Staying out until late at night
Talking on your telephone
The things you hear yourself say
"It wasn't like it in my day" 
Just use those words and proverbs
What's wrong with an old cliché? 
If you repeat it one more time
Maybe, the ball will cross the line? 
You win the game, set and match
Everything will turn out fine
This life is full of surprises
You won't win many prizes
There's plenty of sunsets
But the sun it also rises

When wise words fail, try old wives tales
Try old wives tales, when wise words fail

*North and south, is cockney rhyming slang. for mouth.

Roger Gall 1997

Subject: SB: Old Glory Sails by Barry Finn
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Oct 10 - 01:54 AM

Old Glory Sails by Barry Finn
Tune: Empty Nets by Jim Payne

She's a three masted frigate with an entrance real fine,
A 54 gunner and well laid out in style.
She's been bruised, but not broken, scarred and well worn,
She's the oldest still serving and her back is still strong.

Chorus: And all the young nation hopes that her glory won't pale,
And she'll say in the service under full sail.

With the Barbary Pirates off of Tripoli's coast,
It was a battle fought fiercely and few lives she lost.
Like rolling thunder a broadside she poured,
Sending enemy ships to the ocean floor.

Chorus:

Off New Jersey she was sited by King George's fleet,
With no wind and alone she turned in retreat.
For two days and three nights the crew towed her o'r the shoals,
With brilliance and fresh wind she out distanced five foes.

Chorus:

At 14 knots she was fast for her time,
She out sailed most of the Ships Of The Line.
In battle the cannonballs bounced off her side,
Off Halifax she was christened with the name Ironsides.

Chorus:

The Guerriere she met with her 48 guns,
Within an hour her masts and her rigging were gone.
Like the Pitcairn and the Java who'd not be taken in tow,
They were all left for the waves to wash over their bows.

Chorus:

Never holed or dismasted by an unfriendly gun,
Two centuries of service and she stood every storm.
Now with new copper sheathing, planking, decking and frames,
In her glory she'll sail as the fleet's pride once again.

Chorus:

Barry Finn 1997

Subject: SB: Oh, Damn It All by Morticia aka TerriM
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Oct 10 - 01:53 AM

Oh, Damn It All by Morticia aka TerriM
(Tune:  Danny Boy)

Oh damn it all, the pipes, the pipes are frozen
The plumber's here at half past twelve at night
To call him out is not what I'd have chosen
But it's ten below and I might get frostbite

And I can hear him cursing at the boiler
And I can feel cold water round my feet
I'd give my arm for just one cup of coffee
And both my legs, to feel a bit of heat

Oh damn it all, the pipes, the pipes are frozen
The plumbers gone and left me in the cold
He drew his breath over his teeth and said "Love,
I've never seen a boiler quite that old"

And then he said" What cowboy fitted this then?"
And then he charged me half my yearly pay
He said " The parts you need, well, they don't make 'em,
And I'll be back...a week on Saturday"

Oh damn it all, the pipes, the pipes are frozen
It's been ten days since I last had a bath
I swear I saw a penguin in the kitchen
And then the plumber came whistling up the path

Well I was cold, and wet and tired & tealess
I just saw red, a hammer came to hand
That's my defence, Your Honour, he provoked me.
She let me off and shook me by the hand.

Subject: SB: Off To The Sugarbush Again by Bill Cameron
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Oct 10 - 01:50 AM

Off To The Sugarbush Again by Bill Cameron ("Willie-O") & Gary Glover
Tune: Limejuice Tub (Australian)

Willie-O's Comments:  Well, I've written a couple of songs about maple syruping (which I presume is what you mean by "maple harvest"), a subject I have a lot of experience with.  Here's one which borrows a tune and most of a verse from the Australian shearing song "Lime Juice Tub."   (Kangaroos don't show up much in this part of the world, but Watson's Corners, (which I have spoken of before, see "Gigs from Hell" thread) got some minor fame some years ago when a guy swore up and down he'd seen a 'roo cross the road.  Got a lot of attention, but best guess is it was a combination of bad whiskey, bad vision and a deformed calf . . . )

 

(Chorus:)

Here in east Ontario, when the sap is running it's time to go,
So grab your buckets, get the tractor chains,
We're off to the sugarbush again
(Response: "Off to the sugarbush again.")

From the second rock back to Gruesome Gulch,
The sap ain't running very much.
Over in Quebec they say it flowed,
But not in east Ontario. (Not in east Ontario)

(Chorus)

It's home drinkin beer I'd rather be,
Than drilling holes in defenceless trees,
Humpin' buckets of sap for free
In mud and snow up to my knees
(Mud and snow up to my knees)

(Chorus)

Although we live beyond our means,
Our daughters wear no designer jeans
Nor are they bothered by fancy shoes
They're wild as Watson's kangaroos
(Watson's Corners kangaroos)

Our sugar shack is a relic fine,
You could say its past its prime
But if we stick a two by four in here
It might stand up for one more year.
(Might stand up...)

The pans all leak and they're full of scum
Sap pump's blown to kingdom come.
I've got an idea and I'll tell you it:
We'd be better off with a gravel pit.
(Better off with a gravel pit!)

Subject: SB: O Elian by Praise
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Oct 10 - 01:49 AM

O Elian by Praise

O Elian, where are you, my child?
O Elian, where are you.... ?
Your childhood gone, swept beneath the sea,
Elian, can you forgive me?

O Elian, where are you, my child?
O Elian, where are you.... ?
Your face, a poster in every crowd,
Elian, your mama weeps aloud.

O Elian, where are you, my child?
O Elian, where are you.... ?
Your life belongs to a world gone mad
Elian, your mama is so sad.

O Elian, where are you, my child?
O Elian, where are you.... ?
O Elian, precious Elian,
Elian, can you forgive me?

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 02:03 AM

This is a place-holder - just in case I need space to add a missed song...

Subject: SB: Now You're Not There by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 02:02 AM

Now You're Not There by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  This is a song for my mom, bless her.


The moon rose low in the sky,
Like a young eagle first trying to fly.
Before he climbs and is soaring way on high.

I don't like the rules to this game,
It's filling up my heart with pain.
Why can't things stay the same?

Don't cry, there's no surprise,
The sun has rose and set in your eyes.
Welcoming eyes now filled with tears of goodbye.

There are things I still wanted to share,
Life's empty, now you're not there.
Don't think I didn't care.

It's OK, it's just the way,
All living things fade and decay.
Sun follows moon, night follows day.

There are so many things left unsaid,
They echo around in my head.
I can speak them, now you are dead.

The moon rose low in the sky,
Like a young eagle first trying to fly.
Before he climbs and is soaring way on high.

Roger Gall 1995.

Subject: SB: Now Honor Him by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 02:01 AM

Now Honor Him by MMario

With All Thy Heart, With All Thy Mind 
With All Thou Art, Now Honor Him. 
With All Thy Mind, With All Thy Soul; 
For All Thou Art, Now Honor Him.

Composer of the Skies, He Taught Each Star to Sing 
The Music of The Spheres, to Make The Heavens Ring. 
Each Planet on its Course, Each Comet on its Way 
The Moon to Rule the Night, and the Sun to Rule the Day.

Sculptor of the World, Beneath the Heavens High 
The Waters Gather'd in, to Let the Earth Be Dry. 
The Mountains He Made Tall, Each Valley set With Care; 
Each Rock and Grain of Sand, To Make The World Be Faire.

With All Thy Heart, With All Thy Mind 
With All Thou Art, Now Honor Him. 
With All Thy Mind, With All Thy Soul; 
For All Thou Art, Now Honor Him.

First Gardener of All, With Care and Nurturing 
He Made Each Growing Thing, That Buds or Blooms in Spring. 
Each Lily of the Field, Each Fruit or Grain or Vine, 
Each Flower, Herb or Tree, Now Sprang Forth From His Mind.

Shepherd of All Flocks, on Earth, the Sea or Sky 
Each Creature Made to Be; That Creeps or Swims or Flies 
The Hunter and its Prey, The Grazers in the Field 
Each Sparrow and Pea-Cock, Each After Its Own Kind.

With All Thy Heart, With All Thy Mind 
With All Thou Art, Now Honor Him. 
With All Thy Mind, With All Thy Soul; 
For All Thou Art, Now Honor Him.

Father of Us All, He Made Us to His Plan 
And When We Went Astray, He Led Us by His Hand. 
He Sent His Son to Earth to Show Us All the Way; 
So We Might Live With Him, Fore'er and a Day.

With All Thy Heart, With All Thy Mind 
With All Thou Art, Now Honor Him. 
With All Thy Mind, With All Thy Soul; 
For All Thou Art, Now Honor Him.

Subject: SB: Now Comes The Time by Allan C.
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 02:00 AM

Now Comes The Time by Allan C.

Now comes the time
Now comes the time
Now comes the time when we all have to say goodbye.

We'll meet again
We'll meet again
We'll meet again and feel the love we share tonight.

It's hard to find a way to say "I have to leave now." 
For a moment just like this won't come again.
But someday we'll be together and I know it won't be long
'Til our hearts will overflow with love once more.

Now comes the time
Now comes the time
Now comes the time when we all have to say goodbye.

We'll meet again
We'll meet again
We'll meet again and feel the love we share tonight.

We'll meet again and feel the love we share tonight.

© Allan C. Clark

Subject: SB: No Tomorrow For The Poor by Barry Finn
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 01:56 AM

No Tomorrow For The Poor by Barry Finn

Tune: Virginia Lags, Traditional

Inside the ghettos dwells the greatest of crimes
Where kids with no hope are serving their time
Where they're shocked into feeling that life has no price
They live and they die no tomorrow

With no higher learning, no place they can turn
They see daily the wealth from crime they can earn
They're under the gun every time that they turn
And we ask why they have no values

Their language is foreign, their culture is strange
There's slight chance for survival outside of a gang
To get life from drugs beats the pain of no change
There's no light at the end of their tunnel

There's abuse of all kinds that runs rampage with rage
And the cycle runs deeper with each passing age
Until lock them away is all we can say
They've been locked away all of their young lives

We'll draw cheap labor from them that'll slave
And watch while we help the rest into the grave
Keep them from good health, good schools and good wage
And hope that there isn't a backlash

So now let us finish and shake hands with our fate
And don't be surprised when you're a victim of hate
What they've been robbed of, to you they'll relate
You'll be hunted as prey by your victim

Barry Finn 1997

Subject: SB: No Bullshit From You by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 01:54 AM

No Bullshit From You by Amos

Amos' Comments:  Here's looking atcha, 'Spaw, me lad; some misbegotten muse who couldn't read a map showed up in my headbones this afternoon reciting the following, which it seemed to me should be dedicated to you (not at you, please understand!).

Spaw's Response:  Truly lovely there Amos.........Although I am confused about the bullshit stuff.  I'm honest and sincere, basically a shy guy who would never dare to offend and wouldn't say feces if he had a faceful.  I'm generally so kind and considerate that its embarrassing to watch me kowtow to the higher life forms that rule my life.  My every breath is so sweet, it smells like Carnation milk.  I wouldn't dream of provoking those around me with sarcastic and nasty references, just not in my makeup.  So I am a bit confused by any reference to me in terms of giving bullshit to anyone.  Amos, I want you to know and be assured that I mean it with all due humbleness and with deep respect when I say fockoffasshole, which I believe is a German word, although its meaning is unknown to me.  -- Spaw


I've sailed across the open seas, 
At least four out of seven, 
I worked down on the hard-luck strand 
Where fortune comes unleavened 
I've cracked my bones a'breaking rock 
In hopes of finding gold 
And I've lived the soft suburban style 
And slowly, I've grown old; 
So I'm looking out from many years 
And I guess I think it's true 
I will share your joy, and support your tears 
But I want no bullshit from you!

Chorus:
The trains come in, the trains go out 
We're all on the same damn ride 
And each of us knows exactly how 
The truth should be described 
And you may say it's pale mauve 
And I know damn well its blue 
So even though you have my love, 
I want no bullshit from you 

I have let you whine and cry and pout 
When that was what you wanted 
And I've shut my mouth when those about, 
Their ditzy feelings vaunted. 
When you were feeling put upon 
I'd help you from your maze 
And trim your sheets and tend your helm, 
And tighten down your stays; 
And I have not run the open seas 
As I would have loved to do; 
So darlin' pay attention please, 
I'll have no bullshit from you. 

I've watched you try the temples on 
And spout their mindless slogans 
And I helped you out when your life got stuck 
In that hippie's beaded hogan! 
And I'll always drive you home again 
If your path seems a dead end 
And I hope you know I always hope 
To be an honest friend; 
But I got to say, from my heart of hearts 
And you'd best believe its true 
Although I hope we never part, 
I want no bullshit from you.

Subject: SB: The Night That Young Barky Got Busted
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 01:53 AM

The Night That Young Barky Got Busted by Amos, Áine and Mbo
(Tune: The Night that Old Larry Got Stretched)

The night that young Barky got busted
She was meant to be fixin' computers
And her folks thought she could be trusted
But she's run off on an internet tooter.

(Spoken)  But her Pa found out!

The night that young Barky got caught
She was driving the freeway at night
Was she doing what Dad thought she ought?
To squeeze by Mom it would be too tight

The night that young Barky got flagged,
As lines on the road flashed by,
A young poet in her memory tagged,
She was thinking what lines she would try.

The night that young Barky she passed
A slowpoke who went 44
At 75 she blew past
She knows what a turn signal's for!

And her driving recalled as she sat,
When she came on like a bat out of hell,
That's the same way she 'ppeared on the 'Cat,
And boy! She's remarkably swell!

The night that young Barky got grounded,
It shoulda been bad – Oh mais non!
Her laptop – working on how it sounded,
She came up with a beautiful song!

But what bothered young Barky the most 
And what has most surely depressed her 
Was that she herself passed out the post 
That willy or nilly confessed her!

(Spoken) But she'd do it again fer the 'Cat!

Subject: SB: The Night Before Mudcat Christmas
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 01:51 AM

The Night Before Mudcat Christmas by Mbo, Caitrin, MMario, and InOBU (Larry)

Well, here's the cumulative poem:
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the forum
Not a creature was stirring, not even a possum;
Their map knickers hung by the keyboard with care
In hopes that Santa 'Spaw soon would be there;
The 'Catters were tucked in all snug in their beds
And visions of Mick's food danced in their heads;
Mbo with charango and Banjo Bonnie with thong
Had just settled down to sing a long song;

When out on the web there arose such a furor;
They refreshed the threads to see what could occur
Away to my monitor I flew like grouse and with sand in my eyes took 
control 
of the mouse;
The moon on the chest of the shiny waxed Squeak
Gave the lustre of midday below in the creek,
When what to my wondering eyes should waylay
But a banjo-shaped sled pulled by possums of clay.
With a skinny ol' driver so zany and braw
I knew in a moment it must be Santa 'Spaw!

Like gauchos' fast feet his possums they came
And he cursed and shouted and called them by name:
"Now CLETUS! now Waylon! now Cleigh! and now Neil!
On Tooter! on Gargoyle! On Stupid and Eel!
To the reeds in the creek to the top of the screen
With such a torrent of !@#$%&* that's ever been seen!
As houses before Hurricane Floyd they did fly
Like Dorothy's house, right up in the sky.
So up to the toolbar the possums they flew
With a sled full of music, and Santa 'Spaw too.

And then in a twinkling I hear through my speakers
The dancing and jigging of very small sneakers.
As I drew back my hand and said "What was that?"
Down the forum 'Spaw scrolled, and fell on his prat.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his feet.
Our Marion screamed, OCH! I BET HE EATS MEAT!

For GeorgeH gin and tonic, and out of his pack
The sayings of Cromwell, just for the crack!
His eyes - how they watered, his dimples how merry!
His his nose it was HUGE just like our pal Larry!
His mouth was drawn up like the bow for a fiddle
Or like a beer can that was crushed in the middle.
A long whisp of wheat he clenched in his teeth
And dragonflies halo-ed his head like a wreath.

He had a silly little grin and not much of a belly
That in no way resembled a bowl of lime jelly (that one's for you, Aine)
Neither chubby nor plump, a right hon'rable 'Catter
And I laughed just like somebody toots a goat's bladder;
With a flick of the wrist and a tap on his head
I knew he'd have something to add to the Thread;
He spouted some political thoughts as he filled up the knickers

With dulcimers, and banjos with folk band name stickers,
And laying his finger aside of his nose
He gave a loud snort and up the screen rose;
He sprang to his sled, to his team gave a toot,
And shot liked a ball kicked by CLETUS' foot.
But I heard him exclaim as bold flight he ensued
"Next stop, The Neil Young Center for the Terminally Screwed!"

© 1999

Subject: SB: Never Too Far From My Heart by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 01:49 AM

Never Too Far From My Heart by Amergin
(Tune: Drifting Too Far From The Shore)

Sometimes at night in my dreams
Where nothing is what it seems
The moonlight so gently gleams
You're never too far from my heart.

Chorus:
Never too far from my heart
You're never too far from my heart
Baby come to me today
And I'll show you the way
You're never too far from my heart

I see us walking at night
Holding our hands so tight
Kissing beneath the moonlight
You're never too far from my heart

Chorus

And then we dance in the street
To the tune of our heartbeats
And the music's so sweet
You're never too far from my heart

Chorus

Subject: SB: Never by Kelida
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 01:47 AM

Never by Kelida

I never meant to fall in love,
Especially so soon,
You're all I ever dream of,
Nighttime or afternoon.

You're all that I could ever want,
And all I'll ever need again 
You're my lover and my confidant 
My pain and hurt and my best friend.

Never--never--never again 
Never will I forget the pain-- 
The pain I caused to you 

I never thought that we would last, 
But this time I was wrong 
I thought that you'd be in the past, 
By this point in the song 

I wish you were still here to hear 
Exactly how sorry I am 
Please forgive me soon, my dear, 
Please realise just how lost I am (without you) 

Never--never--never before 
Has one of our fights evolved to a war 
Why did I start it now? 

I've never been in love 'till now 
I never expected or wanted to be 
Sometimes these things happen, but how 
Oh how I could do that, I'll just never see 

I suppose I thought you wouldn't know, 
I didn't think that I'd get caught 
I surely didn't think you'd go,
But mostly I just don't think I thought. 

Never--never--never again, 
Will I hurt you the way that I hurt you then 
The question now is: Will you forgive me?

© Bridget McKinney, 1998

Subject: SB: Naturally Sweet by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Oct 10 - 01:44 AM

Naturally Sweet by reggie miles

Got a little baby and she's so very sweet.
A pretty little honey and she's so very sweet.
Every time I turn around
I got cavities in my teeth.

My dentist bills are gettin' oh so very high.
I'm takin' novacaine to ease my pain
but the pain's insane and that's no lie.
I've got gold fillin' up the holes in my teeth,
'cause my baby's kind o' lovin' is so natchrally sweet

Chorus:
She's so, na-tur-al-ly, na-tur-al-ly, sweet sweet
na-tur-al-ly, na-tur-al-ly, sweet sweet
na-tur-al-ly, na-tur-al-ly, sweet sweet
na-tur-al-ly, na-tur-al-ly,
I've got gold fillin' up the holes in my teeth,
because my baby's kind o' lovin' is so natchrally sweet.

I've tried Aim, Gleem and even Crest,
Colgate, Pepsodent and all the rest.
I am confessin' that her confection,
is the reason for my affection.
Oh mister dentist man, please be kind,
just another whiff o' nitrous and I'll be fine.

(Chorus)

They took honey from the bee,
sugar from the cane, mixed 'em both together
and that's her claim to fame.
Even saccharin and aspertame,
no, they can't hold a candle, cuz she can't be beat.
My baby's kind o' lovin' is so natchrally sweet.

(repeat chorus)

© Reggie Miles

Subject: SB: My Mother's Garden by Jeri
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:26 AM

My Mother's Garden by Jeri
(To hear the tune, click here)

Jeri's Comments:  (This song) the song was about Bet's memories of her and Katlaughing's mother. Yes, it does involve memories of my own mother, but Bet's original words (see the "Song for My Mom" thread) called those forth. I don't think I'd be wrong to say Bet's words touched a lot of people.

I wish I had a song for Mom.
Of joy and life and laughter
Of how springtime follows winter
Now and ever after.

My mom cared for my garden when she moved in with me
I was glad to let her do it, I couldn't keep up with the weeds
Sometimes, I would come home to find she'd been working in the flowers
Weeding here, planting there for untold peaceful hours.

It was a good flower bed, and the sun it shone on all
And people always noticed it when e'er they came to call
Today I cleaned her garden, in quiet happy toil
And sowed some seeds of her beloved wildflowers in the soil.

She'd dug up all the irises, one day when I came home
I complained they were the one thing that could manage on their own
She smiled and said that they'd come back, for Iris always do
And I held my tongue, for mother always knew.

Last year there were no irises, and mother too had passed
I thought she'd been wrong to believe the fragile flowers could last
But this morning as I cleared debris from last year, past and gone
I found them sprouting once again, tiny, sure and strong.

And she wanted only one thing the night before she died
She wanted me to take her home, but this one thing was denied
I regret I tried to hold her here, I wanted her to stay
But she knew her time had come, only "goodbye" left to say.

But this morning in the garden, she told me she'd come home
And she would always be with me, I'd never be alone
In the garden, I will know she's there and everything's alright
In the garden, I will feel her love as the flowers feel the light.

I wish I had a song for Mom
Of joy and life and laughter
Of how springtime follows winter
Now and ever after.

Subject: SB: My Grandfather Hated The Germans by Micca
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:25 AM

My Grandfather Hated The Germans by Micca


Micca's Comments:  As a reaction to the "Green fields of France" and all those deaths in the first world war, this is a song about my grandad who did come back; all the places are real and the events are surreal.  The tunes are mostly Tom Paxton's "Jimmy Newman" for the verses and "Dinah and her Villikins" for the limericks.  Hope you like it.

My Grandfather hated the Germans 
And when asked why this was his retort 
There were too many snipers 
In the Salient at Wipers 
Trying to cut my life short

(Verse 1)
He went out to France in 1915 
A man with the Connaught Rangers 
To fight with the Kaiser who he'd never seen 
And in the defence of some strangers 
But the times they were hard there was no work around 
And the Army gave cash in your fist 
You didn't need much yourself, it was "all found" 
So Grandfather went to enlist 

My Grandfather hated the Germans 
And when asked why this was his retort 
There were too many mines 
Underground at Messines 
Trying to cut my life short 

(Verse 2)
He slogged up to Arras with rifle and pack 
With thousands of mates going to work 
And was one of the hundred that made the walk back 
When the mincing machine'd done its work 
They were pulled from the line to a place called Maubeuge 
A village not far from the lines 
Where Grandad discovered that Boutel Vin Rouge 
Was the way that the French ordered wine

My Grandfather hated the Germans 
And when asked why this was his retort 
There were too many Krauts 
With noses like snouts 
Trying to cut my life short

(Verse 3)
He stayed pissed as a ferret while they formed a new squad 
Out of outfits that were cut to pieces 
And he ran a card school teaching green as the sod 
Young men how to grow new fleeces 
Then the Somme came along on a fine summer day 
And he's nicked by a bullet quite early 
And a nose full of gas kept him out of the way 
As his unit was mown like the barley

My Grandfather hated the Germans 
And when asked why this was his retort 
There were too many Junkers 
Sitting in bunkers 
Trying to cut my life short

(Verse 4)
He's out of the line for a year in support 
Training young men how to die 
And how to stay fit and to enjoy your sport 
But never to ask yourself why 
He kept himself alive until 1918 
Tho' around him the shells skip and dance 
But was buried alive in a dugout latrine 
By a shell in the German advance

My Grandfather hated the Germans 
And when asked why he said it was fit 
With the war nearly done 
A shell from a Hun 
Dropped me up to my neck in the dirt

My Grandad went off to the fighting 
But survived and came back to us all 
He loved Mozart and Bach 
Wagner , Mahler and Sachs 
But he didn't like Germans at all! 

Michael A. Patterson

Subject: SB: My Cookie Is Corrupt! by The Crazy Bird
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:24 AM

My Cookie Is Corrupt! by The Crazy Bird
(Tune:  "My Old Man's a Dustman" as sung and assembled by Lonnie Donegan)

TCB's Comments:  I started my 'puter this morning and it said: "Your cookie is corrupt" -- the reason I guess is that I signed on at work also y'day, or maybe some other reason, but it tickled my fancy to think that my "cookie was corrupt" -- I've been accused of a lot of things, but never that!  Anyways -- I got a long drive to work in the morning, so I made this up while waiting for the traffic to move:

When I woke up this morning,
     with nothing else to do,
I thought I'd go to the "Mudcat"
     and check out what was new.
I booted my computer,
     I got my browser up...
But when I pushed the button
     -- my COOKIE WAS CORRUPT!

All day, I've gone 'round mumbling,
     "My God, what shall I do!"
I've heard of cookies crumbling,
     but can this be true?
I know I was connected,
     and there was coffee in my cup.
But when I pushed the button
     -- my COOKIE WAS CORRUPT!

Some folks will go to heaven,
     the rest will go to hell;
Just which will host the most,
     it's kind of hard to tell...
The only thing I need to know,
     when my time is up,
Is: no one's gonna tell me --
     "your COOKIE IS CORRUPT!"

I've been living in this world
     for nearly sixty years
I've shared a little heartache,
     I've choked back some tears
I've seen both sides and there's been times
     I've thought, "I've seen enough!"
Believe me man, it hits the fan
     when your COOKIE IS CORRUPT!

© Chuck Cliff (2001)

Subject: SB: Mustang Ranch Blues by harpgirl
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:23 AM

Mustang Ranch Blues by harpgirl


I ain't gonna walk no more honey
I ain't gonna walk no more
I walk all night to bankroll your ride
I ain't gonna walk no more

I ain't gonna feather your nest no more
I ain't gonna be your show
I walk all night sellin my pride
I ain't gonna walk no more

No sugar daddy saved me from this strife
A tainted maiden all my life
I ain't gonna walk no more

Won't see me walkin by the mainstreet light
No more by the moonlight hitchin a ride
I ain't gonna walk no more

I'll pack my paint and my satin dress
Quit this town I'm goin out west
Find me a cowboy
Put him to the test
I ain't gonna walk no more

You got one less pony in your corral
I'm goin out West and I'm gonna raise hell
I ain't gonna walk no more

Subject: SB: Mudcat Cafe Number 61 by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:21 AM

Mudcat Cafe Number 61 by Amos

Amos' Comments:  With glad heart, and great reverence, I dedicate that song to Big Joe King, a man to whom we all carry a great debt, for the placing of incredibly precious things in incredibly precious places at just the needed time . . . here's to you Big Joe -- I am grateful for what you have done.

Oh God told Maxwell, "Build me a Site!" 
Max says, "Chill, I been drinkin' all night" 
God say, "Tough." Max say, "What?" 
God say, "You can do what you want Max, but 
Just don't come knocking at no Pearly Gate!" 
Well Max says, "Just what d'ye want this site to say?" 
God says, "Let's just call it Mudcat Cafe."

Well Old Man Spaw he had a bloody nose 
Stuck in a ward with paper-towel clothes 
He asked the doctors, where can I go 
Doctor said there's only one place I know 
Where they'll still love you, when you're old and gray... 
Spaw sez, "Quick, man, show me the way!" 
Doc says, "It's down at the Mudcate Cafe".

Well Rick the Field said to Big Joe King, 
I got forty second-hand folkies who cain't sing 
And a ream of old Gibsons with broken strings 
Do you know where I can get rid of these things? 
And Big Joe said let me think if there ain't some way... 
And he hands old Rick a blue clicky piece of Cleigh 
"Just take it all down to that Mudcate Cafe".

Now the fifteenth newbie on the fortieth thread 
Said the jargon was gettin' stuck in her head 
And the Songbook scansion was ruining her night! 
So Troll said come here and step into the light... he says hmm you're right 
Let me tell the Gaelic Goddess, she'll make it all OK, 
But the Gaelic Goddess, she was having her way 
With a sad-eyed poet out at the Mudcat Cafe. 

Subject: SB: Move on Down the Line by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:20 AM

Move on Down the Line by The Shambles


I got to move on, down the line
What's yours is yours, what's mine is mine
There's nothing left, but the lying
Move on down the line

This train we're riding, has reached the end
And it's no good to pretend
We were walking, hand in hand
Into some Promised Land

So long, I won't forget you
But, I never was 'gonna' let you
Tie me up and settle me down
Nothing's lost, nothing's found

The story ends, it's had it's time
And if you look, I'll think you'll find
The bottle's empty, we drunk it dry
There's no need to cry

This dog is happy, it's had it's day
There's really nothing more to say
No need to cut up, don't howl the moon
We don't sing the same tune

No need to tell me, I'm no good
I just thought, you understood
Just like the wind, needs to blow
I've 'gotta' go

Roger Gall

Subject: SB: Morning Has Broken by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:19 AM

Morning Has Broken by Mbo
(Words by Mbo, Tune - Traditional)

Morning has broken, sunlight is shining
Over the Highlands, Highlands so dear
The rocks and the forests and the lochs shining
Awaken and welcome the day with good cheer

See how the thrush sings out from the holly
His warbling whistle so clear and sweet
As if to bring the day with his singing
To call the sun out of slumbering sleep

White are the mainsails, tall are the mastheads
The fishing boats rounding the Isle of Skye
Voices are singing out from the mastheads
The Captains are bringing them round for the fry

Sunlight casts shadows on the grey tombstones
Marking our family's ancestors of yore
Mist like old phantoms cover the tombstones
Ghost of the soldiers of centuries of war

Morning has broken over the valley
Home of my true love, with hair dark as night
Lying abed and dreaming of bright things
Like snow on the mountains, glistening white

For Autumn and Winter are the best seasons
Though most things will die, some things stay green
Like the affection 'twixt me and my true love
The warmest the Highlands ever has seen

Morning has broken, sunlight is shining
Over the Highlands, Highlands so dear
The rocks and the forests and the lochs shining
Awaken and welcome the day with good cheer

Matthew Richards (1998)

Subject: SB: Moon on the Hill by Amos Jessup
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:18 AM

Moon on the Hill (For Áine and the Cookes)
Words and music by A. H. Jessup
©2001, Amos H. Jessup

Amos' Comments:  For those of you who recall Aine's distress and delight at acquiring her new home the following little house warming gift will be understandable. It captures the important parts of the deal which may have been overlooked in the flurry of making minor adjustments to pipes and such:

The bluebirds of Texas fly down with the dawn,
Coming West from Jeanette, and the place I was born
Crossing over wide waters by Pickett and Roane,
Far away from the bayous I used to call home.

And for all their far travels, they know they are bound
To the place where the heavens reach clear to the ground
Where their dreams have recalled them, and call them there still
To the wild Texas oaks by the Moon on the Hill.

             I have seen it in dreams, by the fireside glow,
            Where the children are playing,  and the bluebonnets grow,
            And when I am old, they will call me there still,
            I was born to come home to the Moon on the Hill.

I was born in French quarters where the bayou runs by
But I've dreamed of a castle since before I was five
Where sweet evening primroses nod in the shade
And the old roses climb from the Wild Texas sage.

I have dallied in Dallas, where the going was hard,
In Springhill, Montalba, and Blackfoot and Ward
Up at Cherokee Landing, and the Big Sandy stream,
But they none of them sang like the song in my dreams...

          I have seen it in dreams, by the fireside glow,
          Where the children are playing,  and the bluebonnets grow,
          And when I am old, they will call me there still,
          For I was born to come home to the Moon on the Hill.

It has taken forever, it seems, I am sure
For the scars and the struggles  of hard times to cure
But love worked its magic, as love often will
And we all found our way to the Moon on the Hill.

There were Indian paintbrush in the hard Texas ground,
And the soft blackeyed susan which grew all around,
And the  winds bring the smell of the daisies across
Through the lamb's-ear and mint, and the old Irish moss.

          I have seen it in dreams, by the fireside glow,
          Where the children are playing, and the bluebonnets grow,
          And when I am old, they will call me there still,
          For I was born to come home to the Moon on the Hill.

A light heart lives long, 'twas my ancestors said,
And I know in my heart, as I lay down my head,
That the hard days are over, though work there is still,
And I know we will flower at Moon on the Hill.

And the songs by the fire and the soft Texas breeze
Will bring us again to the old maple trees,
Though we cross the wild oceans, and nations and plains,
'Tis the Moon on the Hill that will call us again.

             I have seen it in dreams, by the fireside glow,
             Where the children are playing, and the bluebonnets grow,
             And when I am old, they will call me there still,
             For I was born to come home to the Moon on the Hill
             I was born to come home to the Moon on the Hill.

Love,  A.

Subject: SB: Mood Swings by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:16 AM

Mood Swings by Amergin

Happiness....

He stands before the audience
Reciting scattered rhymes
Leaning into the microphone
And his heart beating in time
A smile grows upon his face
As he steps back to his chair
His cheeks are glowing red
In the artificial glare
Nothing can ruin this day
Nothing can kill this joy
Nothing can bring him tears
For life is to be enjoyed

Anger....

Now he drives that empty road
Heading towards his home
The cold wind beats his face
And his mind begins to roam
Heat flows through his veins
As the anger rises to his head
Frozen fingers grip his skull
And he feels the ire spread
Nothing can bring him peace
Nothing can silence his screams
Nothing can ease the hatred
As he watches his headlights gleam

Sadness....

He steps into his sleeping house
And heads for his empty bed
Calling the three dogs to him
With a voice as broken as the dead
He lies alone upon the mattress
Tears float easily to his eyes
As he feels a weight upon his back
And his body jolts with his cries
Nothing can make him laugh
Nothing can ease his pain
Nothing can make him smile
As he hears the splattering rain

Happiness....

He sits on his front porch
Laughing with the wind.......

© Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: The Monkey Parade? by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:15 AM

The Monkey Parade? by The Shambles

The Sunday bells would summon
There was none as devout as we
We'd walk all the way from Southwell
Bert, Henry and Me
Tommy would meet us in Weston
Then off to church we'd go
But our thoughts were not on the heavens
More on the place, 'down below'

Bert, Henry, Tommy and me
Off to look for a maid
Roaring like thunder, down Old Hill
To join the Monkey Parade
Strutting like 'swells'
Up and down Fortuneswell
Oh what a sight we made
Glad that Sunday
Was the one day
We joined the Monkey Parade

Us boys in our Sunday finery
Would keep to one side of the street
The girls along with their families
Encouraging smiles, kept discrete
When they walked a few steps
Pretend we were going there too
I wonder whose rules we were playing?
And just who was looking at who?

Bert, Henry, Tommy and me
Off to look for a maid
Roaring like thunder, down Old Hill
To join the Monkey Parade
Strutting like 'swells'
Up and down Fortuneswell
Oh what a sight we made
Glad that Sunday
Was the one day
We joined the Monkey Parade

We've been together a long time
Our birds have flown the nest
Of all the ways to choose a mate
I think ours was the best
For though I had my admirers
May have flirted with a few
I remember those days on the Monkey Parade
When I only had eyes for you

Roger Gall 1997

Subject: SB: Mona Lisa Never Really Smile by MichaelAnthony
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:13 AM

Mona Lisa Never Really Smile by MichaelAnthony

Well the moon and I were married
In a ceremony shaded
By an ancient Savannah storm
Throughout the honeymoon we carried
Seeds of oak trees to be buried
At the first site of darker soil

Climbed the sand dunes by the sea
Where nobody'd ever peeve us And we set up the radio
Our days were wasteful, wild and free
As dangerous as the tumblin sea
But her lips they shone like poetry as she sang this song for me:

MONA LISA NEVER SMILE
An Da Vinci never do fly
The Shakers they all die
Charlie Christian never sack the countryside
An although somedays I may hide
And only nighttime will I be your bride
When we're together, you'll never wonder why
Always be your closest shining light

Well it seemed a little scary 
I was never the type to marry 
But my god she satisfied
Every day was dark and gloomy
But the perfume cut right through me
When the sun succomm to night

I climb the sand dunes by the sea
Where nobody'll ever see me And I set up the radio
My nights are wasteful, wild and free
As ominous as the tumblin sea
But everything is clear to me cause she still sings this song for me:

MONA LISA NEVER SMILE
An Da Vinci never does fly
The Shakers they all die
Jimi Hendrix only get to kiss the sky
An although somedays I may hide
And only nighttime will I be your bride
When we're together, you'll never wonder why
Always be your closest shining light

Now the moon and I we wonder 
Why everyday it isn't thunder
And a cracking of the earth
But we try-and-get-by for what it's worth
Cause tonight another virgin birth

MONA LISA NEVER REALLY SMILE
An Da Vinci never does fly
The Shakers they all die
Jimi Hendrix only get to kiss the sky
An although somedays I may hide
And only nighttime will I be your bride
When we're together, you'll never wonder why
Always be your closest shining light

Subject: SB: Molly Malone (Cockles and Mussels)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:12 AM

Molly Malone (Cockles and Mussels) {additional verses in bold/italics by Sarah2}
(Traditional)

Sarah2's Comments:  I do additional verses now and again . . . For example, I like to get the sots singing along on "Molly Malone" about this time of year, but it's so short that it's over by the time they get really going on it. So I added a couple of verses . . .

In Dublin's fair city,
Where girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
As she pushed a wheelbarrow
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o!"

Refrain:
Alive, alive-o, alive, alive-o!
Cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o!

She were dainty and lissome,
With a smile shy and winsome,
And about her hung the fragrance of salmon and roe,
As she danced her wheelbarrow
'Round the streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussles, alive, alive-o!"

(Refrain)

She was a fishmonger,
And, sure, 'twas no wonder,
For so were her father and mother before.
The each wheeled a 'barrow
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o!"

(Refrain)

All the lads would come courtin'
But Molly swore sportin'
Were better than a husband, bringin' worries and woe.
She said, "I'd rather me 'barrow
Make a bed neat and narrow,
'Midst me cockles and mussles, alive, alive-o!"

(Refrain)

She died of a fever,*
And no one could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
Now her ghost wheels her 'barrow
Through the streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o!"

(Refrain)

*sung as "fay-ver"

Subject: SB: Men Get The Blues, Women See Red by Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:11 AM

Men Get The Blues, Women See Red by The Shambles

Men get the blues, women see red
They'll go a long way just to cut you dead
It's not what you thought, it's about what you said
Not what you do, it's what's in your head

Men stick to subject, women seldom do
What you know for a fact, ends up not being true
A different species, not a different point of view
While you're talking on the subject, she's talking about you

Men don't remember, women never forget
Those throwaway remarks, you'll learn to regret
Though built in clay, now in stone are set
Becomes stored dynamite and it's starting to sweat

Men get mad, women get even
Think you've got away with your deceiving?
Listens to your story, appears to be believing
When she's packed your bags and you're already leaving

Men know what they're saying, women know what men mean
It's one or the other, nowhere in between
They know where you're going and know where you've been
The all knowing, all seeing, all feeling female machine

Men learn to fight, women just know it
Brave warriors true, though they might not show it
Never strike above the belt but always below it
They choose the blows well, while men just 'blow it'

Men see a battle, women know it's a war
Know the terms of engagement and lay down the law
They're linesman and judge and they're keeping the score
We know we are beaten, ……….but still come back for more?

© Roger Gall 2001

Subject: SB: The Memories Stay by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:09 AM

The Memories Stay by Amergin
(Tune: Water is Wide)

Amergin's Comments:  I wrote this song originally for my friend, Shaz, who lost her brother in the terrorist attack in Bali. The only way they were able to identify him was through DNA testing. But really, I think this is for everyone who has lost someone through senseless acts of violence, such as terrorism and war. This is by no means for those who died or will die, but for those left behind. They are the ones still carrying the burden of pain.

There is a candle it burns right well
Shining bright in my heart it dwells
But the wind it came strong and stout
And blew that bright burning candle out

My heart stopped beating when the phone rang
I heard the news as the salt tears sang
The blast it shook me to the bone
For now he'll never be coming home

I see him coming through the door
I hear his steps stomp across the floor
I hear his voice whisper soft and clear
As my fingers feel my hot wet tears

In the window a candle burns bright
Calling him home in the dark night
The pain may fade as the years go by
But the memories stay in my heart nearby

Copyright ©2002 Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Memories of Heaven by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:08 AM

Memories of Heaven by Amergin

He walks down the park trails
His fingers entwined in her hand
The creek bounces among the rocks
Grinding the stones to sand
They sit on a picnic table
Staring into each other's eyes
The tips of their tongues meet
His hands upon her thighs

They lie together in the bed
Her head lying upon his chest
Her hands running through his fur
He caresses the softness of her breast
He watches the candlelight
Sparkle the blue in her hazel eyes
The shadows flicker across her face
He sees her lips so slowly rise

She sits across the table from him
Her tears softly leak down her cheeks
His heart goes heavy, he reaches for her
She flinches back and begins to speak
"I don't know what I'm going to do.
I don't know whether to stay or leave."
"Please, stay with me," he quietly pleads
As he wipes his face with his sleeve

He lies in his bed with three dogs
Remembering her warmth against him
Remembering the soft touch of her hair
Remembering the smoothness of her skin
The gentle pressure of her silky lips
The soothing stroke of her hand
The loving entangle of their legs
His tender claims and her fond demands

Subject: SB: Master Of The Stars by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:07 AM

Master Of The Stars by Mbo

Welcome aboard! What a surprise!
This is the starship Enterprise
I am Picard, ready to serve
How would you like to try an hors d'oevre?
Would you like a trip 'round the Fleet's flagship?
Here's a napkin from the Captain and a tip (bum bum bum)

Master of the stars, keeper of the ship

I get in so much danger that you'll prob'ly flip
Pulling on my shirt is what I like to do
Makes me feel important and inspiring, too.
Can you sense the rising pressure? When we go to warp-speed eight
Sure we could go slower, but who wants to go at such a rate?

Master of the stars, bloke who's in command
Ruling on the bridge with an iron hand
Sit down Number One! I can't even think!
(A problem with the sensors and he makes a stink!)
Data won't fire those phasers at that little plantet's sun?
I'm so bloody bored, all day long I've chored
I just want to have a little fun!

Master of the stars! Galaxy's my home!
A hundred million places for this ship to roam!
Glowing warp nacelles make us go and come
As long as we have lots of fresh dilithium!
Some stuff on this ship is destined
To sit in dust, and rust, and rot
Can you say exactly when you've ever seen the Captain's Yacht?

Now what was that the Doctor had said?
Something about a smashed bio-bed?
Down in Sick Bay, it's a big bore
Analyses will make you snore!
My hands I wish could lay on a hypospray
Raising heck around the deck, and then I'd say:

Hey there, Mister Worf! You brute! Take this! Take this!
Next time shooting Romulans you will not miss!
Take this little Wes! You're really quite a pest!
Never contradict me, or you'll face arrest!
Geordie--let us go much faster! This speed's unsatisfactory!
Pump up those big engines--I want to see Warp 23!

Take a ride in space? Whatever you say, sir!
Tonight we've got a rendezvous with Voyager!
A little change of scene is just what I mean
Visiting the places where I've never been
Right into the Delta Quadrant, right into the Kazon's lair
We'll give them all a present that will make them lose their ugly hair!

Every once in a while, there will be a day
When I want to transport to a rugby game!

Master of the stars! Tooting on my flute!
Annoying all my neighbors like a knavish snoot!
But still I'm going bald (for reasons unresolved)
My fish's a lot of fun, his name is Livingston
There is no one bigger in hist'ry, and you may regard
Me as the greatest ever--Captain Jean-Luc Picard!

Drink to me with hot Earl Grey!
There's one thing I'd like to say!
I'm cooler than Mars, yes I'm the master of the stars!

© Matthew Richards, 1996

Subject: SB: Mary's Knocking Shop by KingBrilliant
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:06 AM

 Mary's Knocking Shop by KingBrilliant
(The tune should be sort of Irishy and rhythmic)

KingBrilliant's Comments:  Mary's knocking shop is about my next-door neighbour. She is a lovely elderly lady of whom we are very fond. We were puzzled about one thing though. We would often hear a persistent knocking through the walls of our terraced house, and couldn't imagine what she was up to. We called it Mary's knocking shop. When eventually we asked her she explained that she was taking work home - putting staples into notebooks etc for a small stationery company. Anyway here's what my imagination cooked up . .

You could hear Mary knocking all the night and all the day
And its knocking so hard that drives the devil away
When she strikes up a rhythm you never want to stop
Since Mary took to business in a little knocking shop

The first time that we heard it we were sitting down to tea
Says I to me feller whatever can that be
Would you knock around the door and take a look and see
Says he its Mary Livingstone a-knocking back at me

You could hear Mary knocking all the night and all the day
And its knocking so hard that drives the devil away
When she strikes up a rhythm you never want to stop
Since Mary took to business in a little knocking shop

The local beat policeman went a knocking on the door
Says he Mary Livingstone what are you knocking for
Are you kocking on the ceiling or a-knocking on the floor
Jump up Mary Livingstone and knock a little more

You could hear Mary knocking all the night and all the day
And its knocking so hard that drives the devil away
When she strikes up a rhythm you never want to stop
Since Mary took to business in a little knocking shop

On Sunday night the parson well he had a pious thought
For to save poor Mary's mortal soul just as a parson ought
Now Mary you must leave off all your knocking and your sport
Says she that's just me wooden leg, what was it that you thought?

You could hear Mary knocking all the night and all the day
And its knocking so hard that drives the devil away
When she strikes up a rhythm you never want to stop
Since Mary took to business in a little knocking shop

© Kristin King (May 2001)

Subject: SB: Mary Ann's Walla Walla Woman Blues by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:05 AM

Mary Ann's Walla Walla Woman Blues by Amos
(Words and music by Amos Jessup, dedicated to Mary Ann)

Amos' Comments:  This song was commissioned by our own MAG in exchange for some support flow to the Mudcat, as promised on a couple of threads.  It is a slow, rolling barrel-house blues reminiscent of Bessie Smith's "Pigfoot and a Bottle of Beer", or her "Ain't Done Runnin' Around" blues.  Dedicated to Mary Ann, and to women everywhere who wish men could be just a little different... Affectionately, Amos


E~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
You know, flakie cats just want to stone you 
B7~~~~~~~~ 
And big cowboys they just want to own you 
A~~~~~~~~~~~A7 
For a reg'lar jelly  roll 
~~C#m~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
And the losers want you to roll them 
~~C#7~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
And beg you to control them 
F#7~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~F#6~~~~~~~~~~~~~B7~~ 
And grind 'em til they find they souls , oh, 
E~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~E7 
I 'm not about to start contraction 
B~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~B7~~~~~~ 
From a masculine reaction 
~~~~~~~~C#m~~~~~~~~~G#7~~~~~~A~~ 
Cuz I'm a real woman right down to my shoes, 
A7~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
But I'm getting those 
E7~~~~~~~~~~C#7 
Walla Walla's wasting 
F#7~~~~~~B7~~B7aug(?) E 
A Walla Walla Woman blues 

Big bikers want to play you 
And maybe want to flay you 
Hey, wouldn't you rather burn a bra? 
Then the SNAGS want easy living 
Got no-o-o sense of rhythm 
And can't figure out just who they really are 
Mister big iron pumper 
Got a motion, like a bumper 
Ain't got enough plain soul to shine my shoes 

But I'm gettin' those 
Walla Walla's wastin' 
A Walla Walla Women blues. 

Bridge: 
~~~~~G#7~~~~~~~~~C#m 
I like to do that hootchie kootchie thing 
~~~~~G#7~~~~~~~~~~C#m 
But no-one here to kootchie me 
~~~~~~F#~~~~~~~~F#7 
I like to run a nice strong coffee grinder 
~~~~~~~~B~~~~~~~~~Bm~~~~~~~~B7~~~~~~~ 
And the men around here drink tea, cold tea, oh 

I got three hot kitties 
Begging, pretty pretty, 
Just to go out on the town at night 
Jes' see how they carry on 
Hear them whine an' moan 
They don' believe its right 
Sometimes I turn a my back 
And they slip through a crack 
And those pussies down town 
Get more than I do 

Leaves me them 
Walla Walla's wastin' 
A Walla Walla Women blues. 

Bridge: 
~~~~~G#7~~~~~~~~~C#m 
I'm not not excessively demanding 
~~~~~G#7~~~~~~~~~C#m 
That's no way for a good woman to be 
~~~~~F#~~~~~~~~F#7 
All I want is some plain understanding 
~~~~~~~B~~~~~~~~~Bm~~~~~~~~B7~~~~~~~ 
And some con-geni-ality, Oh, 

I don't want a man on booze 
They always seem to lose 
Except for that one out Chicago way 
Cuz I can still recall 
He would play that Cannonball 
And that was what he did to steal 
My heart away 
I'm gonna move it, yes move it 
Til someone finds that groove, 
Go out in whitebread city and cruise 
Gonna shake them Walla Walla.... 
Wasting a Walla Walla.... 
A Walla Walla Woman Blues....oh, yes. 

Subject: SB: Marilee by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:04 AM

Marilee by MMario
(For the tune, click here)

I met her first in springtime
and she was more then fair
The flowers that bloom in springtime
with her could not compare
Her lips were rich as honey
Her kisses sweet as wine
No sky so blue in springtime
As the blue that was her eyes

But no more will I see, my sweet Marilee
'til the day we're together, once more.

Her hair was golden as the grain
Her skin as white as milk
Her gentle touch, upon my cheek,
As soft as rarest silk
Her ev'ry word a jewel, her voice an angel song
And so in love, we wandered
For all that summer long

But no more will I see, my sweet Marilee
'til the day we're together, once more.

At harvest time before the priest
we two were made as one
And with our friends we feasted
Until the rising sun
Her smile brought forth the sunshine
Her laugh the welkin rung
Before that night had ended
Our family was begun

But no more will I see, my sweet Marilee
'til the day we're together, once more.

The winter days are short and cold
But our nights were long and warm
and in the circle of my arms
I sheltered her from harm
For two score year I loved her well
and loved her more each day
But alas, there came a springtime
When my love she went away

But no more will I see, my sweet Marilee
For she's passed through Death's wide open door.

I saw her last in springtime
And she was still most fair
But the flowers that bloomed that springtime
We scattered o'er her bier
Our children and their children too
Were with me on that day
And the heavens wept, along with us
As we sent my love away.

But no more will I see, my sweet Marilee
For she's passed through Death's wide open door.
Now she sleeps, safe and sound
Six feet under the ground
'Til the day we're together, once more.

Subject: SB: Margaret's Song by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:02 AM

Margaret's Song by Amos

Amos' Comments:  Margaret will be 80 in April. In her life she has made of herself a remarkable person, a skilled carpenter, a sharpshooter, an accomplished computer guru, jeweler par excellence, a first-rate cook and charming hostess, a law-enforcement officer, an artist of life. This is a small token of appreciation for someone who constantly brightens the corner where she is and shows the world what it means to live with genuine style.

(Presto)                                                                                
G~~~~~~~~~~~~~~D~~~~~~~~~~~G~~~~~~~~C
From a baby in a cradle to a beautiful wife
G~~~~~~~~~C~~~~~~~~~~~D~~~~~~~~
To a senior senorita with a passion for life
G~~~~~~~~~~~~~~D~~~~~~~~~~~G~~~~~~~~C
Well it isn?t that she hasn?t had her share of tears
G~~C~~~~~~~~~Am~~~~~~~~~~~D~~~~G
But she doesn?t need to carry them across the years
Em~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~B7
And isn?t it amazing how some folks get along
Em~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~D
They make things right when they all seem wrong
G-Em~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~C
And if you ever wonder how she grew so strong
Em~~Am~D~~~~~~~G
This is Margaret 's song:

(Lente)
C~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~D
Oh, the secret of the living
G~~~~~~~~EM
Is always in the giving
Em~~~~~Am~~~~~~~~~D        
And the giving keeps on going
G~~~~~~~~~~EM~~~~
On and on, on and on
C~~~~~~~~~~~~~~D
Yes the answer to the living
G~~~~~~~~~EM
Is always in the giving
Am~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~D
And her giving keeps on going
D7~~~~~G
On and on.


Well it isn't always easy chasing round the sun
Keeping up with the clock can keep you on the run
And it's kind of a mystery, and that's for true
How some can act as happy as they do
Well you just gotta wonder where the secret lies
Years never dim the sparkle in their eyes
And if your inclination is to wonder "why?"
Then think on Margaret's song:

(Cho)

No, it isn't in the doing and it isn't in the trying
It isn't in the showing or the shopping or the frying
And it isn't in the dressing or the howdy-do
Ya gotta learn the lesson 'cuz you know its true
It's a funny little lesson, it'll work for you,
Its why they've got the get-up for the things they do
And if you find your heart is feeling this way too --
Sing them Margaret's song

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:01 AM

Space-filler - to accommodate mistakes...

Subject: SB: Marching with King by InOBU
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Oct 10 - 02:01 AM

Marching with King by InOBU
(Words-Lorcan Otway / Tune, for now, Mandella by Hannon?)

I marched with King in Selma, so I'm getting on in years
But I still recall the hopes we had in spite of all our fears
I still can hear the barking dogs and often in the night
I recall how we gently marched when we were justified to fight

We marched for voting rights and so others would be free
While some kept from basic rights, who could live comfortably
We faced the southern sheriffs and the banal Ku Klux Klan
to carry the light of human right to each corner of the land

Then the Viet Nam war began and we were marching as before
While tens of thousand lives were lost we walk to end a war
And many vets marched with us and were welcomed home again
while the government who sent them off ignored their cries of pain

And now the government is marching us again to war
and people are gathering to march just as before
but Bloomberg and Judge Barbara Jones conspired in this night
To stop Americans marching and destroy this sacred right

General Nathan Bedford Forrest gave the world the Ku Klux Klan
Sheriff Clark and Governor Maddox kept slave chains in this land
And now to this list of shame two more names must appear
Mayor Bloomberg and Judge Jones who've sold their nation out to fear

Subject: SB: Lullaby for A Borrowed Child by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:57 AM

Lullaby for A Borrowed Child or The Uncle's Lament by MMario


Hush now, little child
You're safe here in my arms
There's nothing here can harm you
I'll shelter you from harm

I wonder can your parents know
What they have shared with me?
It sets my soul to singing
The wonder that is thee

Soon I must return you
In a moment, mayhaps two
My arms will surely miss this weight
They've grown accustomed to....

Some day if I am lucky
Another child I'll hold
One neither begged nor borrowed
But a child of my own

Until that day shall come to pass
Or if it never does
I'll take these moments granted me
To share and care with love

Hush now, little child
I know that you're not mine
So let my love enfold you
While I still have this time

Soon I must return you
Just a moment, perhaps two
My arms will sorely miss the weight
They've grown accustomed to....

Hush now, little child
Rest and peaceful be
and may you always know such joy
As you have given me.

Subject: SB: Louisiana Bound by harpgirl
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:55 AM

Louisiana Bound by harpgirl

harpgirl's Comments:  I wrote this while I lived in Arkansas in 1978. Bill Clinton was a peckerwood, even then . . . influenced by Lucinda Williams who was in Fayetteville at the time.


I'm going down south where the Cajuns go
Gonna poll a piroux down the ole' bayou
Gonna find me a handsome delta boy
In old Lake Charles or Atchfalaya Bayou

Gonna find me a handsome delta boy
I hear they like to laugh and dance all day
Dance a two-step or a Cajun stomp
I'm gonna do the Louisiana romp

These hillbilly boys in Arkansas
Can't play the fiddle or the old squeeze box
They work all day and sleep all night
Saturday night they're out lookin for a fight

They don't dance and they don't sing
I'm going to Monroe or maybe Ponchartrain
Dance around that sparklin lake
Eatin creole and dancing with a Cajun rake

Watch out Opalousa boys
This hillbilly mama gonna show you
What I can't teach the Arkansas boys
We'll make sweet music by a moonlit bay
Laugh and dance and sing the Creole night away

I'll roll on down through Hot Springs town
Tell Billy Clinton I'm Cajun bound
Pack my dancin shoes and my hillbilly tricks
Gonna show them Cajun boys some hillbilly licks

Going down south where the cajuns go
Gonna poll the piroux on the ole' bayou

Subject: SB: Lough Neagh by InOBU
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:54 AM

Lough Neagh by InOBU
(Words Lórcan Otway; Tune General Monroe (Munroe)/Sally Monroe (Munroe) (Depending what foot you dig with ;-) -- Traditional)

Come all ye good people, who toil on the land
and attend to these verses, that you might understand
how an ancient injustice, commenced long ago
still enslaves all the fishers who sail from Ardboe

My name's Brian Hannon, I'm a fisher b' trade
in the town of Ardboe I was born and raised
and well I remember that very first day
that I sailed with my father to fish on Lough Neagh

How bitter for Ulster was fifteen ninety-four
for the loss of our land after the nine year war
Tyrone, Tyrconnell, and McQuire swept away
While our forefathers clung on to harvest Lough Neagh

What cold hearted nation, could remember with pride
the slaughter of parents with babes by their side
When Arthur Chitchester despoiled Lough Neagh's shore
enslaving the fisherfolk, there evermore

All around Dungannon, whole families he slew
he burned all the crops and wee cottages too,
while no reparations could this injustice repay
his descendants extort rent from us to this day

Now we toil on these waters unjust rent to pay
to Anthony Cooper, who now claims Lough Neagh
We toil that he might give one million pounds
to his gold digging third wife is she pouts or frowns

Now pollution has darkened the waters we need
for no absentee land lord could e're fully heed
the loving concern that it takes everyday
to preserve the sweet gifts of our treasure, Lough Neagh

For these waters we love, for they've given us life
Its the love that a man only feels for his wife
for these waters have fed us from our people's first day
we're as wed to these waters as the fish of Lough Neagh

Copyright ©2002 by Larry Otway

Subject: SB: Lord Bartock, Lady Clare and Locklan
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:53 AM

Lord Bartock, Lady Clare and Locklan (The Locksmith) by Spider Tom

Dm C Dm
(1) Dm Gm A7 Dm
Lord Bartock called his Lady Clare, said "I must go away.
Gm A7 Dm
I will grab my sword and shield, I'm off to the crusades.
Gm Dm
I have a little gift for you as I'm gone day and night,
Gm A7 Dm
A gold and felt, chas-ti-ty belt, will help you sleep real tight."

(2) Dm Gm A7 Dm
Now, Lady Clare was none too keen, to wear the golden locks, 
Gm A7 Dm
But Bartock was a jealous type, and Lady Clare, a Fox . 
Gm Dm
Though she did plead, he paid no heed, to treat her with suspicion ,
Gm A7 Dm
So, still he locked her in the belt, to safeguard their partition. 

Chorus:
Gm Dm Gm
Is the keeper, of the key, the master of the heart?
A7 Dm
"All is fair in love and war." He said that at the start.

(3) Dm Gm A7 Dm
Lord Bartock galloped off to war, sword drawn for the fight,
Gm A7 Dm
And Lady Clare would lay awake, and try stray keys at night.
Gm Dm
But ne'er a key did come to hand, to open up her lock,
Gm A7 Dm
And Bartock had the master key, hidden in his sock.

(Chorus)

(4) Dm Gm A7 Dm
One day, fate would have it, 'cause fate's like that for sure,
Gm A7 Dm
Locklan, the mobile locksmith, knocked on the castle door,
Gm Dm
He took pain, to then explain, he'd open any locks,
Gm A7 Dm
Be it on a celler door, or on a jewelled box.

(Chorus)

(5) Dm Gm A7 Dm
Lady Clare, she heard the words that tumbled off his tongue.
Gm A7 Dm
"I bid you, sir, to break the lock, I need to be undone."
Gm Dm 
So he agreed, and did proceed, to pick the lock himself,
Gm A7 Dm
Though he feared, that doing so, could be bad for his health.

(6) Dm Gm A7 Dm
His skillful hands did skate around, like feathers on the lock,
Dm Gm A7 Dm
And Lady Clare, so long untouched, had one or two, small shocks.
Gm Dm
The locksmith man, with steady hands, had soon removed her bounds,
Gm A7 Dm
Just then, Bartock was home from war, Clare heard his barking hounds.

(7) Dm Gm A7 Dm
As Bartock held his key in hand, and aimed it at the door,
Gm A7 Dm
He was knocked down by a cannon-ball, you should have heard him roar.
Gm Dm
And Lady Clare, she said, "Clear off! The locks have all been changed,
Gm A7 Dm
You can't even row the boat, the moat has all been drained."

(8) Dm Gm A7 Dm
"You never cared a fig for me, you just locked me up.
Dm Gm A7 Dm
I cursed you when you went away, I had had enough.
Gm Dm
You can't lock up emotions, you won't try that, no more.
Gm A7 Dm
I'm pushing a Court-Order, underneath the door.
Gm Dm Gm 
Is the keeper of the heart, the master of the key?
A7 Dm
All is fair in love and war, you once said that to me."

(9) Dm Gm A7 Dm
"And I have found another, who is more to please,
Dm Gm A7 Dm
He found a way into my - heart, and didn't need your keys,
Gm Dm
If you feel frustration, as you're strutting, like a cock,
Gm A7 Dm
I'll throw you my chas-ti-tity belt, the key's still in your sock.

(Chorus)

© Ken Robertson 6/4/1998

Subject: SB: Llanfair by Liz the Squeak
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:50 AM

Llanfair by Liz the Squeak
(Tune:  'Linden Lea')

LTS's Comments:  Written after the first "Llanstock"

Within the valley, steeply sided,
Where the Banwy river flows
The Catters meeting, long awaited
Happened ere the winter snows,

And there we were, all gathered round,
With tuneful voice and melodious sound,
We gather here, to share our song,
In Llanfair Caereinion

With voices raised in mirth and greeting,
Music flows and verses sung.
Though strangers we, at our first meeting,
Old friends soon we all become.

And drinks are shared; new jokes are made,
And old familiar tunes are played,
And laughter comes from everyone,
In Llanfair Caereinion.

The Banwy flows, forever onward,
Through the valleys to the sea.
And so the threads of song and music
Joins us all in company

Though we must all our own way go,
Each separate path, or homeward road,
In memory, we all are one,
In Llanfair Caereinion.

Subject: SB: Liverpool Bay by Matthew Edwards
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:49 AM

Liverpool Bay by Matthew Edwards

Matthew's Comments:  This song is about the port of Liverpool where I live, which once thrived on the trade of shipping, including slavery, - it is said that the great mercantile buildings of the city are mortared with the blood of slaves.  It was also the port to which many came from all over Europe; from shtetls in Poland escaping vicious pogroms, from poor farms in Germany, and of course, from a life of poverty and famine in Ireland.   They sailed away down the Mersey to find what fortune awaited them in the New World, but many never even survived the voyage in some of the "coffin" ships.


The ships have gone, that proudly rode the waves,
To trade tobacco, cotton, rum, and slaves.
The ships have gone and sailed away,
No more to ride the waters of the bay.

God speed to those who've gone from here before,
To find their fortunes on a foreign shore;
Their ships have gone and sailed away,
No more to ride the waters of the bay.

Our ship has sailed, out on the evening tide,
Her sails were spread, her banners streaming wide;
And in the dying light of day,
She's slipped the harbour bar, and sailed away.

And while the Mersey's tides still rise and fall,
And Pier Head echoes to a seagull's call:
The ships have gone, and sailed away,
And silent are the waters of the bay.

Coda:
O I thought I heard the captain say,
Leave her, Johnny, leave her,
Go ashore and get your pay,
For its time for us to leave her.

One more pull, and then belay,
Leave her, Johnny, leave her,
We will sail no more in Liverpool Bay,
And its time for us to leave her.

Subject: SB: The Little Family by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:48 AM

The Little Family by McGrath of Harlow
(Tune: Pretty Boy Floyd)

McGrath's Comments:  I wrote this a few years after seeing the paragraph about an incident in Vietnam.  It could have been in so many other wars, before and since.  The number of civilians killed on both sides was far greater than the number of soldiers.  Like in most modern wars.  A wall with all their name on would have to stretch round the world.

A story in the papers, 
just a paragraph or two
but it kept on running through my mind,
so I pass it on to you.

A family going to market, 
in a little cart they ride, 
the father and the mother,
two little children by their side.

And they're off to sell the food they've grown,
and when the day is done
maybe spend a little money,
maybe have a little fun.

And they're talking and they're singing,
planning what they'll do tonight,
and the mother's telling a story,
to keep the little children quiet.

And they're going along so steady -
when there's shooting all round,
and it lays that little family
all dead upon the ground.

And the shooting's quickly over,
just as soon as it's begun.
And the soldiers rise from the bushes
"Oh God, what have we done."

A story in the papers,
just a paragraph or two
but it kept on running through my mind,
is there's nothing I can do?

Kevin McGrath

Subject: SB: Listen To Your Heart by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:45 AM

Listen To Your Heart by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments:  The whispering heart has a double meaning of course.   All kinds of reasons for turning from violence. 


Listen to your heart, 
hear it beating. 
Down there in the dark,
never sleeping.
Through lonely times and homely times,
and times that are so fleeting,
do you dare to listen to your heart?
Do you dare to listen to your heart? 
Can you bear to listen to your heart?
You listen to yourself
when you listen to your heart.
Do you dare to listen to your heart?

Listen to your heart,
can you bear to? 
Down there in the dark
do you dare to?
Through busy times and dizzy times
and times when you are scared to,
O so scared to listen to your heart.
Are you scared to listen to your heart?
Are you scared to listen to your heart?
You listen to yourself
when you listen to your heart.
Do you dare to listen to your heart?

Oh once I wore my heart on my shoulder.
Once I played the part of a soldier -
but now's no time for foolishness,
the time for that is over -
can you hear that whisper in your heart?
Can you hear that whisper in your heart?
Can you hear that whisper in your heart?
You listen to yourself
when you listen to your heart.
Do you dare to listen to your heart?

Listen to your heart,
what it's saying,
down there in the dark,
day out and day in,
through olden days, and golden days,
and days you feel like praying,
can you bear to listen to your heart?
Can you bear to listen to your heart?
Can you bear to listen to your heart?
You listen to yourself
when you listen to your heart.
Do you dare to listen to your heart?

Subject: SB: Listen To Me by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:44 AM

Listen To Me by The Shambles

You listen to the wind,
You listen to the sea.
You even listen to the rain on your window,
Why won't you, listen to me?

You listen to the radio
You listen to your TV
You even listen to, the static,
Why won't you, listen to me?

It's not that what got to say is so profound,
It might be, but if you don't listen to the sound.
If you don't hear the show, you won't know what you're missing,
It's a waste of time you'll find, when nobody listens.

You listen to your walkman,
You listen to your CD.
You even listen to the traffic,
Why won't you listen to me?

You listen to your hair dryer,
You listen to your washing machine.
You even listen to the water in the attic
Why won't you listen to me?

If we get credit for what we have to say?
I would like to suggest another way.
You say, you have the way, you have the vision,
No not you, I'll give it to, the few that will listen.

You've got to listen, to the small print,
Just like you strain, your eyes to see.
Got to listen with, your glasses on,
That's the way I would like you to listen to me.

And I'll try to listen to you,
The way I would like you,
To listen to me.

Listen to me

Roger Gall 1997

Subject: SB: Little Cat by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:43 AM

Little Cat by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments:  This song is a bit long, but it's true.  I don't sing it too often, not with the cynical buggers I tend to hang around with in sessions. But I'm fond of it.  Whether you lose a cat or a person, all loss touches the same place.  And the Cats involved are still with us. 


One is lying by the fireside, 
one is lying by the door.
One is looking out the window. 
Seems Little Cat is gone for sure. 
Lonely days are here once more,
standing at the open door, 
lonely days, and lonely nights 
- seems nothing ever works out right.

On the day we'd planned to collect them 
a message came - they'd run away. 
Mother Cat was tired of kittens, 
she'd led them in the woods to stray.

It seemed we weren't to have those kittens, 
too bad for us, but worse for them. 
Three days, then news we'd hardly hoped for, 
the kittens had come home again. 
Lost there in the woods at midnight, 
tiny balls of fur and bone, 
foxes, dogs and roaring cars - 
God knows how, they'd made it home.

I still remember how we fetched them 
from the farm where they were born. 
Huddled up and lost and lonely, 
clung together to keep warm.

Little Cat and Little Brother, 
she was queen and he was clown, 
All their lives were twined together -
then one morning, she was gone.

Standing at the empty window
like a sentry at his post.
Searching in the empty garden
like a little golden ghost.

We searched around, we climbed the fences, 
asked the neighbours one by one, 
made a notice with a picture - 
nothing more we could have done.
Lonely days are here once more,
standing at the open door, 
lonely days, and lonely nights 
- seems nothing ever works out right.

Sitting looking out the window, 
heard a knocking on the pane, 
heard a noise like someone crying - 
Little Cat came home again.

Times of trial, times of trouble, 
times aren't easy, that's for sure. 
But tonight we're all together, 
Little Cat came home once more.

One is lying by the fireside, 
one is standing by the door, 
one is eating in the kitchen - 
Little Cat is home once more.

Kevin McGrath

Subject: SB: The Lilt Of A Grandmother's Song by bert
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:40 AM

The Lilt Of A Grandmother's Song by bert

Chorus:
In the Lilt of a Grandmother's Song
That's where I learned right from wrong
There were maidens who sighed and martyrs who died
In the Lilt of a Grandmother's Song.

With her silvery hair in her old rocking chair
She sang of a spinning wheel turning
When her son left the shore to return nevermore
She sang of a fond mother's yearning.

Chorus

She sang me to sleep with songs of the deep
St. Brendan who sailed the world over
Of pretty coleens and the smell o' poteen
Gold sovereigns and a wild rover.

Chorus

From the Old Shannon Shore, to the Mountains of Mourne
Songs of laughter and kissing the blarney
Of the Orange and Green and Old Skibbereen
And the hills and the lakes o' Kilarney.

Chorus

Subject: SB: Like The Sea by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:39 AM

Like The Sea by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  The Tall Ships Race was starting locally and my daughter informed us that she was going to leave home and sign on to one of these vessels. In the end she didn't but it did inspire this, which is an adolescent's song to their loved ones.

I've a notion to sail the ocean
And drift where the winds do blow free
Far from the choices and from the voices
That know best, what I should be
I'm like the sea before me
On the surface calm and serene
Who knows what forces and from what sources
Stir in the depths unseen

As I cast off on my journey
What of those who made history?
What advice can be offered
To those who sail uncharted seas

The great adventurers, did not venture
Too far from the virgin shore
They claim their prizes and as the sun rises
They seek more land to explore
I'm like the sea before me
Well charted but still a mystery
I'm not revealing, all that I'm feeling
If you look you may discover me

Maiden voyagers are not fearful
For they don't think that they could fail
You've kept me safe within your harbour
Now it's time to set sail

You may be fearing, this course I'm steering
Will lead me far from your door
When the sounds of goodbye, starts the clouds in your eyes
Remember I couldn't love you more
I'm like the sea before me
My colours change from blue to grey
Windy and wild, or asleep like a child
What mood will I display?

© Roger Gall 1997

Subject: SB: The Last Time by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:35 AM

The Last Time by Amergin

The train slowly shudders to a stop
And we stand there hugging goodbye
The conductor calls the all aboard
I gently part from you with a sigh
I envision your waeary watery eyes
As aboard the train I start to climb
Never knowing, never dreaming
That we have kissed for the last time

I watch you lightly ease into your car
Through the tinted glass by my seat
The train curls down the rusted tracks
I remember your lips so soft and sweet
My closed eyes see the curves of your face
Recalling your beauty so sublime
Never knowing, never dreaming
That we have kissed for the last time

A smile rapidly unfolds across my mouth
Remembering the sweetness of the night before
When we cuddled and made angelic love
And our soft bodies we fondly explored
The train slowly ambles my way back home
And the whistle begins to loudly chime
Never knowing, never dreaming
That we have kissed for the last time

© Nathan Tompkins

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 10 - 01:34 AM

Gee, we're up to "L" already. Time for some more.

Subject: SB: The Last Roar by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 28 Aug 10 - 03:14 AM

The Last Roar by The Shambles

The last roar
Of the Dinosaur
As he marches to extinction
You say "what went wrong"?
But to survive for so long
Must be, a mark of distinction

For time had flown
And the world he'd known
The land and all the oceans
Where once he would fit
He now must admit
He was only, 'going through the motions'

Just running to stand still
'Over the hill'
He thinks he'll get there, but never will

Ready to 'give up the ghost'
Sound the 'last post'
Where are your friends, when you need them the most?

Put to the test
He was losing interest
But still going through, 'the usual channels'
He had to curse
When they got there first
"Damn, those upstart mammals"

For they had begun
To suckle their young
He prefers, to keep his distance
But it's efficient
And quite sufficient
To threaten, his existence

Just running to stand still
'Over the hill'
He thinks he'll get there, but never will

Ready to 'give up the ghost'
Sound the 'last post'
Where are your friends, when you need them the most?

© Roger Gall. 

Subject: SB: Lament Of Captain McVay by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 28 Aug 10 - 03:12 AM

Lament Of Captain McVay by Amergin

With our orders in hand we are faring
On the wild and wasteful ocean.
It's on to Leyte Isle we are destined
As we follow the Pacific's motion

O we left the sunny California shores
With the Hiroshima killer were we shippin
I was Captain on a cruiser ship
And the summer winds were whippin

O we dropped our cargo at Tinian Isle
Then onwards to Guam we were sailin
In the peaceful waters I was faring
As I leaned against the starboard railin

Well, we left Guam for the Philippines
Though our escort was denied us
And the fog was thick, we could not see
That the rising sun was tracking us

It was in July late one Sunday night
With the first torpedo our hull was drinking
Communication was out, the order given
And with the second we were a-sinking

Why didn't you tell me they were hiding in the water?
Why was my escort so ruthlessly denied?
Tell me why did you see fit to court martial me?
I've got to know, friend, I've got to know why

I've got to know, yes, I've got to know friend
Ghostly faces ask me wherever I go
Comrades and friends are drowning around me
I've got to know, yes, I've got to know why

900 men were floating in the sea
Four and a half days in the rocking ocean
Drinking the salt, and feeding the sharks
When we were found we numbered 317

Well, they put me on trial and I lost my rank
For following the orders that they gave me
They ruined my career they ruined my name
No more will I sail upon the lonesome sea

Well the years went by, my pain it grew
With the hate I felt from families of the dead
So I went in the front yard with a toy in my hand
I opened my mouth and put a bullet in my head

Why didn't you tell me they were hiding in the water?
Why was my escort so ruthlessly denied?
Tell me why did you see fit to court martial me?
I've got to know, friend, I've got to know why

I've got to know, yes, I've got to know friend
Ghostly faces ask me wherever I go
Comrades and friends are drowning around me
I've got to know, yes, I've got to know why

Subject: SB: Lady of the Darkness by Micca
From: Joe Offer
Date: 26 Aug 10 - 03:11 AM

Lady of the Darkness by Micca

She is the Dark of the soul made visible
The inner peace that's eternal night
and all attempts to bind and hold her
are like attempts to stop birds from flight

Chorus:
So Fine and lovely, oh Lady Fair
So sweetly singing with her long dark hair
her voice enchants me where ere I go
My Lady of the Darkness

For she is free as the fox or curlew
as free as breathing as free as air
her laugh and song has made captive of me
and bound me to her with her long dark hair

She comes to me in the late night darkness
And whispers softly Is my love awake
folds back the blanket And clasps me to her
The way the river can embrace the lake

And the hours of waiting dissolve in moments
And all the sadness simply disappears
her warm strong body and her lips on mine
Refresh my soul and removes all fears

My love is with me , all things are easy
The dragons fought and are laid to rest
And I'm at peace in the close warm darkness
Held In the arms that that I love the best

Shes dark and pale is my Celtic goddess
She 's pale as moonlight upon the lawn
Her eyes are dark as winters midnight
But her hearts as bright as the Beltane dawn

Subject: SB: Lady Of Substance by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 26 Aug 10 - 03:10 AM

Lady Of Substance by The Shambles

I see you're gonna be a lady of substance
And you don't care what your poison will be
You hear it calling,
With the rain falling
On your window sill
You don't need it and you never will

The world is at your feet but you don't see it
The weight of the world, is all you feel
We wish you wouldn't
You know you shouldn't
But it's part of the thrill
You don't need it and you never will

So hard to please to ones who love you
Easy to please to ones who don't care
There's time for living
Time for giving
But there's no time to kill
You don't need it and you never will

Winds blow and seeds are sowing
Dreams grow or fall apart
Don't you see that
It's not that easy?
You have to pay the bill
You don't need it and you never will

©Roger Gall 1996

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:49 AM

Still no mistakes to point out?

Subject: SB: Justice En Lieu by Charley Noble
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:49 AM

Justice En Lieu by Charley Noble
(Words by Charlie Ipcar © 1993 / Inspired by an Associated Press story – 9/9/93)
(Tune: 19th Century Irish Music Hall: "I Wish They'd Do It Now")
[Key: D (2/C)]    [Click here for lyrics with chords]

Charley Noble's Comments: I do assure any skeptics that the events dramatized in my song were reported in our statewide newspapers, and I understand that the song itself was sung at a subsequent meeting of the Maine Bar Association by a friend of mine.


There are trials and trib-u-la-tions as in life we make our way,
Of-ten there's lit-tle jus-tice, you can hear the peo-ple say;
Now comes the Ci-ty of Ma-chi-as, on Maine's rock-bound shore,
Jus-tice was all con-found-ed at the Court-house bath-room door.

'Twas in the year of '93, September the eighth day,
Judge Marsano left his chambers, or so the papers say;
He entered his private bathroom, his duty to pursue,
How could he have imagined – fourteen hours en lieu?

When he tried to leave the bathroom, he found it was no go;
The lock had jammed, his staff had left, no one could hear his woe;
So this Justice was confounded – his story will endure –
By the push-button locking system on the Courthouse bathroom door.

On the Courthouse bathroom door,
On the Courthouse bathroom door,
By the push-button locking sy-stem
On the Court-house bath-room door.

First he tried to force the lock, but 'twas to no avail,
If he'd only had a bucket, he might have gotten out on bail;
Next he removed the hinge pins, but that door refused to budge,
There seemed to be no earthly way to win early release for the Judge.

If he'd only brought some lawbooks, he might have shown more zeal,
He could have drafted a petition and gotten out on appeal;
But this Justice was confounded – his story will endure –
By the push-button locking system on the Courthouse bathroom door.

On the Courthouse bathroom door,
On the Courthouse bathroom door,
By the push-button locking system
On the Courthouse bathroom door.

So early the next morning, his staff was surprised to hear
Such unruly banging and shouting from the bathroom in the rear;
They smashed the lock to free the Judge, and the super did allow:
"It wasn't funny at the time but it sure is funny now!"

Subject: SB: Just Another Love Song by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:48 AM

Just Another Love Song by Amergin

I revel in your misery
While you rejoice in mine
When you cry I'm dancing
When my tears fall you shine
When your lips curl on down
My head stands ever so high
When my face coils into a scowl
Your steps become airy and spry

Chorus:
And they say we were meant for each other
It is a love that never will die
I sing as I grip your hand tightly inside of mine
Of our love as we stand together, together beneath the sky

I sit here and joke and laugh
When I see that you are in pain
You drink and point and smile
When I take to the knife again
I shout out halleluiah
When I see you tying the knot
You loudly praise the lord above
When you see that I am distraught

Chorus:

© Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Jesus Is Coming -- Look Busy! by Praise
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:47 AM

Jesus Is Coming -- Look Busy! by Praise

The master gave a project.
Assigned it long ago.
Salvation of the masses,
And Jesus' way to go.
And back to us He promised
That He would surely be.
To monitor our progress,
And gauge our victory.

Chorus:
Oh Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming)
Yes Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming)
Better straighten up your desk,
Better have a good report,
Oh-o Jesus is coming-- Look busy!

I heard it on the e-mail,
Have you checked your box today?
An all-staff notification,
To settle down and pray.
The big event is happening--
It could be now I heard--
The work review He promised,
Or did you miss the Word?

Chorus:
I mean Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming),
Yes Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming).
Better straighten up your desk,
Better have a good report,
Oh-o Jesus is coming-- Look busy!

We thought we had forever,
We thought that time was ours.
We failed to see the deadline
For all our feeble human powers.
We hoped the next department
Would finish all the work,
We thought no one would notice
If all day long we shirked.

Chorus:
But Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming),
Yes Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming).
Better straighten up your desk,
Better have a good report,
Oh-o Jesus is coming-- Look busy!

The cubicles are humming
Where yesterday were jokes.
The parking lot now empty
Where half the company smokes.
Up every hall and passage,
Throughout the NHQ,
The managers are thinking quick
And so, my friend, should you!

Chorus:
For Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming),
Yes Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming).
Better straighten up your desk,
Better have a good report,
Oh-o Jesus is coming-- Look busy!

His imminent arrival
We never thought we'd see.
But Someone's heading right this way
He'll get to you and me.
Yes Jesus dressed in suit and tie
Escorted by the boss,
Collecting your statistics,
Of profit and of loss!

Chorus:
Is that Jesus (Oh Jesus) who's coming
(who's coming)?
Yes Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming).
Better straighten up your desk,
Better have a good report,
Oh-o Jesus is coming-- Look busy!

Promotion now or pink slip,
Which will it be for you?
His entourage is out on front,
His limo in plain view.
There's just a little time left
To do a bit of work.
Oh hurry and get started,
I hear this guy's a jerk!

Chorus:
Yes Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming),
Yes Jesus (Oh Jesus) is coming (is coming).
Better straighten up your desk,
Better have a good report,
Oh-o Jesus is coming-- Look busy!

Subject: SB: Jason's Song by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:45 AM

Jason's Song by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  Jason is my nephew and exactly the same age as this song.

Home is where the heart is
The end is where the start is
Round and round and round we go
Love is sometimes faking it
Life is what you're making it
The more you learn the less you know

All that glitters, is not gold
Passions hot, can run cold
Things agreed, on a calm day may
In a breeze, blow away

Home is where the heart is
The end is where the start is
Round and round and round we go
Love is sometimes faking it
Life is what you're making it
The more you learn the less you know

The only ones, who know for sure, are the young
Listen to the words I have sung
They may prevent your certainty
From hurting those who cannot be (so sure)

Home is where the heart is
The end is where the start is
Round and round and round we go
Love is sometimes faking it
Life is what you're making it
The more you learn the less you know

What me is there, I can say?
To help you on your way
Just listen to all that you are told
But remember, all age makes you is old

Roger Gall 1995

Subject: SB: Jack Lewin's Gold by Jack Lewin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:44 AM

Jack Lewin's Gold by Jack Lewin (a/k/a kevin gilfoy)

(chorus)
Well we ran her in hard by the south side bar trying to make Brophy's cove
We were dead on the run from the ten pound guns of the British ship Nancy O
They were closing in fast when we head the first blast as we made it past Josie's shoal
So let's make land and get out of here and hide Jack Lewin's gold

The Jack got caught out on maritime rock in a storm five weeks ago
With the garrisson's gold left deep in her hold, they left her to find Pictou
So we loaded the loot in our own little sloop and the weight of it laid us low
And now they're back with another ship to claim Jack Lewin's gold

(chorus)

The twenty three islands that lay inside that tricky little south side bar
Is a perfect little spot for a schooner to stop and hide from a Man-O-War
For the break water's fast by the sand bar's pass where the big ships dare not go
So let's lay low for a week or so and hide Jack Lewin's gold

(chorus)

So now we're back at the place of attack and we're sitting off Brophy's cove
And we're hanging our heads full of shame and dread of our doings there months before
It's a feeling so sad that we may go mad and it's hurting deep in our souls ...
Because we didn't make a map and now we can't find where we hid Jack Lewin's gold, no!

(chorus)

Lets haul ass and get out of here and hide Jack Lewin's gold!!!

Subject: SB:I Want To Get My Picture On The BBC by Bradypus
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:43 AM

I Want To Get My Picture On The BBC by Bradypus

I want to get my picture on the BBC
I want five minutes fame, so that all the world can see
I want to phone my family up, and ask 'did you see me ?'
I want to get my picture on the BBC

I thought I'd rob a bank, so you'd see me on the news
But for that I'd need a stocking mask, and that would spoil the views
And the cops are sure to catch me, and my freedom I would loose
So this idea's a loser, and it isn't any use

I thought I'd be a streaker, and go running in the nude
At Twickenham or Murrayfield, or Lords or St John's Wood
But my parents wouldn't like it, for they think that streaking's rude
That's another idea gone, for it isn't any good.

I thought I'd sing a folk song, for that seems the way to go
For singing, picking, strumming is the best thing that I know
But they don't put folk on telly, only on the radio
For my face to find it's fortune sure the radio's too slow

And then I found the Mudcat, and it is my type of place
There's a bbc on Mudcat who'll be glad to show my face
Just a scanner and an e-mail and a quick link to help trace
My fame across the internet, for all the human race

So now I'll get my picture on the bbc
It may be only lower case, it's good enough for me
Just click on the resources page, some sights you're sure to see
I'm there with all the other cats, and that's a cause for glee !

Subject: SB: It's A Funny Ol' World by tradsteve
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:42 AM

It's A Funny Ol' World by tradsteve
Tune: Down On Pennie's Farm

tradsteve's Comments:  Since it's my eighteenth birthday today I decided to write a song for the occasion. Happy Birthday to me. This is to the tune of "Down On Pennie's Farm".

Chorus:

It's a funny ol' world that we're all livin' in
I've said it before and I'll say it again
Whenever I start to win it knocks me down again
It's a funny ol' world that we're all livin' in
It's a funny ol' world that we're all livin' in

I ain't seen much in eighteen years
But what I've seen has brought me tears
Whenever I see the morning paper
I'm reminded once again
It's a wicked ol' world that we're all livin' in
It's a wicked ol' world that we're all livin' in

Chorus

I've learned many things from life's great game
I've learned to point the finger and how to place the blame
And if there's one thing I've learned from a politician
It's a cruel ol' world that we're all livin' in
It's a cruel ol' world that we're all livin' in

Chorus

We've got money for guns and money for war
We've got money for anything 'cept for the poor
It's a sinful world when we've got those who're starvin'
It's a sinful ol' world that we're all livin' in
It's a sinful ol' world that we're all livin' in

Chorus

But I've got hope and I've got a will
And I've got all of you if you're with me still
So I'll take all these knocks and take 'em on the chin
And laugh at the funny ol' world we're all livin' in
It's a funny ol' world that were all living in.

Subject: Lyr Add: IT SURE AS HELL AIN'T COUNTRY (K Morse)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:41 AM

It Sure As Hell Ain't Country by Kendall


Kendall's Comments:   Here is one I submitted to the dt, but, I don't know if it will make it or not.  It's based on a true experience; but, I took great liberties with the truth.  I must confess . . . I don't have a son, I don't do one night stands, and I never pick up hikers.

I was rolling along on the interstate in an 18 wheeler two hours late
Searching the dial for a country song
But I never did find one,
Nothin' on but rock music, thats an oxymoron
I picked up a hiker to relieve the gloom
Tought if she's willin' I'll get us a room
Make our own music..no such luck
All she wanted was my radio.

She found a station that was playing that stuff that some call country, that was bad enough
Then, she started singing along
Had a voice that would shatter Tupperware

We rode that way for miles and miles
I tried to talk, but, she just smiled
Kept on singing with that awful voice
Finally, I knew I had no choice
I gotta get rid of her, or shut her up somehow.
I stopped at a diner outside Duluth
Found myself a darked booth
Tried to get friendly, but she couldnt hear
Had one of them damned Walkmen stuck in her ear
Same old rock and roll. Nuff to make you chew your own leg off.

I dropped her off in my own home town
She opened the door, and 'fore she jumped down
She wanted to know if we'd meet again
I said "Aint likely, I'm not into pain."
I finally walked through my own front door, tv was on going full bore
The boy was watching TNN, and that same old racket hit me again
Cant get away from it..its like pollution
It's everywhere.
Sme guy was pounding a big stack of drums
Screeming something at the top of his lungs
Another had a "steel" and a cowboy hat
My son said "Whats the matter? you dont like that?
He's singing 'bout the land of the free"
I said "Boy, you could have fooled me
But, I'll tell you this much..
IT SURE AS HELL AINT COUNTRY.

Subject: SB: Islands and Oasis by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:40 AM

Islands and Oasis by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  If we could only refrain from placing labels on human beings, men, women and children, exactly like ourselves, it would maybe make it more difficult for us to cut them down like weeds.

According to a NATO spokesman today, there are a half a million people being forced to leave their homes in Kosovo . . . This is for them and all our other victims, refugees and homeless people everywhere.


Islands and oasis, all the safe places.
Shade from the sun, a place in the warm,
Somewhere to lie,
In the eye
Of the storm
Islands and oasis, it's written on their faces
They can't run, too tired to fight
Leave me please
In peace
Tonight

I've crossed the borders of many lands
I'm used to orders and commands
But those words still cut you like a knife
Why must it be so hard, to lead a simple life?
We don't expect to know the reasons
For we are but strangers here to freedom
We're travelling with no destination
Just keeping low, with no, high expectations

Islands and oasis, all the safe places.
Shade from the sun, a place in the warm,
Somewhere to lie,
In the eye
Of the storm
Islands and oasis, it's written on their faces
They can't run, too tired to fight
Leave me please
In peace
Tonight

In the dark streets of this town
There are some places to be found
Where you can be, but not belong
For soon they will return, to move you on
Your home may be a place of safety
But it was no such place for me
I left the violence and the lies
But the secrets still creep in
When I close my eyes

Islands and oasis, all the safe places.
Shade from the sun, a place in the warm,
Somewhere to lie,
In the eye
Of the storm
Islands and oasis, it's written on their faces
They can't run, too tired to fight
Leave me please
In peace
Tonight

Roger Gall 1998

Subject: SB: Ireland To Me by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:38 AM

Ireland To Me by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  With special thanks to Lonesome Ernie Johnson, Kevin McGrath and the Keeper of the Book.

I dream of a country, far over the sea
I dream of its people, united and free
I dream of a land, that I’ve yet to see
Thanks to all those who’ve brought Ireland to me

Lived and worked with you daily, gone with you to school
You've a different way but still nobody’s fool
Our languages too, seem to hold us apart
Mine speaks from the head, yours sings from the heart

I’ve seen all the passions, that in those eyes burn
The pain of those, who will never return
A pride in a home land, that I’ll never share
Divisions ‘known’ only, to those who live there

I dream of a country, far over the sea
I dream of its people, united and free
I dream of a land, that I’ve yet to see
Thanks to all those who’ve brought Ireland to me

I hear songs of your heroes, wars lost and won
But my thoughts are with those, whose song is unsung
Just in the wrong places and at the wrong time
Nameless martyrs, cut down in their prime

Innocent victims, lost daughters and sons
Will we all let the madness, go on and on?
Time to look to the future, not to live in the past
Let the guns fall silent, and make sure it will last

I dream of a country, far over the sea
I dream of its people, united and free
I dream of a land, that I’ve yet to see
Thanks to all those who’ve brought Ireland to me

Roger Gall 200?

Subject: SB: Into My Thoughts by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:36 AM

Into My Thoughts by Amergin

Amergin's Comments:  I listen to the gentle snoring of those around me, of Sugar Dog yelping in her sleep chasing cats, rabbits, or whatever strikes her fancy, as I scribble into my notepad, softly singing out my words as I go along... 

I hear her voice calling to me in my sleep
Swirling in my head the whispers softly creep
Into my thoughts....

I see her standing before me in my dreams
Unclothed and dripping from the river streams
Into my thoughts.....

I hear her sing her beann sidhe songs
Wailing and crying the whole night long
Into my thoughts....

I feel her creamy breasts touching me
Caressing my skin every time she breathed
Into my thoughts.....

I taste her mouth as her tongue entered mine
Knowing the dreams are being left behind
Into my thoughts....

I smell her sweet sweat filling my lungs
I arise and know that you are now gone
Into my thoughts.... 

Subject: SB: In Praise Of Barky by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:35 AM

In Praise Of Barky by Mbo

Barky is the trumpet queen
Makes all the others envy green
Barky girl, Barky girl
Amongst all oysters she's the pearl
Barky Barky Barky-O!
Play us Haydn's Concerto
And thrill us with your bold solo!

She's the first chair, don't you know
Others must her will follow
Barky lass Barky lass
Gettin' up and kickin' ass
Barky Barky Barky--blow
Them all away like a tornado
Everyone adores you so!

Barky's got such perfect tone
She is the Queen upon her throne
Barky's def, Barky's def
Play for us Holst's "March in F"
Barky Barky Barky dear
When other music hits my ear
I wish for Barky's horn to hear!

© Matthew Richards 2000

Subject: SB: In Hiding by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:34 AM

In Hiding by Amergin

He sits on the couch, staring out the window
Longing to breathe in the fresh air
He hears the birds sing, through the glass
Taunting and twirling in the air
The breezes blow through the trees
Chasing the sun rays across the lawn
The cats chase each other among the leaves
Wondering where the other has gone
He watches the clouds travel the blue sky
And walks across the carpeted floor
He touches the doorknob and turns it
But finds he cannot open the door

Chorus:
He hides from the world, hides from the truth
Escaping into his books, into the internet
Afraid to rediscover the world outside
Afraid of finding the hidden threat.

He watches the children play their games
At the house just across the street
Running through the two sprinklers
Soaking themselves to beat the heat
He hears the lawnmowers whirring 
The blades chomping cutting down the grass
Two kids toss around a football
Flying up and down as it gets passed
Birds dance upon the power lines
Jumping up to begin their glide
He hops up and runs to open the door
But finds he cannot go outside.

Chorus

He watches as the bees pollinate the flowers
Prancing among the petals, singing
The ancient folksongs of her people
Accompanied by the sirens ringing
The roses vibrate in the draught
Petals reaching up with each gust
The squirrels play among the branches
Acting upon each thought of natures lust
The bluejays croon on the highest limbs
Composing its songs, filled with pride
He opens the door and steps onto the porch
Something tells him he still must hide.

Final Chorus:
He hides from the world, hides from the truth
He cannot cope with the feelings inside
In concealment he watches the seasons pass
And with his thoughts he does abide.

Subject: SB: I'm Respectable Now by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:33 AM

I'm Respectable Now by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  As it was me that started the 'woman/man' thing I was very interested in the views about singing and writing from the others point of view. I have written a song (again one not to be taken too seriously) from a woman's point of view, only to have woman friend dismiss it with, "a man would write a song like that".  The implication was that it was a typical man's view, which of course it was, how could I do otherwise?  I am a man and that was the whole point.  Her reaction was interesting and I will post the words here, for your reaction and in an attempt to redress the balance with the one about the guy standing at the altar.  (Why did she still want to marry him anyway?).

I don't want you, around here any more
I'm respectable now
I know you're the cat, that, got my cream
But I would have spilt it anyhow
Don't come sniffing around my back door
I'm respectable now

You walk with one foot in the gutter
With your twitch, your limp, your lisp and your stutter
With your bad breath and your belly swelled with beer
I once thought you were the 'bees knees'
Guess I was just easily pleased
Thought all of your 'bullshit' was sincere
Please forgive me if I sound bitter
But when you ran off with the baby-sitter
You left me and took all the things we had
It was a blessing in disguise
I saw the light and I realised
The future, without you didn't look too bad

I don't want you, around here any more
I'm respectable now
I know you're the cat, that, got my cream
But I would have spilt it anyhow
Don't come sniffing around my back door
I'm respectable now

My beau's have now got suits on
They don't make love with their boots on
They don't just want my body they want me
They got this thing that they call foreplay
They don't just grab me in the hallway
And bend me down so I don't block the T.V.
You thought you were Eroll Flynn
But you made love like Rin-Tin-Tin
But a German Sheherd was better looking than you
And when it comes to your 'pride and joy'
You were hung like a 'Dinky Toy'
And you sure played a lot with it too

I don't want you, around here any more
I'm respectable now
I know you're the cat, that, got my cream
But I would have spilt it anyhow
Don't come sniffing around my back door
I'm respectable now

Subject: SB: I'm As Irish As A Texas Girl Can Be! by Áine
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:32 AM

I'm As Irish As A Texas Girl Can Be! by Áine
(Tune: Roll Me Over In The Clover)


It was back in '96
I took a little trip
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
I took lots o' books
That got me funny looks
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

We didn't stop for fuel
And oh the trip was cruel
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
As we flew into the mist
By Atlanta I was pissed
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Chorus:
I'm as Irish, I'm as Irish
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

When London we had reached
I'd nearly lost my speech
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
As much as the ticket cost
Don't you know that I got lost
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Then I walked up to the guard
And oh his look was hard
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
He said, "What are you about?"
I knew then he'd found me out
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Chorus

He looked at my red hair
Pointed me right up the stairs
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
Well, he went through all my gear
And his face went rather queer
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Saw my Gaelic books, did he
"What's this junk?," said he to me
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
"'Siad mo leabhair," a dúirt mé 'sin
"And take 'em outa that there bin!"
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Chorus

In his records went my name
And ain't that just a shame!
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
He let me go, I passed the test
"Póg mo thóin," a dúirt mé leis
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Well, most Englishmen are sweet
And their accents can't be beat
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
And though London may be quaint
Going back I never ain't
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

I'm as Irish, I'm as Irish
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!
I'm as Irish, I'm as Irish
I'm as Irish as a Texas girl can be!

Áine Cooke (2000)

Subject: SB: I'll Tell You 'Bout Life In The Country
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:31 AM

I'll Tell You 'Bout Life In The Country by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath of Harlow's Comments:  I'm not sure if it's rabbits or gentry he'd like to hunt. Both I imagine. (Just because you write a song you don't have the last word on what it means.) As for tunes, it works OK with "Dick Darby" or "Botany Bay".

I'll tell you 'bout life in the country
It's not what it once used to be
Now the gentry are leading the marches,
And they say that they care about me.

Well, I can't get a house, that's a pity,
And the reason is not hard to find,
They've been sold to rich folk from the city,
By the squire, who is ever so kind.

And the buses, it's just the same story,
They've been cut to the bone, what a shame,
But for everything cut by the Tories,
Seems it's Tony who we have to blame.

So the squire led a big march in London,
And we all had to go on the coach.
Well, if he wants the right to hunt foxes
Then I want the freedom to poach.

Yes, I'll tell you 'bout life in the country
And you'll hear the truth, just for once.
If you gave me the right to go hunting
It wouldn't be foxes I hunts.

Subject: SB: I Got Your Love by khandu
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:30 AM

I Got Your Love by khandu

Drivin' my truck down a rocky road
Been on this trail since the rooster crowed
But I got your letter, It was written in code
And I got, I got your Love

Peace in the valley, a lion is in the streets
Smoke on the mountain, and the King's on His seat
But here am I, in the sun, just driving through the heat,
But I got, I got your Love

Too much religion can drive a man mad
Too much ambition can turn him bad
Too much of a good thing . . . can't be had,
And I got, I got your Love

Some look for treasures, some for fame
Some look for somebody else they can blame.
The only way to win is to quit the game,
I got , I got your Love

I ain't looking around for any wonders or signs
Don't want nothing that ain't rightfully mine
But I'll take my pleasures in the fruit of your Vine
The Words of your lips and the taste of your wine

Grace is a lady, I owe her my life
She taught me the pleasures and the treasures of a wife
Mercy's words, sometimes they cut me like a knife,
But I got, I got your Love

I been talking to Roy, Roy knows some stuff
He said twice may be too many, but once is never enough.
He say "Ain't life grand, but sometimes, she can be rough",
But I got, I got your Love

What's that I see coming down from the sky?
Reminds me of that twinkle that I have seen in your eye.
Did I hear someone shout or was that an eagle cry?
I got, I got your Love

Took my Chevy to the levee, and pushed it off into the lake,
Hummed a little bit of "American Pie" for Old times sake
Sometimes old habits are easy to break!
I got, I got your Love

Copyright ©2000 khandu

Subject: SB: I'd Rather Smell by SINSULL
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:29 AM

This song was posted in response to a song challenge made by McGrath of Harlow on this thread.  Below is the newstory that prompted McGrath's challenge:

Mounties Punish Fragrant Offences (June 4, 2000) --  The Canadian province of Nova Scotia has outlawed perfume in public places after claims that it contains toxic chemicals .  The ban, observed in government buildings, schools and a growing number of private workplaces includes all fragrances, including those in hairspray and gel, mouthwash and deodorants. Some employees have been sent home to shower for being too sweetly scented.   The ban signals a victory for anti-perfume activists who lobbied outside the City Hall of the province's capital, Halifax, wearing gas masks. Their complaint is that fragrance is composed of undisclosed chemicals, some of which cause MCS - multiple chemi cal sensitivity. Critics say MCS is a spurious condition.  In Halifax not everyone has come to terms with the anti-perfume rule. An 84-year-old woman was escorted from a council meeting at City Hall for having a dab of perfume behind her ears.  Sheet Harbour High School was the scene of another scent showdown when a 17-year-old pupil refused to trade in his hair gel and deodorant for unscented alternatives. It almost got him a criminal record. His teacher, highly sensitive to fragrance, blamed the scent for triggering a vomiting attack. She called the incident an 'assault' and was backed by the school. The teen was handed over to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police but released without charge. 

I'd Rather Smell by SINSULL

Sinsull's Comments:  With apologies to my Canadian neighbors:

A Mountie rode alone Toronto's Metro
Sweaty red wool stench worn like a shroud
It suffused the crowded train
And yet this was the refrain
From his fellow riders caught within the cloud

(Refrain)
I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani
Halitosis is preferred to Listerine
My good Canadian sweat
Is less pungent than my breath
But I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani

The Blue Jays played a game at Yankee Stadium
The NY team smelled fresh and sweet and clean
But Toronto's locker room
Reeked of various bodily fumes
To the fans up in the bleachers they did scream

I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani
Halitosis is preferred to Listerine
My good Canadian sweat
Is less pungent than my breath
But I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani

The provinces up north have banned all perfume
Poisoned scents or lotions are a crime
Public toilets smell of shit
Better that than cans of flit
For the population's safe from toxic climes.

And they'd rather smell themselves than G. Armani
Halitosis is preferred to Listerine
My good Canadian sweat
Is less pungent than my breath
But I'd rather smell myself than G. Armani

Subject: SB: Ida Lewis by Barry Finn
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:28 AM

Ida Lewis by Barry Finn
Tune: Turkey Rhubarb, Traditional

Ida Lewis left Newport at the age of fifteen.
Moved onto Lime Light Rock in the 1850's.
Her father was a captain, now keeper of the light,
Soon the duties fell on Ida to keep the lamps burning bright.

Her sisters and brother, she'd row to school every day,
In a small open lifeboat across the rough bay.
From his wheelchair her father would watch though the storms,
In horror as Ida would row the children back home.

Renowned for her skills, no matter the weather.
At swimming or rowing no man was her better.
At the age of sixteen, she had saved four men's lives,
By the time she retired she had saved twenty five.

Now there are saints on the water, and demons in the sea,
One and all they praise Ida for her great bravery.
On the very night this woman died, who'd lived on the shoals,
Every bell on every boat in Newport did toll.

Now they've renamed that rock, the Ida Lewis Rock Light. 
And in her honor today, the light is still burning bright.
But sometimes at night when it's rough and it's cold,
Some claim to see Ida pulling boys from the foam.

Copyright Barry Finn 1997

Subject: SB: Ice Damming by Barry Finn
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:28 AM

Ice Damming by Barry Finn
(Tune:  Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A Changing")

It's winter in New England and throughout the land
The trucks start rolling with all available hands 
It's a party, a tradition, a picnic, a plan
Over mountains of snow they attack the Ice Dams

Chorus:
And you hear everywhere the cry Ice Dam
It's a flue, it's a fever that spreads through the land
Man your pickups, your axes, every woman and man
And answer the call and the cry Ice Dam

Blaze a path round a house in snow that's waist deep
Take a rake or a shovel and clear up 3 feet
Crawl the edge of the dam on a roof that's to steep
And start pounding on ice and let nobody sleep

On a 40 foot ladder that slides on the ice
Out comes the homeowner who tries to be nice
I like what you're doing but I don't like you're price
For a few dollars less would you still risk your life

Some shingles may break and the ice will sure fall
If we land on your shrubs sure you'll give us a call
Your check will bounce as we bounce off your walls
It must be illegal to have such a ball

Like ants, like termites we're all over your roof
We cry Ice Dam and drink 100 proof
In the news and the papers we're spreading the truth
When ice damming is done we're a winter recluse

Copyright, Barry Finn 1996 (winter) 

Subject: SB: I Wish I Was Back Home by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:27 AM

I Wish I Was Back Home by Amergin (originally posted on this thread)

Chorus:
I wish I was on the Kootenai River
I wish I was among those northern hills
I wish I was on the Kootenai River
I wish I was back home…

Walking down the street past the closed up shops
Snuggling against the cold in the snowlit night
Hands stuffed into pockets, hiding from the chill
Hood blanketing the head, fighting winter's bite

Frozen shoelaces flap around with each step
Smoky tendrils of fog escape the twitching lips
Snowmen standing by the sidewalks greeting
Passersby with outstretched wooden fingertips

Chorus

Slogging across the sodden lawn, snow receding
Dandelions poke their heads up embracing the sun
Birds come back north to raise their families
The Kootenai singing on, rambling down her run

The rain clouds shift and congregate in prayer
Darkening, crying out in joy at the coming spring
The farmers work their fields, riding the tractor cats
The birds bring out their flutes to play "On The Wing"

Chorus

Schools out, kids across the street playing baseball
Birds dance on the limbs as their kids leave the nest
Bees whistle as they pollinate, spreading the nectar
The sun reaches out its arms caressing the rivers breast

The piper from Creston leading the annual parade
The huckleberry pies sit on the table in patriotic glory
Swimmers dive beneath the clear depths of Deep Crick
Listening to the water whistle its endless story

Chorus

The geese cry, flying towards their southern refuge
The leaves turn brown, rotting from their treetops
The flowers sink down, hiding from the coming cold
The windows pound in the impact of the raindrops

The schoolyards bellow with the laughter of children
Down the valleys the cold wind begins to blow
Guns roar in the hills, hunting for elk and deer
Firewood is gathered in preparation to the coming snow

Chorus

Subject: SB: I Can't Reach My Beer by Frankee
From: Joe Offer
Date: 25 Aug 10 - 02:25 AM

I Can't Reach My Beer by Frankee
(A slow,country, dirge-like, cry in your beer waltz sung with a nasal twang. Think Faron Young.)

When we first started courting
You made me feel like a king
But now that you left me I don't feel a thing
Lying face down in this barroom and missing you dear
Help I've fallen and I can't reach my beer

If I could get one shot of courage
I'd stand on my feet
Get up out of this sawdust and into the street
Well I'd find your new boyfriend and punch him into next year
But help I've fallen and I can't reach my beer

BRIDGE

Oh who would of thought I'd wind up like this
Can't even stand up to take me a... to the lavatory
I guess I'll spend my life on this old barroom floor
Cursing your name and calling you a whor,-or,-or,-or -rible person.

But fightin' and hatin' ain't no way to live
So I guess I'll have to find a way to forgive
In fact I'd like to drink a toast to the one who put me down here
But help I've fallen and I can't reach my beer
(additional line) My darlin', I've fallen and I can't reach my beer

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:10 AM

If somebody wants to check to here and see if I've got them all so far, I'd be grateful.
G'nite.
-Joe-

Subject: SB: Hummingbird Song by harpgirl
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:09 AM

Hummingbird Song by harpgirl

Today I saw a hummingbird
Flyin in my backyard
He was pokin his head in the flowers
Tastin each one in the yard

That pretty green bird he flew
Sippin that sweet honeydew
Hoverin and dartin in the morning sun
Fly off when he's through

Reminds me of a man
With a spirit flyin free
He came on down from North Platte town
And here he courted me

Hummingbirds are like the men
Soar with the fickle wind
There they're in your flowers
Then they're off again

So I'm just sittin and rockin
To the rhythm of the blowin wind
Singin and watchin from the backporch
For the hummingbird again

He'll come and taste my flowers
Sippin to his heart's content
Then he flies away so daggone fast
I don't see where he went

Suddenly he's flyin back
I see he's got a friend
Sailing around my flowers
Riding on the wind

Come on over you pretty bird
I'm sure we haven't met
How do you like my flowers
Are they sweet as a baby's breath

I'd like to try to catch you
Keep you in a cage
Have you for my very own
Until my dyin day

But I'm gonna keep on rockin
And let you birds fly free
You'd no more love just one kind of flower
Than that boy only me 
Than that boy only me 
Than that boy only me

Subject: SB: How Did I Get Here? by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:08 AM

How Did I Get Here? by Amergin
(Tune: Drifting Too Far From Shore)

When I woke up this morning
With the pounding in my head
I looked at my surroundings
Realised I was in a strange bed

Chorus:
Now how did i get here?
Just how did I get here?
Last night I went drinking
Saw a cute girl winking
And I wonder, how the hell I got here?

On the nightstand was her wig
And her teeth in a glass jar
Her bald head on the pillow
No more I go to that bar

Chorus

I went to the pub last night
And she was just sitting there
She looked so damn beautiful
After eight pints of good beer

Chorus

Oh, as she lay there sleeping
I had to stretch out my hand
Along the hair on her legs
I realised she was a man

Chorus

Subject: SB: Homeless, Broke and Hungry by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:07 AM

Homeless, Broke and Hungry by reggie miles

What happened to the salvation in Salvation Army?
Oh where's all the good in Goodwill?
And where has the saint in Saint Vincent De Paul gone,
now that I've grown so ill?
The bottom's dropped out, I'm out on the street
and my prospects are all lookin' nil.
Oh, what's happened to the salvation in Salvation Army,
and where's all the good in Goodwill?

I went to the gospel mission today,
The Church Of The Kindly Light,
and asked for a little something to eat
and someplace to sleep for the night.
They told me there wasn't any room at the inn
and that the kitchen was closed for the day.
Then they enlightened in no uncertain terms,
they said get out and be on your way.

Disillusioned I wandered without being fed
with no place to lay my poor weary head.
Then I spied a green dumpster full of discarded bread
but when I tried to dive in, the store clerk just said.
Go on now. Move along. That's no place to be.
Have you tried gettin' food stamps? I hear that they're free.
I told him I'd never been this down before.
He just solemnly pointed the way out the door.

As nightfall fell, there came a chill to the air.
So I went to a thrift store, to buy cold weather wear.
But the prices they asked for those donated clothes,
were beyond what my meager wallet could hold.
Hungry and cold I roamed aimless through town.
Until I paused to rest where no chair could be found.
And as I sat on the sidewalk to ease my sore feet,
I was fined fifty dollars for sittin' on the street.

What happened to the salvation in Salvation Army?
Oh where's all the good in Goodwill?
And where has the saint in Saint Vincent De Paul gone,
now that I've grown so ill?
The bottom's dropped out, I'm out on the street
and my prospects are all lookin' nil.
Oh, what's happened to the salvation in Salvation Army,
and where's all the good in Goodwill?

There's a moral here somewhere, maybe three or four.
Without compassion for each other what are we livin' for?
When the greed of the rich out weighs the need of the poor,
what's left is a world that's fit to abhor.

© Reggie Miles

Subject: SB: His Only Consolation by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:06 AM

His Only Consolation by Amergin

He find himself sitting there
Staring out the darkened glass
Thinking of her golden smile
And the time he saw her last

Standing together in the station
Holding each other against the cold
His lips slowly caressing hers
Hands brushing back the yellow gold
The approaching call of the whistle
Shatters the sweetness of the dusky air
His arms unfold from around her waist
And walks away into the electric glare

He grips the bottle in his hand
Memories falling in scattered rhyme
Beer soothingly coats his tongue
As his thoughts roll back the time

The car door opens and out she steps
Blonde hair twinkling in the sunlight
Arms open to envelop him with her love
Her gentle laughter singing with delight
His bag softly bounces upon his back
As he trounces into the warmth of her arms
His lips press gently down into hers
Remembering the warmth of her tender charms

He slams the empty bottle to the table
In the lamplight his teardrops gleam
Each drop holding a precious memory
Each drop containing a shattered dream

He lies there in the bed next to her
Soaking the warmth into his tired skin
He holds her sleeping form to his body
Patiently waiting for sleep to descend
He watches her closed dreaming eyes
And listens to her velvet breaths fall
Her quiet beauty glowing in the darkness
His eyelids drop, he hears the siren's call

He stumbles to his bed where three dogs lie
Gazing at him in constant expectation
Drunken sorrow leaps with him, her love
In the next life is his only consolation

©Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Hilary's Piggies by The Singing Referee
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:05 AM

Hilary's Piggies by The Singing Referee (a/k/a Steve Last)

The Singing Referee's Comments:  A couple of weeks ago a few of us from the St. Albans Folk Club were holding an informal chorus session at the Blue Anchor in St. Albans. During a break in proceedings one of our number, Hilary, re-entered the bar in a state of some consternation, having visited the ladies room. (No, I said CONSTERNATION!) Apparently she had glanced in the mirror, (as you do) and had noticed that the earrings she was wearing, a pair of miniature pigs suspended on long stems, were facing in the wrong direction and had been presenting their backsides to the assembled gathering during the evening thus far. Hilary's greatest concern appeared to be that we, her so called friends, had failed to point out this situation and had left her unknowingly in this state of disrepair until she had noticed it herself. I was so moved by her utter dismay that I was inspired to write this song. . .


Oh, your pigs were facing backwards when they should have faced the front.
You must have dressed too carelessly, if I could be so blunt.
When you went to the ladies room and looked into the glass,
Instead of their sweet faces, all that you could see was ar__.

They were dangling from your earlobes on such long and slender poles.
You must have got them twisted when the hooks went in the holes,
Or maybe when they heard us sing your piggies they took fright,
And turned their backs to save their ears from such an awful plight.

And how you may think the likes of this is of such small import,
But to this lady folk singer it's nothing of the sort.
For the piggies lead her choruses, and posterior alignment
Might result in harmonies that lack her usual refinement.

Now the moral of this story is so plain for all to see,
When wearing fancy jewellery you must dress most carefully.
For your friends can't be relied on to point out your indiscretion,
Just to cause you great embarrassment at your next folk club session

Subject: SB: Hiders In Holes by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:03 AM

Hiders In Holes by The Shambles

These hiders from light
Talk boldly of fight
They tell an unconvincing story

These hiders in caves
Send young men to their graves
To die, they believe in glory

What is this cause?
These holy wars!
You may choose to pay the ultimate price
But do the misused?
Have the right to choose?
Those who will share their sacrifice?

These hiders in holes
These sellers of souls
These market dealers in doom

Hiders behind skirts
They nurture their hurts
With arms that reach out from the gloom

Why the cry?
An eye for an eye!
That retribution be both swift and ruthless?
Is it the master plan?
That each and every land
Be filled with the blinded and the toothless?

These hiders can lie
The dark blinding their eyes
Safe from those that would kill them

These hiders may hide
They're safe inside
Let them have their holes . . . and then fill them

© Roger Gall 2001

Subject: SB: He's Gonna Go to War by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 03:00 AM

He's Gonna Go to War by Amos
(Tune: He's In the Jailhouse Now; J. Rogers)

I knew a guy named Dithering George
He used to weasel, lie and forge
Until he got elected Prezzy-dent.
Now he's actin' quite the boy
He got himself a bran' new toy
He thinks the US war machine was simply heaven-sent!

He's gonna go to war!
He's gonna go to war!
Doesn't matter where or when
He wants carte blanche for killing men,
He wants to go to wa-a-ar!

Now ole George is kinda slimy
He talks tough, dumb and old-timey
And he never says just what he's shootin' for.
But you can bet your bottom dollar
He'll pout and rave and holler
If we don't let him take his toys, and start another war!

He's gonna go to war!
He's gonna go to war!
Doesn't matter where or when
He wants carte blanche for killing men,
He wants to go to wa-a-ar!

Ya know ole Georgy ain't no fairy
Why he bought the Judiciary
And he knows just how to bully, push and scare
An' he's done some fancy stepping
'Bout the threat of Nukyular Weapons,
And he'd sure be quite embarrassed, if them weapons wasn't there!

He's gonna go to war!
He's gonna go to war!
Doesn't matter where or when
He wants carte blanche for killing men,
He wants to go to wa-a-ar!

Subject: SB: Hello, Michael, It's Me by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 02:59 AM

Hello, Michael, It's Me by Amergin

Hello, Michael, it's me
It's been a long time since I saw you last
In your uniform as you proudly marched past
M-16 on your shoulder, eyes straight ahead
As you paraded down the pavement gallant and calm
To the dark sweltering jungles of Vietnam
30 years have gone by, are you alive or are you dead?

Hello, Michael, it's me
Your young son, John, is a man full grown
Married with two wonderful sons of his own
He looks and sounds just like his dear father
From the twinkle in his eyes to his lopsided grin
From the brown in his hair to the red on his chin
The very strides he takes holds your spirt together

Hello, Michael, it's me
Your photograph is faded, weathered and worn
Happily holding the baby, when Johnny was born
Stands on a dark table stained with growing years
And your letters sit folded on my dancing breast
The words blotched and wrinkled, pages torn at the crease
Spotted with the salt drying from my tears

Hello, Michael, it's me
The christmas lights dance in the window red and green
your unopened presents sit beneath the shining tree
Can you feel the laughter in the children's joyous call
As we saunter down the pathways frozen and bare
Bearing roses through the cold snow spotted air
To find your name forever etched into a granite wall?

Goodbye, Michael, Merry Christmas.
Please come home soon.

Copyright Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Hell No To The WTO by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 02:58 AM

Hell No To The WTO by reggie miles

Now I'm just an average kind of guy
and I don't keep up with the political side
but I heard some disturbin' news just the other day.
It seems there're these multinational corporations,
with their sights set on global exploitation
and they don't care who they step on along the way.

Well I say no, hell no, to the WTO.
Them planet trashin' power mungers
have really got to go.
Those world trade disorganizers,
are just thievin' greedy misers.
Let's organize the demise of the WTO.

On a Monday in late November,
they rallied at the exhibition center and when the people
tried to protest on that day.
They were denied the right
to be near the vicinity.
The FBI kept all but nine at bay.

And they were shoutin', no, hell no, to the WTO.
Those behind closed doors deal makers
can all pack their bags and go.
We're gonna shine the light of day,
on their dirty dealin' way.
Let's organize the demise of the WTO.

When I read in our Constitution
how our forefathers through revolution
freed themselves from the tyranny of an oppressive state.
It makes me want to join the fight
and stand up for what is right,
unite in song and sing along for freedom's sake.

Sing it, no, hell no, to the WTO.
Sing it loud and sing it proud,
we ain't gonna take this any more.
Spread the news across the world,
Seattle's battle flag's unfurled.
Let's organize the demise of the WTO.

What a glorious day to be
an American and see, 
all the people in the streets with protest signs.
Fighting corporate tyranny,
in this land of the free,
don't you know brothers and sisters I got mine.

I'm singin', no, hell no, to the WTO.
Them lowdown teargas tossin',
double crossin' traitors, got to go.
Those world trade disorganizers,
are just jackbooted terrorizers.
Let's organize the demise of the WTO!

© Reggie Miles

Subject: SB: Half Written Letter by JudeL
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:57 AM

Half Written Letter by JudeL
(There is a tune - but I don't do the dots thing - so it'll have to wait until later)

JudeL's Comments:  Then here's my offering. I don't know if it's the sort of song that goes in the book but it's mine and writing it helped me at the time.

Chorus:
Just a half written letter,
To a friend I once knew,
Packed away with my dreams,
Of what I meant to do

I was writing to tell her,
Now that I was a wife,
Of my baby son growing ,
'Bout the joy in my life,
But now all it triggers,
Is sadness and tears,
Shed for all of those dreams,
That I lost though the years,

Chorus

Not a person to my husband,
Not marriage but despair,
I was just a possession,
Not for me did he care,
But the thing that caused changes,
The one final straw,
Was when I realised,
I couldn't find me anymore

Chorus

Now I'm gradually learning,
To dream once again,
To take time to be me,
Joy and laughter reclaimed,
I can share when I chose to
I have learn't to be strong,
Rediscovering myself,
Who I was all along.

Chorus

Subject: SB: Grossosity! by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:56 AM

Grossosity! by reggie miles

Reggie's Comments:  Upon exploring a book fair, I ran across a particularly interesting work of nonfiction written for children which described the grosser workings of our bodies in some detail.  I expanded upon what I had read about within that book, (just slightly ;~)), and developed the following.  Then I used part of the melody of the song, With Her Head Tucked Underneath Her Arm, as sung by Rudy Valley and his Valley Boys, to work with my verse structure.  Don't ask me how, but it seemed to work.

Bats flutter in my belfry when I'm dreamin' in my bed
I'm guessin' they got in there through these holes here in my head.
I'd like to shed this feelin' that some day I'll wake up dead.
I've tried a frontal lobotomy and every remedy bottle in front of me.
But nothin' that I've tried has helped this dread.
Sooo! I just cry myself to sleep each night instead.

Green and crusty boogers they reside inside my nose.
Those slimy sinus stalactites clog my nasal breathin' holes.
And there's fungus here among us growin' twixt ten smelly toes.
And the stink'll make you think it must be time to change your hose.
OOOH! The stench'll curl your nose hairs heaven knows.

A big belly full of bicarb bathes a blisterin' boil,
That bubbles when my troubles begin to foil and uncoil.
This royal pain in th' gut is due to one unloyal goil.
So I sit and slowly slurp another sip of castor oil.
OOOH! And I play solitaire in solitude with Hoyle.

I collect belly button lint but it doesn't smell so nice.
So I use a mint deodorant and wash it twice or thrice.
And just in case you're thinkin' that this vice ain't very nice.
My freezer's full of fresh and minty little linty balls of ice.
OOOH! I keep 'em free from lice as linty balls of ice.

Earwax slowly trickles down my eerie ear canals.
And toe jam jams the crevices of all my toenail pals.
An avalanche of dandruff boulders showers down upon my shoulders,
And my doctor nods and jots another note inside my folder.
OOOH! And his nurse says I'll get worse as I get older.

Halitosis haunts my speech and my cornfusional orations.
As my teeth decay and rot away from cavity excavations.
Puss filled acne polka dots my face. Pimples are poppin' up everyplace.
I'm a disgrace as an example of the human race.
OOOH! It looks like I may be a hopeless case.

Unspeakable odors waft up from down below.
They breezily squeeze with ease between my knees as they flow.
Whiff my pungent armpit aroma, and you will end up in a coma.
You'll be longin' for the pleasant scent of ol' Tacoma.
OOOH! You'd rather have a squirtin' skunk inside your home. AHHH!

Two bloodshot orbs gaze back at me when in the mirror I stare.
A wrinkled road map decorates the face that's gawkin' there.
And my receding hairline's left my head completely bare.
I don't know why I bother livin' when this life is so unfair.
OOOH! Now applaud and pretend you even care.

Subject: SB: Grieving by Spider Tom
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:55 AM

Grieving by Spider Tom
(© Ken (Spider Tom) Robertson 4/6/1996)

(1) I need the darkness,
And it should rain.
Just you leave me,
Alone again.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.


(2) Don't want, no one,
I'm feeling numb.
My chest is strangled,
My heart, struck dumb.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.

Chorus 
The loss, steals your everything,
The pain and the hurt, it brings,
And there's no one, or nothing,
Can cure the ache.
D It's said, time heals everything,
But it's healing no one.
Time, it won't heal,
It will just make you numb.

(3) 
Life is held by,
A tiny thread,
And, when it breaks,
Is that the end?


I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,

(4) 
Life's a battle,
'Tween hopes, and fears.
Now hope is drowning,
In a stream of tears.

I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight, (chorus)

(5)
I hear the laughter,
In the streets of loss,
As life is chanced, like
A coin that's tossed.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,
I'm grieving, grieving tonight,

(6)
A million tears,
Won't cure the pain,
They're bringing nothing,
Back again.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight.
I'm grieving, grieving tonight!

Grieving © Ken Robertson 4/6/1996

Subject: SB: Greet Me In The Morning by Kathleen Logan
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:54 AM

Greet Me In The Morning by Kathleen Logan
(Tune: Star Of The County Down)

Oh, my dear he rests in my loving arms
In the quiet of early day..
But, when evening passes is he gone?
Oh, my love what can I say?

Chorus:
Will you greet me in the morning, when the sunlight fills your hair,
Or will I awake from my dreaming love to find that you're not there?

Will you come with me to the shadowland
Where wayward lovers sing
I'll take your hand and we'll share the dance
And we'll see what morning brings

(Chorus)

Will you sail with me to the lovers sea
Where tender times know no door
And we'll watch the waves bring our memories
Swift and constantly to the shore.

(Chorus)

Oh what chance has this love of mine
As it sails upon the wind
Without a resting spot to find
Just the memories of him

(Chorus)

© Kathleen Logan

Subject: SB: The Great Music Show by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:53 AM

The Great Music Show by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments:  (In re Woodstock)  Lots of good memories.  I got there more or less by chance - I was over there for a pacifist conference due the next week, and someone offered me a lift to some kind of festival that was going on.   I remember waking up smashed in the morning and wandering over to the Hog Farm free kitchen, where I found myself working stirring up peculiar messes of food and serving it to lines of survivors, holding the tent down when the rainstorm broke upon us and nearly blew us away, and joining in a jug band when night came around.  Better than any of the music on stage. And some of that was pretty good.  The someone comes round with boxes of chocky bars and that that was supposed to be thrown out to people wedged up the front, and I got in for that, up on stage while Jefferson Airplane were playing, before we got to do our throwing act.  So I wasn't just at Woodstock, I was on stage there!  Come the 25th anniversary someone on our local paper thought they'd find a local angle on it, and came and interviewed me about it.  (Well there aren't many Woodstock survivors in West Essex, I think, and my son had told him about me).  Thinking about it afterwards I wrote a song:


When I got there, all around 
you could feel it start to grow. 
There were thousands upon thousands,
people moving to and fro,
and the roads were blocked behind us - 
there was no way you could go. 
We were cast away, so far away 
in that Great Music Show. 

Chorus:
And I stood in the rain, 
and I wondered through the show, 
and I saw what I saw, 
and I know now what I know, 
and it's all been so long 
and so very long ago - 
but I'm glad I was part 
of that Great Music Show.

Well the smoke and the sunshine 
nearly felled me like a blow, 
but I rose like a salmon 
as my mind began to glow, 
And I was heaving like a sailor 
when the tent began to go, 
and the wind and the rain 
they were walking to and fro.

Chorus:
And I stood in the rain, 
and I wondered through the show, 
and I saw what I saw, 
and I know now what I know, 
and it's all been so long 
and so very long ago - 
but I'm glad I was part 
of that Great Music Show.

And the music on the mountain 
in the morning when we rose 
seemed to open up a window 
that could never quite be closed. 
And the brightest and the best 
they may have died so long ago, 
but I saw them there all shining 
at the Great Music Show.

Chorus:
And I stood in the rain, 
and I wondered through the show, 
and I saw what I saw, 
and I know now what I know, 
and it's all been so long 
and so very long ago - 
but I'm glad I was part 
of that Great Music Show.

And you can ask me for the reasons 
why we ever chose to go 
to those hills so far and foreign 
to a place we did not know. 
But the reasons they are hidden 
in the days of long ago, 
when the world stood amazed 
at that Great Music Show.

Chorus:
And I stood in the rain, 
and I wondered through the show, 
and I saw what I saw, 
and I know now what I know, 
and it's all been so long 
and so very long ago - 
but I'm glad I was part 
of that Great Music Show.

c. Kevin McGrath 1994

Subject: SB: The Green Autumn Stubble by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:52 AM

Mbo says: Well folks, I'm going to be using this thread to post the lyrics to my songs on. As I make subsequent midis, I'll add the lyrics in. Here are the lyrics for the songs on the Mudcat Midi Site.

THE GREEN AUTUMN STUBBLE
Poem by Patrick Brown, Chorus by Matthew Richards (Mbo)

When stubble-lands were greening, you came among the stooks
And grace was in your feet then, and love was in your looks
In your cheeks the rose grew redder, and your hair in clusters lay
And I would we lived together, or together slipped away

CHORUS:
She strode the green autumn stubble, on that fatefull day
And Oh! I thank the Lord above for bringing you my way
It's true He hears His people's prayers, don't care what critics say
For He surely answered mine, alright, when He crossed our paths that day!

I had a dream on Wednesday, that bitter was the frost
And I saw my love lamenting at dawn that I was lost
Methought I came beside her and held her tenderly
And all Erin I defied then to part my love and me

My curse on him is spoken who keeps my love from me
And swears that to our courting he never will agree
For though skies should send the deluge or the snowy North it's flakes
We two could live as pleasant as the swans upon the lakes

The sea-gulls heart is merry when fish is in his beak
And the eel within Lough Eyrne can swim from creek to creek
And I spoke tripping Gaelic, and merry songs I've sung
But now my wits are crazy and leaden is my tongue.

Subject: SB: Good for the Heart (Jacob Bloom)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:45 AM

GOOD FOR THE HEART (Jacob Bloom)

Your doctor might tell you to lose weight and diet And go out and jog every morning at five And you might attempt to get out there and try it And find yourself feeling just barely alive Come over to my place, this jogging alone On those dangerous streets cannot be very smart And we'll go out walking tonight in the moonlight Your doctor will tell you it's good for the heart

Your doctor will say that you shouldn't eat sugar Or French fries, or hot dogs, or barbecued steak Or fried eggs, or bacon, or freshly brewed coffee Or three-layer fudge-frosted chocolate nut cake Come over to my place, I'll put on some music And pull out my cookbook and calorie chart I'll make a low-calorie, candlelight dinner Your doctor will tell you it's good for the heart

If your blood pressure's high, your doctor will tell you To try to relax, and to minimize stress There's a medical need to get rid of the tensions That come when you struggle too hard for success Come over to my place, I'll give you a backrub In my eyes you've been a success from the start I'll hold you and tell you just how much I love you Your doctor will tell you it's good for the heart

A parody of "How Can I Keep From Singing"

The long-awaited Summer comes Cold Winter's compensation And yet, if the whole truth be told There's one small irritation For in the pond behind the house Mosquito eggs are hatching And when in time they start to bite How can I keep from scratching.

What though I swat with open hand I hear a buzzzzzzzzzz - it liveth. What though I use that bug spray can Bites in the night it giveth. And after all, it matters not If one or two I'm catching For while I do, ten more will bite. How can I keep from scratching.

I'll grit my teeth, and for a time My skin I will be patching. Yet, though I bathe in calamine, How can I keep from scratching. I'll put an end to my complaint. I'll smile and stop my bitching. Yet, must I suffer like a saint? How can I keep from - scritching.

Need a silly or serious song written for a wedding, anniversary, holiday, Bat Mitzvah, Bar Mitzvah or any special event? Contact Jacob Bloom at [e-mail]

A Klez Act
Story and Dance for a New Jewish Tradition

Subject: SB: Going Up The 'Ace' by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:43 AM

I would like to dedicate this song to Amos (whether he wants it or not), for all his generous contributions. Keep it up. With thanks, The Shambles

Going Up The 'Ace' by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  In the late 50s early 60s, The Ace Café on London's North Circular road, was the place to be and be seen, if you were into 'bikes' and 'bikers'.  Nearly all the British made ones like Triumph, Norton BSA and AJS and such like, could be seen but the occasional Harley would receive admiring glances.  The early Japanese machines were looked upon as a passing fad., ah, those were the days.  I used to go there by bus (oh the shame of it). It seemed then to me, that things would always be the same but . . .


Well, you can keep all of your 'fancy' restaurants
Right here, are all of the things that a man could want
Good 'Old Gerry Lee's', never gonna change his tune
And they'll never take away, this 'Greasy Spoon'

Now the night is filled with such a 'Triumphant' noise
Roaring in from Windsor, it's the 'Bonneville' boys
The leather girls, they really don't want to leave those boys alone
They're busy choosing, who is the one who's gonna take them home

I'm going up the 'Ace'
Weaving in the chase
Two up and held in a pillion embrace
I'm going up the 'Ace'
Keeping up the pace
Burning up the road with the wind in my face

See the 'ton-up' vicar, all dressed in PVC
Preaching salvation, says God is reaching out to me
His congregation, they just stand and stare
No need to promise me Heaven, for I'm already there

Hear the juke-box blearing out, 'Leader Of The Pack'
Sandy limps in, and she's still dressed in black
I see her trying to hold back a tear, as she joins the queue
She's there on her own, but she's still orders for two

I'm going up the 'Ace'
Weaving in the chase
Two up and held in a pillion embrace
I'm going up the 'Ace'
Keeping up the pace
Burning up the road with the wind in my face

There's a bike here from each and every part of the land
There's a guy here that's riding one that's even 'made in Japan'
All this 'hot metal' just waiting to explode
Getting ready to 'burn-up' the North Circular Road

Well, you can keep all of your 'fancy' restaurants
Right here, are all of the things that a man could want
Good 'Old Gerry Lee's', never gonna change his tune
And they'll never take away, this 'Greasy Spoon'

I'm going up the 'Ace'
Weaving in the chase
Two up and held in a pillion embrace
I'm going up the 'Ace'
Keeping up the pace
Burning up the road with the wind in my face.

Of course they did take it away -- Roger Gall.

Subject: SB: Ghosts Of Our Nation by InOBU
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:42 AM

Ghosts Of Our Nation by InOBU
(Words: Lorcan Otway, all rights reserved / Tune: The Shamrock Shore)

Farewell to the land, of Jefferson and Franklin
Farewell to the dreams of the good Thomas Paine
We've have sacrificed our freedom, on the alter of security
and I fear we may not soon see the likes of them again,
For this land was more than a flag or a slogan
this land was more than its rocks or its clay
This land was a gift given us by great thinkers
a dream which lesser men have now cast away

The rule of law is hobbled and no rights are now held sacred
except the right to steal and plunder in the name of corporate greed
While bible thumping patriots, in the guise of elder statesmen
rob for the wealth few from the people in most need
Now our prisons are full of the men of no property
and back alleys are filled with the hopeless and insane
but still we are told, that this is the land of liberty
and told to ignore those our country causes pain

Who can hold up their head, and proud proclaim their homeland
while leaders wet the assassins knife by stealth upon the road
this is not the act of a land of law and of justice
no mater who the target, we must live by legal code
What light of hope now shines in the halls of Philadelphia
what words of bravery speak out from the senate floor
what black thoughts now taint with blood, the hopes of a nation
when politicitions make sweat liberty their whore

But I cast my gaze, to the hills of our history,
while I stake my few hopes on the words of our past
For while a spark shines on, in the ashes of these ruins
the light of freedom's fires may displell the shadows cast
And each one of you, who remembers where we came from
proclaim your love liberity and reject the cynics sneer
cast fear upon the pyre of the promices of tyrants
turn away from craven cowards, and true hearts now draw near.

Subject: SB:The Game by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:40 AM

The Game by Amergin

His cousin is at her work
His mom is at night school
A 12 year old boy watches him
He must obey all the rules
His homework is all done
He tries to find something to do
But evenings with Jerry are boring
Today he learned to tie his shoe
Jerry comes to him and asks,
"Do you want to play a game?"

They go into his darkened bedroom
Curtains block the eyes of the sun
The door slams shut behind them
Jerry slavers with anticipation
"The doctor is coming," he is told
And his pants fall to the floor
"Touch me right here, like this."
Jerry smiles, his lust begins to roar
Jerry moans softly into his ear
"Now we are ready to start the game."

He lies upon his bed, face down
Feeling the heavy body crawl upon him
Pain inflames his six year old body
As the hot flesh descends within him
Jerry pants into his young neck
Gasping aloud with each burning thrust
Warm fluid mixes with the child's blood
As Jerry spends his great power lust
The mom comes home and he hides ashamed
Realising that he lost this game

Subject: SB: Friends Like You by nutty
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:27 AM

Friends Like You by nutty

I don't care where I lay my head
Be it floor or feather bed
As long as there are friends around like you
I don't care what I have to eat
Or what I wear upon my feet
As long as there are friends around like you

CHORUS
As long as I can sing my song
As long as you will sing along
And share in almost eveything I do
I may not be a millionaire
But I'll be rich beyond compare
As long as there are friends around like you

I don't care if my hair turns grey
Or if the family comes to stay
As long as there are friends around like you
I don't care if the kids get cross
Or if I argue with my boss
As long as there are friends around like you

As long as I can sing my song
As long as you will sing along
And share in almost everything I do
I may not be a millionaire
But I'll be rich beyond compare
As long as there are friends around like you

When I'm growing old and frail
My spirit it will never fail
As long as there are friends around like you

And when these earthly days are done
The memories will linger on
As long as there are friends around like you

For then I know you'll sing my song
For then I know you'll sing along
And talk of all the things we used to do
I may not be a millionaire
But I'll be rich beyond compare
As long as there are friends around like you

Subject: SB: "Friends" by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:25 AM

"Friends" by MMario


MMario's Comments:  This was actually composed for a renaissance faire that never got off the ground.  It has been used for a summer camp.  I offer it then for Mudcat Radio...somehow it seems appropriate for an electronic forum.


Can I call you friend, although we've barely met?
Can I call you friend, we only met today
Can I call you friend, as we go on our way
Can I call you friend, as we end our day?

I do not even know your names,
we do not speak, nor dress the same
We're here today, and gone tomorrow
Why should this be cause for sorrow?
Unless I call ye friend?

So shall I call ye friend, although we've barely met?
Shall I call ye friend, we only met today
Shall I call ye friend, as we go on our way?
Shall I call ye friend, as we end our day?

I was a stranger when I came to town
You bid me welcome and you sat me down
We sang and danced and banished sorrow
And as today becomes tomorrow, I know I've found a friend

So shall I call ye friend, I knoh we've barely met?
Shall I call ye friend, a friend I met today
Shall I call ye friend, as we go on our way?
Shall I call ye friend, as we end our day?

Now raise your glass and pass it 'round
and drink a toast to the MudCat down
And as we part, for our tomorrows
Let Joy remain, instead of sorrow!

For I will call ye friend, although we've barely met!
I will call ye friend, a friend I met today!
I will call ye friend, as we go on our way
I will call ye friend, as we end our day
As we end our day...
as we end our day...
Yes, I will call ye friend.

Subject: SB: F-R-E-E by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:24 AM

F-R-E-E by reggie miles

reggies Comments:  Here you go, another protest song. How can I protest something that's free you ask? Well, allow me the oppotunity to delineate, articulate, insinuate and illuminate further if you will. The constant badgering by various advertisers to capture my attention has taken it's toll. Now the one word that I've treasured for so many years has been reduced to being used as a cheap trick by those same advertisers to hide their true intentions. That is, to glean personal information to resell or otherwise use in an underhanded way, or to mask hidden fees. What next? It's gettin' so a body can't escape the doublespeak even in the innocent little four letter word f-r-e-e.


Four letter words don't bother me,
Except the one that's spelled f-r-e-e.
It's not that I mind when people use it.
It's just that some folks like to abuse it.

Like the guy on the phone the other day,
Who had free airline tickets to give away,
And they came with a complimentary hotel stay.
I asked, "What's the catch?" Here's what he had to say.

"You'll be flying fourth class on your trip through the sky.
You'll have to cover any taxes and fees that apply.
Your meals will cost extra in this situation."
So I hung up the phone on our conversation.

Then I received an email spam.
"Free, millions of dollars!" It began.
"Follow my instructions. Read my book.
It won't cost you a dime to take a look."

"Just send me your credit card information,
And some additional documentation,
A Social Security number and a picture I.D.,
And fill out this ten-page questionnaire for me."

"I'll need your phone number and your passport too,
Your fingerprints or a retina scan will do.
A notarized copy of your birth certificate,
And don't forget to send it in triplicate."

Then a notice came, special delivery.
You've won a house make over, absolutely free.
Well scrape and we'll paint your entire abode.
I knew that I should've said, "Hit the road!"

But the house needed paint so I said, "Okay."
And before I knew it, it was house paintin' day.
They came and they painted all the daylong.
But before it was finished they'd packed up and gone.

So there I was left with a half painted house,
And an aching back and an angry spouse.
And now six months later, it still isn't done.
Painting a house just isn't much fun.
So if you've got a free offer don't darken my door.
Don't bother emailing or calling no more.
Don't waste your breath trying to convince me.
That anything's worth having if it's F-R-E-E.

You can keep your free bargains and your two for one deals,
On software or hardware, on drinks or on meals.
I don't want your free CDs or free debt reduction.
I don't need your free books or free website seduction.

Take me off your callback list and just let me be.
There's nothing you have that I'm wanting, you see.
One last piece of advice and it's free from me.
You get what you pay for
and more than you bargain for when it's F-R-E-E.

Subject: SB: For What It's Worth by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:23 AM

For What It's Worth by Mbo

So you ask me why I love you
Well, the answer is hard to say
But I know
A drop of your existence everyday
Of my life, has changed me
And your smile drives the cold winter away...

I never knew what true love meant
I was unsure that I'd find out
But now I know
Just what it means to love another human being
Thanks to you, you are my world
And you're more beautiful than all I've ever seen...

Prechorus:
And why do I do these things, you may say
When other girls and chances try to lead me astray
From the golden road of your love...
I walk away, leave them behind
Because I'd rather close my eyes and see you inside my mind

And why do I do it?

Chorus:
For what it's worth
That's why I do the things I do
To gain a future I can share with you
Oh my love will never bend
For it's you I want to spend 
Forever with...
All I love is you, you are all I love
And I want to make you see
That what it's worth
Is worth the world to me

And I tell you now
That I'd wait for you forever
And I know
That those who dare to sever
Me from you, will not succeed
They can't change the way I feel about you, never!

And my mind
Has come to realize
That it may be
A long time yet before this hand of mine
Can hold your hand, or touch your face
Or I can gaze into your blue and shining eyes

Prechorus:
And why do I do these things, you may say
When other girls and chances try to lead me astray
From the golden road of your love...
I walk away, leave them behind
Because I'd rather close my eyes and see you inside my mind

So why do I keep going?

Chorus:
For what it's worth
That's why I do the things I do
To gain a future I can share with you
Oh my love will never bend
For it's you I want to spend 
Forever with...
All I love is you, you are all I love
And I want to make you see
That what it's worth
Is worth the world to me

What it's worth....
Is worth the world to me

(© Matthew Richards 2000)

Subject: SB: For Caroline by Bradypus
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:22 AM

For Caroline by Bradypus

Bradypus' Comments:  This song was written when my daughter Caroline was 2 days old.  It was based on two very strong feelings: firstly, how wonderful life is, especially a new life, and secondly how quickly we learn to love someone new.  I'm sure I felt exactly the same way when Caroline's sisters were born - but this time, I wrote it down so I won't forget.

How does your heart remember to beat? 
Look at your fingers, so tiny and neat 
Red puffy eyes and soft baby skin 
New little life all set to begin.

Sleep when you can, and cry when you need 
Try to look round, and take a good feed 
Awake in the night, we try not to complain 
We just want to make you happy again.

There are people to meet, there are things to be done 
But just being with you is so much more fun. 
And so I've nothing better to do 
Than sit here and wonder at you. 

Subject: SB: Floating by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:21 AM

Floating by Amergin

The fire is burning bright
Sending warmth into the room
Outside the skies are darkened
With winter's oppressive gloom
Music is playing on the stereo
A soothing medley of wintry tunes
You sit beside me, cuddle with me
For warmth in the late afternoon

Chorus:
So lay your head upon my shoulder
And kiss the curves of my throat
With the ripples of your soft lips
Into my dreams I will gently float

The wine stands in the crystal glasses
The merlot is shining a bloody red
The Christmas lights wink and dance
As yellow strands weave down your head
Whispers rise and fall with the music
Cigarettes glow in the candlelight
Glasses raise to coat our dry mouths
Heating our souls in the frigid night

Chorus:
So lay your head upon my shoulder
And kiss the curves of my throat
With the ripples of your soft lips
Into my dreams I will gently float

Blankets curl around the soft lounge
Embracing the bodies with loving desire
Four lips meet and two hands greet
In the passionate heat of the fire
Fingers caress the lines on the palm
Smiles and eyes flicker in the flames
As our hearts murmur in gentle song

Chorus:
So lay your head upon my shoulder
And kiss the curves of my throat
With the ripples of your soft lips
Into my dreams I will gently float

Subject: SB: The Flamers Game by Gareth
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:20 AM

The Flamers Game by Gareth
(Tune:  One Morning In May, or God on Our Side -- with appologies to Domnic Behan)


Come all ye mud catters, and list while I sing,
For the love of one's own ego is a terrible thing.
It banishes reason, to an anonymous guest name,
And it makes us all part of the flamers game.

My name is Guest, and I've just turned thirteen.
My home is on the internet, and where I was weaned
I learned all my life cruel micro soft's to blame,
So now I am part of the flamers game.

This forum of ours has too long been half free.
Six threads lie under the Troll's tyranny.
But nobody really is greatly to blame
For playing his part in the flamers game.

They told me how Mousethief was hit in his chair,
His wounds from in fighting all bloody and bare.
His fine words twisted, all battered and wane
They soon made me part of the flamers game.

It's nearly two months since I first logged on,
To smite, and to fight, with parodied song.
For I read of our heroes, and wanted the same
To play out my part in the flamers game.

And now as I lie here, my ego all holes
I think of those traitors who bargained in souls
And I wish that my posts had given the same
To those Quislings who played in the flamers game.

Subject: SB: The Flag With A Thousand Stars by bert
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:19 AM

The Flag With A Thousand Stars by bert
(The tune is basically 'Home On The Range,' but you'll need to add or subtract a few notes here and there where it doesn't scan.)

bert's Comments: It seems unfashionable at times to support The American Flag, but we mustn't forget that America has another flag with at least as honorable and probably even longer heritage.  That flag is the home made "folk art" flag.  We've seen a lot of them spring up in the past year and here's a song to one particular one that graced a front yard in Phoenixville, PA.

Our country has been through some times that are sad
Our President said we should all fly the flag
but in this town of ours, not a flag can be had,
a flag with the stripes and stars.

A family that lives out on Route 29
Although they'd been searching for such a long time
in all of the county not a flag could they find
that bore the stripes and the stars.

A white sheet from the closet they couldn't go wrong
Scarlet ribbons they stole from an old Christmas song
But even though they searched hard and long
They couldn't find any stars.

'Till at last in a store in an old remnant pile,
They found a remnant that made them all smile
The thing they'd been searching for all of the while
some cotton all covered with stars.

Now the stars were too small, but they thought it might do
It was just the right size and the cotton was blue
So they sewed it together and hung it in view,
A flag with a thousand stars.

Now if Route 29's on your daily commute
Look out for that flag it's really quite cute
and as you drive by, don't forget to salute
The Flag with a Thousand Stars.

Subject: SB: The First Time by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:17 AM

The First Time by Amergin

The first time that I saw you
Coming from out of the dark night
Arms opened in cheerful welcome
Enfolding me in the faded streetlight
Our lips meeting, our hearts beating
We parted only to brush our lips again
As we withstood the cool summer wind
Such was the beauty I saw then

The first time I ate supper with you
In your voice I heard the laughter sing
As we talked around Chinese and beer
And yet today I still hear it ring
Through countless springs and dying kings
I knew that we have met before
I held your hand in ageless love
As we slowly wandered out the door

There was the first time we made love
With the hotel lamps dimmed down
Running my hands along your naked flesh
As the darkness slept over the town
Your gentle skin made my head to spin
With a smile as wide as a glen
As our loving sweat sweetly mingled
Such was the beauty I saw then
Such is the beauty I see now

Then the first time we said goodbye
We held each other unwilling to let go
In the parking lot of the lumber yard
Tears alight in the summer glow
Then down the street with plodding feet
I raised my voice in loving song
Keeping time with each grudging step
Memories of your tenderness remained strong
Such is the beauty I see now

Subject: SB: Firefall by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:16 AM

Firefall by Mbo (Words & Music)


I've got a pain down in my heart
And I just can't seem to start
To do anything, bluebird has broken his wing;
Oh this world is so unkind
I've lost the force that drives my mind
Somewhere out in the cold
In the bright sunsets of gold

Chorus:
And it's sad, wherever I may go
There's always people I don't know
Though I search among the faces there
I know that no one can compare to you;
It's the darkest night in the whole of the world
And I can't see any guiding lights at all
Except for the light of the firefall
Burning up the sky, shining in my eyes

Every night you're in my dreams
The thought of you won't die, it seems
But I'll get over you one day
Isn't that what they always say?
Was it true love or a crush?
Either way, it hurts so much
What can I do?
Can't think of nought of you.

There's nothing that can replace
Your much-beloved face
Eyes so full of light
Won't give me peace at night
I avoid the blue of day
Now that you've gone away
It chokes me up inside
I have to run and hide.

Coda:
Hey, please come back!
I'm so down for the lack
Of you
Of you
Of you

Matthew Richards (2000)

Subject: SB: The First At Slane by markf
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 01:08 AM

The First At Slane by markf
(Tune: Slane)

markf's Comments:  . . . I sure would appreciate the chance to share (this song) with somebody besides my wife, whom I wrote it for. It's "The Fire At Slane," and set to the tune of "Slane.":

'Cyclin' through Ireland, my sweetheart and I
Thirty miles north of Dublin, when opened the sky
We laughed all through the downpour, we sipped falling rain
That night we dried our clothing out by the fire at Slane

Your skin was a mirror of orange and gold
Reflecting the patterns of flames dancing bold
Warmth arose between us, true love grew within
Two hearts joined together by the fire at Slane

The sun surely winked as he woke us next day
Lighting our path with his sweet yellow rays
Past castle, past stonewall, downhill and 'cross plain
We glided on the memory of the fire at Slane.

An ocean's between us and those springtime roads
Together my true love and I have grown old
But the warmth lingers us with us, love eases our pain
In our hearts glow the embers of the fire at Slane.

© Mark Flanagan 

Subject: SB: Existential Sheep by mousethief
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:53 AM

Existential Sheep by mousethief

mousethief's Comments:  This song has nothing to do with healing but it's a lot of fun to sing.  This is the sort of thing that folkies write when they become philosophy majors.  Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be philosophy majors.

When I was a little lamb, my days were filled with joy
Running through the meadows like a carefree little boy
Eating, sleeping, drinking seemed to occupy my time
And thoughts of Sartre and Kierkegaard, they never crossed my mind

Then I went to Paris, where I saw the Louvre museum
The paintings there by Salvador, my friends told me to see 'em
And when I saw the Dali show, my life was changed for bad
He made me think of all the crazy thoughts I've never had

(Chorus) And now I'm just an existential sheep
When I think of it, it almost makes me weep
My common sense has gone over the deep end
Cos now I'm just an existential sheep, my friend
Now I'm just an existential sheep

When I was a little lamb, I didn't have a care
Running through the grasslands with the flowers in my hair
Talking to the other sheep and sleeping in the sun
When you forget philosophy, it's easy to have fun

But now my life is compromised in oh, so many ways
My brain is now befuddled by a neo-post-Nietzsche haze
My friends have up and left me 'cos they say I talk too weird
And here I sit in silence, I'm just waiting to be sheared

(repeat chorus twice)

© 1981 Alex E. Riggle All Rights Reserved.

Subject: The Endless Roads by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:51 AM

The Endless Roads by McGrath of Harlow
(For the chords, click here)

McGrath's Comments:  A song about what is chillingly called "ethnic cleansing" these days.  When I wrote this it was happening in another part of what had been Yugoslavia.  Now it's Kosovo.  But the list in verse two could (and has) included so many places.  Today's refugees turn into tomorrow's persecutors.  Croats who've been driven from their homes in turn drive out Serbs who in turn drive out Albanians, who frive out Serbs.  Survivors of the Holocaust drive Palestinians from their homes.   I wish I could believe that this is a song that wouldn't keep on being topical.  The tune I sing it to is not unlike that of "The Bleacher Lassie of Kelvinhaugh", which would be a good tune to use for it anyway.


Chorus:
Here is a journey without an ending, 
Through rugged mountains and snow and ice.
Can there be victory in such a struggle?
Can there be freedom, at such a price?

To our lost homes there is no returning,
the stranger dwells where we lived so long
and a bitter taste now is all that's left now
of that lost land which is forever gone.
A last farewell now to all we've known now,
now, we turn our backs as we turn the wheel.
We turn our backs now on our burning homes now,
the broken past and the killing fields.

Here is a journey without an ending, 
through rugged mountains and snow and ice.
Can there be victory in such a struggle? 
Can there be freedom, at such a price?

From Sarajevo to far Soweto,
from Guatamala and Belfast,
from Sad Kosovo, and the Warsaw Ghetto,
with empty hands, and a heart of glass.
To Babylon we were carried captive, 
from Palestine, where the stranger rules, 
we eat our bread now in this house of exile, 
where the strong grow weak, and the wise are fools.

Here is a journey without an ending, 
through rugged mountains and snow and ice.
Can there be victory in such a struggle? 
Can there be freedom, at such a price?

And those who'd kill us were once our brothers, 
and those who help us may yet be foes,
to take their turn place on this wheel of hatred, 
that drives us out down those endless roads. 
And so it goes, will it be forever 
till the wheel stops and the madness ends? 
Look down in pity on this world of exiles, 
and teach us some way we can start again.

Here is a journey without an ending, 
through rugged mountains and snow and ice.
Can there be victory in such a struggle? 
Can there be freedom, at such a price?

Kevin McGrath - 12th May 1993

Subject: SB: Duct and Cover by reggie miles 2003
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:47 AM

Duct and Cover by reggie miles 2003

reggie's Comments:  I just got around to reading that duct tape thread from last month and my last remaining brain cell managed to squeeze out this little dittie. Submitted for your approval.


The threat of war is loomin',
Anthrax bombs may soon be zoomin',
To your bedroom in the suburbs but don't despair.

From deep within his mountain bunker,
Where Gee Dubbya's gonna hunker,
A solution to our dilemma he's sure to share.

Our best scientific minds,
Were charged to seek and find,
An all American answer to our plight,

And with the billions spent,
On research by government,
They finally discovered one that works just right.

Yes they've found it girls and boys.
Protection from those evil toys,
Affordable and available throughout the land,

Yankee ingenuity,
Has triumphed once again you see,
Providing health and safety to every woman, child, and man.

And what miracle is this,
That secures our freedom bliss,
And ensures all our blessed liberties?

What treasure is it, made by man,
That can do, what no other can,
This creation of our modern technolullogies?

It's the simplest things they say,
That can always save the day,
And it's oh so very true in this case too.

You needn't build a big bomb shelter,
You can avoid the helter skelter.
Listen closely here is what they say to do.

Just duct tape and cover your windows and your door,
With plastic sheeting you can buy at any hardware store.

It's an easy thing to do no matter if you're rich or poor,
And much cleaner than crawling 'neath your desk down on all four.

It's a lesson we've all learned in school, fifty years ago.
When we feared that the idea of droppin' A-bombs would grow.

They've changed the words to suit our times.
Instead of duck and cover rhymes.

Now we just duct tape and cover instead.

It kind of makes you wonder,
Why Gee Dubbya's way down under,
Neath the mountain in his little hidy hole.

When all he needs to do,
Is just follow me or you,
To buy some plastic sheeting and some duct tape by the roll.

Then he could duct tape and cover his windows and his door,
With plastic easily bought from any hardware store.

No need to kiss his butt goodbye,
When missiles fall down from the sky,

When he can duct tape and cover instead.

Subject: SB: The Drunkard King by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:46 AM

The Drunkard King by Amergin

The pitcher's on the bar
The glass is in my hand
The fag is in the ashtray
I'm in that wonderful land
Known as Tir-na-nog
The land of eternal youth
The beer in my belly
Slowly begins to sooth
The warmth rises to my head
I forget the sorrows of the day
As I feel this great uplifting
There's only one thing I can say:

Drunkenness is my only virtue
The pub is my second home
The taps and bottles are my subjects
The barstool is my throne

The band begins to play its jig
Lonesome songs of yearning
As they strike the first chord
The masses begin their churning
As I slowly drink in
The great water of life
I scan this mystic land
It is empty of all strife
As I sit on my drunken throne
The faeries around me prance
My feet stomp with the drums
Longing to join the dance
Suddenly I laugh and yell
So fucking loud and clear
Every head turns toward me
Their ears straining to hear
As the barman sadly tells me
That I cannot stay
But that's alright for me
Tomorrow is another day

Because:

Drunkenness is my only virtue
So, remember when I sing
That the taps and bottle are my subjects
For I am the drunkard king!

Subject: SB: The Downieville Nugget by harpgirl
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:37 AM

The Downieville Nugget by harpgirl

Come gather round people I've a story to tell
About a gambler from Reno that I know so well
In a card game in Reno he bragged he could steal
A nugget of gold in old Downieville

Eleven pounds weighed that nugget
Makin Downieville's name 
A subject of interest
In a thousand card games 

Then a bushwhacker challenged him
To show proof of his claim
Bring the Downieville Nugget
Back here to this game

Oh a gambler loves a challenge
He lives for a thrill
No woman could hold him
With a dare to fulfill

He rode into our city that very next day
And from his bold purpose he could not be swayed
Down into the valley in the old mining town
Tin roofs on the houses shown bright in the sun

We met by the river and he spun his bold tale
He thrilled me with stories till tremblin I fell
Oh a gambler is charmin I fear that I'm right
He takes what he wishes don't put up a fight

He saw that huge nugget in the old courthouse safe
In Judge Downie's chambers that very same night

He showed back in Reno 
One week to the day
Smilin a wide smile the bushwhackers say

Boys I didn't get it, I lied for the thrill
But I got me a lady in old Downieville
I'm gonna get rich boys and straight way go round
To stake my claim on that lady I found

Well the boys had their laugh
But the gambler laughed to
Sayin deal me a hand boys I've gamblin to do

Next spring he went a courtin in Downieville town
It was Judge Downie's daughter
Who finally came round

He married her proper where they met by the shore
Laughin and lovin e'r after and more
Oh a gambler loves a challenge I know awfully well
I'm the old judges's daughter
A gambler myself

Subject: SB: Down On the Border by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:36 AM

Down On the Border by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  I put this one in the Xenaphobia Thread, but it probably sits here just as well.


Down on the border, where do you draw that line?
Well here I can lay down my life for a land that will never be mine
If I was standing on the outside, you wouldn't let me in
It might be my religion or the colour of my skin

Down on the border, when you draw that line
Am I standing inside, or am I left outside?

They're telling you life should be rosy, "ain't you living in your own backyard"?
The stakes are getting higher, time to play that nationalist card
That joker's a wild one, eager to get out of the pack
It ain't so easy, trying to get the bastard back

Down on the border, when you draw that line
Am I standing inside, or am I left outside?

Does the fruit really taste better, just because it's home grown?
Why should there be an improvement, when we are ruled by one of our own?
When they come and they tell you. it's time to make a stand
Remember the good and the bad apples, growing on your land

Down on the border, when you draw that line
Am I standing inside, or am I left outside?

Whatever country claims you, it's no measure of your worth
You can take no credit, it's just an accident of birth
Why not strive for a union, a federation of states?
Sustained by co-operation, where nations are maintained on hate

Down on the border, when you draw that line
Am I standing inside, or am I left outside?

Roger Gall 1997

Subject: SB: Down On Barky's Farm by Bert
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:25 AM

Down On Barky's Farm by Bert

Chorus 1:
down on Barky's Farm 
down on Barky's Farm 
There are sausages on trees and they're swaying in the breeze 
down on Barky's Farm

We've got cotton sheep and Nylon sheep and polyester sheep 
and they grow the silk pajamas that you wear when you're asleep 
and they graze upon the Astroturf that grows by Barky's Creek 
down on Barky's Farm

Chorus 2:
down on Barky's Farm 
down on Barky's Farm 
and there's chickens with three legs laying colored Easter Eggs 
down on Barky's Farm

We've got flocks and flocks of variegated porcupines 
Some of them grow toothpicks instead of nasty spines 
and some of them grow corkscrews for opening your wines 
down on Barky's Farm

Chorus 3:
down on Barky's Farm 
down on Barky's Farm 
To grow donuts we plant rows and rows of Cheerios 
down on Barky's Farm

We've a great big herd of pumpkins, some are big and some are small 
You really ought to join us for the roundup in the fall 
We catch 'em and we brand 'em and we sell 'em from a stall 
down on Barky's Farm

Chorus 1... All together now! 
Chorus 2... ONE more TIME 
Chorus 3... 

Bert Hansell (2000)

Subject: SB: Donning The Red by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:17 AM

Donning The Red by Amergin

"Dinner is ready," the mom yells out
He sits before his corn meal mush
And pours on the baby formula
Sinking his spoon into the slush
"I don't want this again," he complains
"Eat it or not, that's all we got"
Bemused, he forces it down his throat
As the ladle descends into the crusty pot

Chorus:
But a spark of anger stirs in him
As he loses his faith in the Boss

He jumps up eagerly from his bed
And runs out to the Christmas tree
To find no presents upon the floor
And cries out in tearful pleas
His mom says, "Dad's not working
Be glad you have a roof over your head"
"This house barely keeps out the cold"
"You could be outside, freezing or dead"

Chorus:
And the spark of anger burns brighter
As he loses his faith in God

He sits before the fireplace, gazing
At the ice forming on the window panes
Huddled in his coat and blanket
Seeing the snow on the gravel lane
"Your dad's doing his best for us
The bills are too high, the wages too low"
He shivers and watches kids outside
Playing in the subzero snow

Chorus:
The anger burns into a flame
As he loses faith with the government

Now he stands, grown, watching
Bankers force his family from their home
Wondering what they'll do now
And wherever will he now roam?
"How can you take this house from us?"
The bankers just make jokes and sneer
"Maybe next time you'll pay what you owe"
They all laugh as he drops a tear

Chorus:
The fire of anger burns brighter in him
As he dons the red flag of freedom

Subject: SB: The Dinosaurs . . . by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:16 AM

The Dinosaurs . . . by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments: Here's one I wrote this morning for a thread I started about dinosaurs after going to see Jurassic Park III:


Well you had best be wary
of the Cassowary
with its claw that's reaching for your nuts
And you will wonder whether
underneath those feathers
there's a raptor hungry for your guts.
Well they may say for sure
there's no more dinosaurs,
But you will find they overstate that case -
it's no good being pedantic
when you are feeling frantic
with a dinosaur right in your face.

And my young sister Sue
she had a cockatoo,
it could sing a pretty song indeed,
but if you reached your finger
to that feathered singer,
he knew how to make that finger bleed.
Oh he could sing in chorus,
this young Cockasaurus,
but the motive for his merry screech
was to charm, then slaughter,
and to give no quarter
any fool who came within his reach.

And I once knew a goose,
and someone let her loose,
and she swaggered round and round till dark,
and with her savage hissing,
there was not much missing
to remind us of Jurassic Park.
And when I tell the story
of these birds so gory,
there's a moral there without a doubt,
for if you think at all
you'll know they're not extinct at all -
I think these dinosaurs will see us out.

© Kevin McGrath 23rd July 2001

Subject: SB: Death Row Caddy II by MichaelAnthony and Dirty
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:15 AM

Death Row Caddy II by MichaelAnthony and Dirty

Or be talkin' to the salesman 'bout that car an I say no
Jus to-be-back in Jonesbro-Georgia in that lonesome cottage home

An'-I-had-a-turn, I can't return Have a sister in Atlanta
An' beg her for her housin' never have my name on paper

Say a good god never make a man who cannot do
In this old sinful world it heartache showin'on a few

An' sometimes I will paint but not outdoors or all of the day
An' I don't have a car no more is it safe it now that I pray

Then I'll always drive a Corvette not the death row Cadillac
An' if they come to find us then I'm Dirty or I'm Jack

An' when they come at me gain cuff commutted this I fear
Cant-do-nothin kep trine kill me but I keep trine what ye hear.

If I could just undo one day back up her settin' sun
Be far from Alabama when that lousy wreck break down

Subject: SB: Death Row Caddy I by MichaelAnthony and Dirty
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:13 AM

Death Row Caddy I by MichaelAnthony and Dirty

When I left Jonesb'ro Georgy, had love 'uns callin' me back
But I stubburn left for Texas in my death row Cadillac

An' on the way 'I shoulda stayed' keep Georgy on my mind
But moving thru the highways is sompin' that feel right

Now just outside of Birmingham my thermostat it blow
My thumb or sompin' dangerous walk 8 miles To and Fro

Found a-honky-tonk in Tulsa where they eye me with suspicion
So not to disappoint no one I leftT there with ouT Payin

I lay some late nights in Tulsa jail but every day I kneel
Yet them jailers kep' my money my-old Jonesb'ro-cottage they steal

When I roll it into Lubbock fill 'er-w' gift gasoline
Found a bargain lot an sold the lousy wreck it make me mean

I work some in the kich'n but gettin' to the Mission too late
Drunk-I try my hand at gamblin' an that gamblin' come to stay

I won my share of fast despare but I kep' my own place clean
Yet the people in that city see me like I some disgrace

An I remembrin' Oklahomia an' I never ever been burn twice
So I hit the police grab me when he find the heap I won

And I could've done Just Nuthin' an savin' me doin time
But Nogood is a given and I remembrin ' Tulsa time

Then my first time there in prison though I seen my share of jail
If you think it hard in prison it worse than life in hell

Had 2 or 3 diff'rent cellmates an' one of 'em he die
Say-he-need some medicine the prison say he lie

An da third one go to death row so dark afta his trial (lonesome)
Admitin' that he did it but it weren't like what they testify

I ax him what words he say when allowed his final breath
It's 'there never been a rich man in America put to death'

If I could just undo one day back up that settin' sun
Be back in Alabama when that lousy wreck break down

Subject: SB: Dead Man Walking Blues by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:12 AM

Dead Man Walking Blues by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  There has been some discussion in various threads lately about capital punishment, rather than respond in those, I thought I would start a new thread for songs on this emotive subject. Not very seasonal but with the current situation in Iraq, I for one do not feel very seasonal.   It begs the question, would it be right to kill an individual like Saddam and others, if you knew that by doing so you could prevent the pain and suffering that people like that cause?  This song is strange, the first time I heard the title of the book/film, Dead Man Walking and before I knew what it was about, I knew I would write a song with that title. About six months later and some time after I had seen the film (which is a great film) I wrote the song. It’s a blues, on the lines of ‘Hootchie Cootchie Man’.


My lips are dry, I can’t talk
I’ve got to steel myself for one last walk
I can’t run with these chains, you see
There’s no hurry, they won’t start without me
Dead man walking, the star of the show
Dead man walking, away from death row
Dead man waking, walking slow

You may say, all my life I’ve been no good
I would have done better, if only I could
But up to now no one noticed me
Now I see myself on the T.V.
Dead man walking, the star of the show
Dead man walking, away from death row
Dead man waking, walking slow

My performance may make the news
But I won’t be around, to read the reviews
Ain’t up to me who they invite
Who will watch my first and last night?
Dead man walking, the star of the show
Dead man walking, away from death row
Dead man waking, walking slow

The good book may say it but it don’t mean it’s the truth
An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth
I did wrong on that fateful night
But two wrongs, they won’t make it right
Dead man walking, the star of the show
Dead man walking, away from death row
Dead man waking, walking slow

My deed was in the heat of that hour
But it don’t excuse the abuse of my power
But the cleaner you try to make my death seem
Just seems to make it more obscene!
Dead man walking, the star of the show
Dead man walking, away from death row
Dead man waking, walking slow

Dead man walking, the star of the show
Dead man walking, away from death row
Dead man waking, walking slow

Roger Gall 1998

Subject: SB: Darkest Central Savannah River Taliaferro
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:10 AM

Darkest Central Savannah River Taliaferro by MichaelAnthony

Well the Big Creek housing hungry bass and trout
Ya gotta be a skillful man to get em out
But in Georgia Desolation there's nothing finer
Than catching Rainbow Trout without the sun shining
In Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

The thunder in the wood there make the children shout
And though they're young they wonder what this life is all about
Find them underneath an up-turned boat
And meanwhile they file an those kids already know it
Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

Cause people shake their heads as soon as you're out the door
Feel no use in trying anymore
Ya wonder which color God does keep the score
And will you ever be delivered
From Central Savannah River
From Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

Just because you're black you're automatically a minor
There's always something from the past to put behind ya
But in Georgia Desolation there's nothing finer
Than catching Rainbow Trout without the sunshine
And if there rains a silver liner
It's in the clouds when you're delivered
Far from Dark Savannah River
Far from Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

You hang on something older brother wrote
You're gonna haf to stand up in the boat
An If you can't swim make sure you're gonna float
And keep it dry and don't cry on the paper where I wrote it
Darkest McDuffie Hancock Burke and Warren Jefferson
Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

(Harmonica)

Savannah River dark due to the mercury plant
And to work there you must not favor the color of an ant
If you try to do something there the people just tell you that cha can't
There's no god that made a woman fine and strong that she could stand it
So if you can't swim you better float
In Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

Cause people shake their heads as soon as you're out the door
Feel no use in trying anymore
Ya wonder which color God does keep the score
And will you ever be delivered
From Central Savannah River
From Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

Now they're moving 'gainst Savannah River flow
When you stand up seems impossible to row
But you can see there where lie the larger part of it
300 hearts and souls have put a good start to it
Yet some politicians would never be concerned with it
So if you wanta be somebody there you better throw it
You better use your aching head if you go with it
You will certainly never fall in love with it
But if you can't swim make sure you're gonna float
In Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

Now every man's gotta root another chance
You've got to play the game and always wear the pants
And just how you reckon they get to other planets
Leavin Darkest Savannah River Georgia Taliaferro
Darkest Savannah Jefferson
Hancock Burke and Warren
Central Savannah River
Bless the clouds when you're delivered
Far from Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

A song is just something that happens over time and then it's gone
But Georgia Desolation is something THAT GOES ON AND ON.
Every day you need a drink a little stiffer
And there's no one you would want to bring gifts to ya
Just to open up their fists for ya
And help with what you figured:
A way to be delivered In Central Savannah River
In Darkest Savannah River Taliaferro.

Subject: SB: The Dark And The Light by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:09 AM

The Dark And The Light by Mbo
(adapted from Robin Flower's translation of the Irish Gaelic poem by Richard Burke)


It seems to me this world has got some crazy notions now,
Like--girls that eyes of blue and hair of gold have been endowed
Are by and large, most beautiful--on no others will they gaze
And girls of darker hue and tint are worthy not of praise.

Myself, I do not hold with that, and never will it condone;
For I sing a song of better stuff the world has ever known;
I say that eyes alight with love to my knees will bring
And that I can be enthralled by eyes as dark as raven's wing.

Chorus:
I ask for no face of rosy-red
Or skin sun-tanned and brown
A pale complexion to me has grace
Like moonlight shining down,

I ask for no golden twining locks
All sparkling in the light
For curling jet-black tresses are
As fair as the sky at night.

O Helen was of golden braids, like sunbeams in her veil,
And in Troy 'tis said she caused a thousand ships to sail;
Oh, all for her was that proud city crushed unto the ground
Yet he mother was a beauty dark, and for that far-renowned.

And now at last the questions stands, and waits for some reply
"Of brown or gold, which is the one that we should raise more high?"
Oh, red-lipped, sweet-voiced, sparkling eyed, with hair the wind will blow
But which is fairer, dark or light, no one will ever know.

Chorus

Coda:
But is it so important that hair, and eyes, and skin
Will tell us who we should and shouldn't try their love to win?
The beauty of a person is not found in faces fair;
But mind and body as a whole reveals the beauty there.

Chorus

Matthew Richards (1998)

Subject: SB: The Culling Fields by Willa
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:07 AM

The Culling Fields by Willa
(Tune: Bonny At Morn)

Willa's Comments:  This relates to the foot and mouth outbreak here in the UK

No cows in the meadow, no lambs being born
The flames light the skyline from dusk until dawn.
(Repeat first two lines of each verse)

Chorus:
Sleepless at night, dreading the morn
The flames light the skyline from dusk until dawn.

The valley is silent, the farmyard is still
And only the smoke pall moves on the far hill.

(Chorus)

Marooned, in isolation, our hopes are all dashed
The work of generations is all turned to ash

(Chorus)

New rules and regulations, when will they ever learn
They hinder our efforts at every turn

(Chorus)

We're all laid idle, and where shall we turn
The lad cannot work and the lass cannot earn

(Chorus)

Subject: SB: The Cull by Spider Tom
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:06 AM

The Cull by Spider Tom

Spider Tom's Comments:  The definition of Cull is to kill numbers, of a species to limit their numbers.  Men do this to animals, men do this to each other, tragic but true.

And the order was sent, from Command, to the Front,
They were sending them out for the Kill.
Sprung out of the trenches, like hounds on a hunt, 
But dying like flies on the hill. 

In The Field, you own nothing, even Life's not your own,
Like the cloths on your back, you're on loan.
You're only a number, a "piece", in their Game,
Soldiers die, spill their blood to the stone. 

Chorus:
What a senseless waste of Life!
Just a stupid waste of Life!
War, a senseless waste of Life!
Devils' Darkness, steals the Light. 

Man, he learns little from, mistakes of the past,
Young men sent like lions, to the slaughter.
Where the choices aren't much, just to kill, or be killed,
And you'll fall first, if you falter. 

And there's many a business man, sat on the sidelines,
Counting the wealth, War has made him.
The vultures, the leaches, they sell to both sides,
In War, they're the only ones to win. 

The last thoughts of soldiers, lying, dieing in battle,
Most likely, go down the same path,
Last thoughts, of loved ones, or babies with rattles,
Are cut short by Death, Wars last laugh. 

We are programmed to Kill, or programmed to Cull,
Or be killed, or be culled, in the fight,
And years after battle, there's many a soldier,
Awakes, with a scream in the night. 

I dream of a day, when we lay War to rest.
Lay down the gun, and the spear.
A world, with a place for The Peace Dove to nest,
An end to the Culling and tears.

© Ken (Spider Tom) Robertson

Subject: SB: The Cuckoo Fleadh by Pinetop Slim
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:06 AM

The Cuckoo Fleadh by Pinetop Slim

There's a dijiridoo from the land of the kangaroo
And it's hummin' while some rasta man plays ska
It's a waste o' space, says the smilin' guitar ace
What's this dredlock rhythm bash at the fleadh
But the beat goes on 'til the day is done.
No one's sayin' No to music here.

We know Jackie Daley's name from Patrick Street acclaim
Around here he's a neighbor, he's a friend
And it's a pumpin' squeezebox scene
At a tiny pub called Green's
We're all hopin' that the session never ends.
And the night slips away on the slides he plays
No one's sayin' No to music here.

Chorus:
Along Kinvara Bay, first weekend in May
For three days this is where the cuckoo flies
To the pubs along the quay, the great ones come to play
For three days we feel the cuckoo's cheer.

Across the silver strings of his magic mandolin
Colfer's OfftoCalifornia touch is gold
Here's a song from Mulligan, then all join in the jam
Concertina, bodhrans and a piper bold
Ancient tunes play on 'til it's damn near dawn
No one's sayin' No to music here.

At the Merriman Hotel, Carson's playin' bloody well
But the horny crowd wants no hornpipes tonight
So he cuts loose with some pop, his trio gives 'em what they got
Kids are dancin' as we fall out the door
Woozy feet waltz on 'til the last pint's gone
No one's sayin' No to boozin' here.

(Chorus)

Coda :
From Connolly's to Flatley's
From the Pierhead to the Shawl
And don't forget good Winkle's, where Moylan rolled this ball
It's the Cuckoo Fest, and you'll get no rest
Your ears say you've got to hear it all
Your ears say you've got to hear it all
Your ears say…

Copyright ©2000 Mark Flanagan.

Subject: SB: CRAZYBIRD! by The Crazy Bird
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:04 AM

CRAZYBIRD! by The Crazy Bird

TCB's Comments:  (My Mudcat) moniker comes from a song-poem which came out of an experience I had when I was very, very down, and the song of a lark brought me back to a state of mind more bearable, or at least more stable <s> Here's the song-poem:

I'm just a crazy bird -- I have a hard time touching down,
It's hard for me to keep my feet -- there -- on the ground.
It's hard to find me with the unaided, naked eye
When I'm singing my songs up in the sky!
But, that I'm up there ! Could there ever be any doubt?
Where ever you go -- down there below --
you hear some poor boy in his agony shout:

CRAZYBIRD! Oh, CRAZYBIRD!

Won't you sing your song for me?
I'm just a poor boy headed for eternity . . .
I know I said eternity -- I might just have meant something else!
This earth can be a heaven -- this earth can be a hell!

I'm just a crazy bird -- I sing about the things I love the best:
The leafy trees, the windy breeze -- the eggs down there in my nest!
I try so hard to sing it all at once -- God knows how hard I try!
To sing of all that lives and loves -- and loves and grows and dies!
When you walk through the fields all on a summer day . . .
And the rye and wheat is standing, nodding,
golden white -- in the summer heat:

CRAZYBIRD! Oh, CRAZYBIRD!

Won't you sing your song for me?
I'm just a poor boy headed for e t e r n i t y . . .
I know I said eternity -- I might just have meant something else!
This earth can be a heaven -- this earth can be a hell!

© Chuck Cliff (1980)

Subject: SB: Crayon-Colored World by JL in Ozland
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:03 AM

Crayon-Colored World by JL in Ozland

JL in Ozland's Comments:  With thanks to Amos for coinage of the title -- this nostalgia trip is all his fault.

Whatever happened to all the colors
I knew when I was a girl?
The goldenrod days
And the cornflower nights
Flew by in kaleidoscope whirl.

Way back in the 50s, I thought that I had
A world that was shiny and new.
I wore penny loafers
And white bobby sox
And blue jeans that really were blue.

Pink poodle skirts were high fashion then
Rock and roll was a brand-new thing,
And "going steady"
Meant "almost engaged,"
And Elvis wasn't yet King.

My heroes back then were all "manly" men
Who strove for the "American Way."
Bad guys were easy,
They wore the black hats,
And no one was monochrome gray.

Roy Rogers and Trigger, Tonto and Scout,
"Hi yo, Silver, away!"
Pat and his Nellie,
Gene Autry and Champ--
Every Saturday, they saved the day.

The stars twinkled bright in cobalt blue skies
Untouched by the rumor of smog,
And under the lilacs
I played out the seasons
With my little chocolate brown dog.

Crab apple trees bore chartreuse fruit.
The mulberry trees were spring green.
A white sport coat
And a pink carnation
Were making the small-town scene.

The hot lemon sun in the Texas sky
Burned over the fields of maize,
And the old swimming hole
At Wolf Creek Bridge
Was only a turquoise haze.

Sometimes when my world is all muted hues
I wish I could visit back then,
With a brand-new box
Of 64 shades,
On my way back to grade school again.

© Lin Robinson

Subject: SB: Country Boy by NamFrank
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:02 AM

Country Boy by NamFrank

In a quaint lil' town,with woods gathered `round,
Lived a young boy of Irish descent.
Full of young man's schemes and "pipe-cloud dreams",
But mostly of honest intent.
He liked quiet places and wide open spaces,
He liked to walk all alone.
So, oh, what a pity, that he yearned for the city,
For the country was always his home.
In his eighteenth year, giving way to his fear,
He gave two years to "Uncle Sam".
And with all of his might, he learned how to fight,
Staying a year in Vietnam.
Now this "military hell", with it's screaming shells,
It frightened him to the bone.
After the heat and the fear, for nearly a year,
This "country boy" finally came home.
Then he sat down in thought, but it all came to naught,
For he had been such a fool.
With your high IQ, some are wiser than you,
For some things aren't learned in a school.

Copyright ©K.F. Leight

Subject: SB: Come Ye Back, My Love by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 23 Aug 10 - 12:01 AM

Come Ye Back, My Love by Amergin
(Tune: I'll Lay Ye Doon, Love)

Chorus:
Oh, come ye back, my love, I'll take your hand
Come ye back, my love, come back to me
Oh, come ye back, my love, I'll take your hand
Come ye back from across the sea

There is a town, by the Kootenai River
Settled in the midst of the northern hills
And as I was walking, upon the shoreline
I spied a young lass a-crying her fill

(Chorus)

I have a love, who's gone fishing up north
Among the deeps of the cold Bering Sea
And it's many a month since he's been gone
And I yearn for him to return to me

(Chorus)

Many's the day and night he trawled the water
Dragging the net behind "The Banshee",
But the storm it swept the freezing ocean
And swallowed my Willie into the sea.

(Chorus)

She opened the locket upon her breast
Inside lay a picture of her young man
Her teardrops stained his smiling face
As she walked slowly off the land

(Chorus)

To this day she still haunts my dreams
And I yet wake with a tearful sigh
I see her wading into the rushing river
Even now my ears echo with her cry

(Chorus)

Subject: SB: Cloud Cuckoo Land by Schantieman
From: Joe Offer
Date: 22 Aug 10 - 11:59 PM

Cloud Cuckoo Land by Schantieman
(Tune: Fiddler's Green by John Connolly & Bill Meek (well, probably only one of them, but I don't know who wrote which bit!); New words by Steve Freedman 2000 - 2001 with help from Graham Holland)

Schantieman's Comments:  This was as a result of a challenge by Alison Underwood (of the Shellbacks) during the Mersey Shanty Festival 2000, just after I'd sung my parody of 'Dido, Bendigo'.  Try and stay with the Fiddler's Green tune for the last verse too!

As I walked by the schoolyard one morning in May,
With the children all laughing and shouting at play
I heard an old schoolteacher make this request:
"Oh, take me away from this terrible mess!"

Chorus:
Dress me up in my gown and my mortar
No more in the classroom I'll stand
Go tell my old colleagues (who're all alcoholics)
That I'll see them someday in Cloud Cuckoo Land.

Now Cloud Cuckoo Land is the place, so they say,
Where teachers will go when they've all had their day.
Where you sit in the staff room that's full of good cheer
With the Telegraph crossword and a pint of fine beer.

Where the board's always clean and the chalk doesn't squeak
And the books mark themselves without fail every week,
Reports are all written, the kids out at play
And the OFSTED inspection is far, far away.

Now I've been a schoolteacher for many's the year
And I've had little money for whisky and beer
But now I'm retiring with no gold in store
And I never will be a schoolteacher no more.

Copyright ©2001 S. J. Freedman

Subject: SB: Children Of Erin by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 22 Aug 10 - 11:58 PM

Children Of Erin by Amos
(Tune:  The Foggy Dew)

I am but a child, of Erin born,
Where the Shannon's tide runs free 
Where the green hills stand on an ancient land 
Did my parents' love bear me 
And the world so sweet 
Heard my pattering feet 
As I reached a young girl's age 
Raised upon dark tales 
Of the banshee's wail 
And the blood of an ancient rage

In shaded glens, and the streets of men 
As a young girl I have grown 
Where the strangest song 
Was of dreams gone wrong, 
Of the keening and the widows' moans
For the boys and men, who have left our ken, 
To the hard guns lost were they. 
And the hardened hearts,
That most bitter part, 
Brought chills to a young child's days.

Could a girl, still young wish a brighter sun 
For her nation, whole, and new? 
Could a young child's dreams 
Ever speak to those 
Who had walked in the blood-red dew?
For the time does grow, as the new blood knows,
And to new hearts does unfold 
And where maidens wept,
May new vows be kept, 
That the children may grow whole.

Where fighting men died in mountain glens 
May the silent thistle grow 
Cold steel and hot blood 
Have done no thing good 
For an Irish daughter's soul.
Shall the shining light 
Of a promise bright, 
Touch the land where the Shannon flows? 
In each woman and man, may a true vow stand 
That the broken may now grow whole.

When my love I meet and our firstborn greet 
In a nearby future day, 
Should he need to know 
Of our deepest vows, 
Will he hear me gladly say 
That we gave our names
To a higher claim, 
Where the blood runs deep in the soul? 
And turned our hand to a kinder land, 
Where the children now grow whole.

©Amos H. Jessup (2000)

Subject: SB: Chicago Blues by mousethief
From: Joe Offer
Date: 22 Aug 10 - 03:02 AM

Chicago Blues by mousethief

mousethief's Comments:  (I wrote this when I first moved to Chicago for grad school in 1983. I was very lonely. There was no internet then -- I think college kids have it easier in that respect nowadays than I did. The song is very bouncy. I play it in D, and I chord up and down the skinny 3 strings and play the fat 2 (muting the low "E" with my thumb) open (I guess I could tune it down to D -- never thought of that until just now!). The "Instr. break" I play at the 10th, 9th, and 7th frets in a sort of imitation of 12-bar chord progression. I'll have to record it and put it on my website so y'all can hear it.)

Well I just moved out this month, some people still ain't heard the news
Well I just moved out this month, some people still ain't heard the news
And I wish you was with me, and I wish I was there
Cos these blues is really gettin' too much to bear
And I wish that somebody could help me share
Chicago Blues. 

Well my friends are in Olympia, Seattle, Portland, Tacoma too.
Well my friends are in Olympia, Seattle, Portland, Tacoma too.
And I'm walkin' the streets of this unfriendly town
My collar's turned up and my face is turned down
And you can see plainly why I'm wearing a frown:
Chicago Blues. 

(instr. break) 

Well drop me a letter or a postcard, I hope you do.
I said drop me a letter or a postcard, I really hope you do, I hope you do, I hope you do.
Cos my mailbox is empty and my heart's in despair.
My address is the same, I ain't goin' nowhere
And I'm sittin' here shiverin' in my long underwear
Chicago Blues. 

(repeat instr. break) 

©1983 Alex E. Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: SB: The Chestnut Ward by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 22 Aug 10 - 03:01 AM

The Chestnut Ward by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments:  I wrote a song after being in hospital for a knee operation a few years ago which seems to fit in here. It's on my website, with chords - but here are the words anyway: 

In the Chestnut Ward, 
in the middle of the night, 
propped up on your pillow 
you wait till it gets light. And though your body's aching, 
you know that it's all right, in the Chestnut Ward, 
in the middle of the night.

And over in the distance, in a little pool of light, 
there's a nurse, she'd busy writing
all that stuff they've got to write.
But you know that if you called her 
she'd be right there by your side 
and she'd tuck you in and give you stuff 
to help you feel all right,
In the Chestnut Ward...

And all around me sleeping are a bunch of broken men,
who came here to the Chestnut Ward 
to get patched up again,
and we've talked all day about our lives
and the choices that we made,
and it's hard to believe we only 
met each other yesterday.
In the Chestnut Ward... 

Old men who fought, so long ago, 
against the fall of night,
and one who went to prison, 
for he wouldn't go to fight. And one who had a comrade 
who was killed by Uncle Sam - and me, I was a baby then, 
in a shelter, in a pram.

Well, it's something like a prison camp,
and something like a jail,
and all of us are frightened men, 
though some are tough as nails.
And we all are tired and hopeful -
we're tired of all the pain,
and we're waiting till the morning
when we hope we'll walk again.
In the Chestnut Ward.... 

But they're closing down the Chestnut Ward, 
that's what the papers say.
And the people who have helped us here
will go their separate ways.
There's a cheaper way to so it, 
and the Chestnut Ward won't pay when you're getting back to basics 
in the modern kind of way.

Well the ones who'd close the Chestnut ward,
I'd cut them back to size.
I'd cut them into pieces, 
along with all their lies.
And I'd leave them lying broken -
and I wouldn't even care.
Still, perhaps they might get mended -
if the Chestnut Ward's still there.

In the Chestnut Ward, 
in the middle of the night,
propped up on your pillow 
you wait till it gets light. 
And though your body's aching, 
you know that it's all right,
in the Chestnut Ward, 
in the middle of the night.

And over in the distance, in a little pool of light, 
there's a nurse, she'd busy writing
all that stuff they've got to write.
But you know that if you called her 
she'd be right there by your side 
to tuck you in and give you stuff 
to help you feel all right.

In the Chestnut Ward, 
in the middle of the night, 
propped up on your pillow 
you wait till it gets light. 
And though your body's aching, 
you know that it's all right, 
in the Chestnut Ward, 
in the middle of the night.

(And thank God for the National Health Service, in spite of all they've done to wreck it.) 

Subject: SB: Cead Mile Failte by Pinetop Slim
From: Joe Offer
Date: 22 Aug 10 - 03:00 AM

Céad Míle Fáilte by Pinetop Slim

Oh wizard, I beg, hear my plea
Sing me the road to the key
That can unlock a heart
Near to bursting apart
With music that yearns to be free
With music that yearns to be free

(And he said) Go where the mute swans do sing
Go where Scylla wears blue in the spring
Tote your case, full of hope,
Up a challenging slope
Turn the dragon's tail and he rings
Turn the dragon's tail and he rings

Chorus:
Céad míle fáilte, céad míle fáilte
Go where your need will be welcome
Céad míle fáilte, céad míle fáilte
A hundred thousand times welcome

Find a link to the great green necklace
Cross where Muddy River once raced
Hear elegant fingers delight silver strings
Where these words mark a magical place
Where these words mark a magical place

Chorus

Comes a day when your lessons are o'er
Though, Apprentice, you must learn much more
Make a friend out of time
Gentle touch sounds a chime
Let these words from an unlocked heart pour
Let these words from an unlocked heart pour

New Chorus:
Go raibh maith agat, go raibh maith agat
Let much good be upon you
Go raibh maith agat, go raibh maith agat
A hundred thousand times thank you

Copyright ©2000 Mark Flanagan

Subject: SB: Captain O' My Heart by markf
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 Aug 10 - 03:06 AM

Captain O' My Heart by markf
(Tune: O'Carolan's Captain O'Kane)

A.    It's a myth, so they say
        Emerald land where you will never age
        Stay forever young,
        in this place the ancients named Tír na nÓg
        As I search o'er the waves
        Blinded by the diamonds scattered there
        by the sun I know
        What I seek is 'neath my feet. Tir na Nog.

(repeat A as instrumental only)

B.    And we sail o'er the sea
        Ever young ever free
        Love is wind in our sails, love's
        the chart.
        To magic lands
        When the captain o' my heart stands at the wheel
        Tír na nÓg so real, eternity is now
        When he's with me

(repeat B as instrumental)

© Mark Flanagan

Subject: SB: Candles In The Snow by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 Aug 10 - 02:24 AM

Candles In The Snow by Amergin

Two candles stand within the snow
Flickering amidst the whitened earth
Fighting the wind for the fragile life
Since the very moment of their birth

Two candles stand within the snow
Beating back the shadows of death
Silent whispers crying to the night
Sucking in the breezes gentle breath

Two candles stand within the snow
Their light reaches across countless lands
Filling the hearts of infinite homes 
They glint in the twirling frosted sands

Two candles stand within the snow
Filling my eyes with endless tears
Tears of hope, wishing they will
Continue to blaze for many years

But one candle gently flutters out
Held in a warm blanket of love
The other blazes ever brighter
Watched by a newborn star above

© Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Cambrian Colliery Disaster by bill\sables
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 Aug 10 - 02:22 AM

Cambrian Colliery Disaster by bill\sables

bill's Comments:  I wrote this song in May 1965 just after hearing the news of a mine explosion in the Cambrian Colliery, at Tonypandy in South Wales, where thirty one miners were killed.


On the seventeenth day in the month of May in the year of sixty five
An explosion happened in the pit and miners lost their lives
Eight hundred and fifty feet down below these miners were found dead
While trying to earn an honest wage to keep their families fed

Two miles from the bottom of the shaft they worked behind the plough
They little thought that they would be amongst the angels now
But in that two foot eight inch seam a death trap 'twas no doubt 
The rescue men risked life and limb to get the bodies out

There were eighty men in the pit that day, thirty six were safe and free
Thirteen were injured, thirty one killed in the explosion at Tonypandy
A blast of air then dust and smoke, the explosion shook the pit head
The manager and his assistant they were counted with the dead

No one knows what caused it, electricity or gas
We only know it happened and these miners lives did pass
We never shall forget it, this disastrous pit in Wales
Along the Rhonda Valley near the town of Clydach Vale

The queen, she sent her sympathy to sweethearts and to wives
But this could not atone for the precious colliers lives
So think of these bold miners as in their graves they lie
And pray no more explosions will cause other men to die 

Bill Sables

Subject: SB: Broken 'Okie' by the Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 Aug 10 - 02:21 AM

Broken 'Okie' by the Shambles


Live a life of 'Russian Roulette',
Running from that smoking gun.
To find the ones you leave behind you,
Ain't got nowhere to run.

If life is a sad story,
Then his was too hard to bear.
If Woody's 'Bound For Glory',
I hope, we'll all meet him there.

Woodrow Wilson Guthrie,
And his 'Fascist Killing Machine'.
It's 'Hard Travelling', Woody,
Still following the dream

Just a broken 'Okie',
Who's rambling days are done.
Won't be riding no more freight trains,

But, 'Railroad Pete' travels on,
Pete's, a tough little critter,
The kind you'd seek out as a friend.
You can tell he ain't no quitter,

He'll see it through 'til' the end.
Woodrow Wilson Guthrie,
And his 'Fascist Killing Machine'.
It's 'Hard Travelling', Woody,
Still following the dream

Roger Gall
Happy Birthday Woody

Subject: SB: Brittany's Lullaby by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 Aug 10 - 02:20 AM

Brittany's Lullaby by Amergin
(Tune: Sky Boat Song)

Chorus:
Sleep bonnie babe, like the flowers at rest,
As you lie in your mother's arms
Rock back and forth on the ocean's breast
Your smile reveals your charms

Your daddy's gone away, gone over the sea
Gone one week or ten;
But he will return, return just to see
His sweet little babe again.

(Chorus)

The moon shines bright, dancing at night
As you lie in your bed
Shadows on the wall in constant flight
Watched by your weary head

(Chorus)

Sleep little babe close your wee eyes
And sleep upon the shore
No longer, sweet babe, will you loudly cry
Daddy will sail no more

(Chorus)

As the years pass by your beauty unfolds
Watched by loving men
The day will come, soon I am told,
A woman will bloom again.

(Chorus)

© Nathan Tompkins (2001)

Subject: SB: Bring The Peace Home by Kara
From: Joe Offer
Date: 12 Aug 10 - 02:08 AM

Bring The Peace Home by Kara
(originally posted in this thread)

He was born on the Orange side,
She was born on the green
While the white of the bandages
Fluttered in-between
He learned to play on the flute and the drum
While she took the fiddle and pipe
And nobody then would have ever believed it
One of these days they might

Break down the barbed wire
Walk out of the compound
And take their own lives by the hand
The sins of our fathers the fears of our mothers
Gone way beyond our command
This all is one country from Athens to Belfast
Oslo Dublin and Rome
And we are tired of the fighting the bitching back biting
It's time to bring the peace home,
Come and bring the peace home

They met up in London after leaving 
Their hometown for dead
It did not seam to matter there
What prayers psalms or mantras you said
And the tunes they played were the same tunes
Their rhythms easily entwined
Their old names were different then
Their new names as yet undefined

We will break down the barbed wire
Walk out of the compound
And take their own lives by the hand
The sins of our fathers the fears of our mothers
Gone way beyond our command
This all is one country from Athens to Belfast
Oslo Dublin and Rome
And we are tired of the fighting the bitching back biting
It's time to bring the peace home,
Come and bring the peace home

When they brought home their daughter
Their mother she did not want to know
Told them she was born in sin
And to hell she surely would go
Well I'll tell you, Mrs. Daly
If you would just open your mind
It was not in sin but in ecstasy
And I don't mean the chemical kind

We will break down the barbed wire
Walk out of the compound
And take their own lives by the hand
The sins of our fathers the fears of our mothers
Gone way beyond our command
We all are one people black white green or orange
Every girl man and boy 
And while all that God is giving
Is this one life for living mine
I am going to enjoy 

Subject: SB: Brigade by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 06:52 PM

Brigade by Mbo
(Words & Music by Mbo)

We come marching through town with our pipes a-blarin'
With our swords upraised and our eyes a-glarin'
The song that we sing might be one that you know
Beat down the overlord, move ahead, go
We don't let anyone stand in our way
We've heard enough of what you've got to say
This town won't be our first and it won't be our last
Block our path, and we'll just push past

We're moving 'cross the land at the speed of light
From the spark of dawn to the dead of night
We've got one million in our band, and many more to boot
We remove all our obstacles, we cut right to the root
We don't let the power-hungries block our road
We move right along, 'cause mister that's our code
Don't try to stomp us out, 'cause that'll be your demise
You're gonna see us fight and bite to win the prize

Just like Vercengetorix
At the Battle of Aleysia
Hey Hey, we wanna piece of ya!
Our ultimate plans our already layed
Just don't get in the way
Of our Brigade!

The people in the past who have hindered our lives
Will hear the rattling of sabres, and brandishment of knives
They think that they can crush us with a blow of their thumb
They try to limit our advancement, when we go and when we come
They think they've got us all in the palms of their hands
But we prove they are wrong, we uphold our demands
If they think that they can slow us down, they'd better think again
For we'll fight them forever like no one else can

Just like Vercengetorix
At the Battle of Aleysia
Hey Hey, we wanna piece of ya!
Our ultimate plans our already layed
Just don't get in the way
Of our Brigade!

Matthew Richards (1998)

Subject: SB: Braunston Belle And The Number One (Shambles)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 06:51 PM

The Braunston Belle And The Number One by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  Here is one about narrow boat life.


When I first saw my Rosie, my heart flew like a bird
Our eyes met at Braunston Junction, smiled but ne'r spoke a word
I watched, as she drifted on the lock-side, like a swan on Tixall Wide
Her hair, was plaited like a fender, head held up, so full of pride

Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours

I asked for her hand in marriage and to her father we did run
But he'd vowed, that when she married, it would be to a Number One
My heart fell, when he started speaking, then Rosie, she held the floor
"I'll wed this man or no other, till then I'll work the cut no more"

Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours

I swore, that to this place I'd not travel, not to see her work on the land
I may leave here a company man, but worthy will return to take her hand
She said, she would wait for me, there, each and every Whitsun Day
Years passed, and I would hear tell, of my Braunston Belle, from all who passed that way

Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours

In time a Number One, I became, 'The Rosie' and the butty 'Ben'
Turned south, upon the 'Shroppie' for to see my Rosie again
As I passed, all the boat's would cheer, bright ribbons and bunting flew
They cleared all the flights for me, for it seemed the whole country knew

Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours

The next time, I saw my Rosie, my heart flew like a bird
Our eyes meet a Braunston Junction, smiled but ne'r spoke a word
I watched as she drifted on the lock-side, like a swan on Tixall Wide
Dressed in white, in all her splendour, as she walked on to be my bride

Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours

Roger Gall 1996

Subject: SB: Bouncing on the Bed by Trapper
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 06:50 PM

Bouncing on the Bed by Trapper
(Words and Music: Al Boyce 11/15/92)

           D       G         D     
   With my mom and dad still fast asleep
     G                D
   I kick my blankets in a heap
     G                  D
   I yawn and shake the cobwebs
           A   
   From my sleepy little head
    D      G     D
   Upon my bed I take my feet
        G                 D
   Then crouch and take a mighty leap
       G             D
   And start another merry morning
   A               D
   Bouncing on the bed
   

CHORUS:
Then it's up and down and all around
It's deep into my bed I bound
The fluff and feathers flying
Falling fast around my head
And I whoop and shout a joyful sound
And jump and pound my mattress down
Then take the heights, there's nothing quite like
Bouncing on the Bed!

Then my father opens up the door
And in a tired voice he roars
"Please cease your lusty leaping
Like a kangaroo!", he says
He stumbles back to sleep some more
And when I hear him start to snore
I cannot help returning to my
Bouncing on the bed!

Well time has passed, the years have flown
I have a house to call my own
I met and wooed my darling
On a summer's day we wed.
And now if by chance I hear a groan
And squeaking sounds that are well known
I'll go and join my babies while they're
Bouncing on the bed!

Subject: SB: Born On The Run by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 06:49 PM

Born On The Run by The Shambles

 The Shambles' Comments:  This was a song that I wrote about the life of the wildebeest (or the gnu).  It was suggested to me, after I had sung it once, that it was more about another certain two-legged mammal.

Born on the run
The wildebeest come
Running from dawn
To the setting sun
The travelling days are never done
Under the watching sky

Got to learn
From when you're torn
From your watery home
One the day you're born
A crashing ball, all hoof and horn
To stumble is to die

The advancing throng
Their lives, not long
The weak must perish, to enable the strong
To endure and pass the memory on
Under the watching sky

Born…On the run
Born…On the run
Born…On the run

Where to cross
Where to pass
Where to find those oceans of grass
Times of plenty, that will not last
Under the watching sky

There's no choice
Must follow that voice
That calls out loud, above the noise
Though river roar and rivers rise
Under the watching sky

The lion that hides
Needs to feed her pride
On the lost, the lame, the weak and the tired
The predator too, is driven inside
Under the watching sky

Born…On the run
Born…On the run
Born…On the run

Just part of the chain
The bones of the slain
Feed the soil, that covers the plain
New life, will follow the rains

Under the watching sky

© Roger Gall 1997

Subject: SB: Bodie by Mudjack (Jack Roberts)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 06:48 PM

Bodie by Mudjack (Jack Roberts)


Theres no easy life for anyone in Bodie
Hard working people are the miners of town
Cold cold winters were known in Bodie
They sorted the ore, took the gold from the ground

refrain
OH BODIE, OH BODIE , WHERES ALL THE GOLD ?
OH BODIE, OH BODIE YOU LITTLE TOWN SO OLD

Many a miner dug his grave out in Bodie
Good God is it ever so cold out in mines
Many a lady sold her soul out in Bodie
It's a hard hard town where the sun seldom shines

ref rain

She sells her love for the gold out of Bodie
She's a cold cold woman who sells her soul
Theres a mighty cold wind that blows in Bodie
She's the only true love to the miners young and old.

repeat 2nd and 3rd verses

OH BODIE OH BODIE WHERES ALL THE GOLD
LITTLE WOMAN OF BODIE HAS GONE WITH THE GOLD

Subject: SB: Blue Collar Blues by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 06:47 PM

Blue Collar Blues by reggie miles

It's Friday night and I'm feelin' all right,
another weekend is finally here.
I've worked five long days,
for this two day break.
I think I'll have
another glass of cheer.

Cuz I'm a blue collar man.
I've got a nine to five job.
I've got a wife and two kids
and a dog named Bob.
I'm a blue collar man
workin' in a white collar world.

I rent a three bedroom house
with bills that won't quit
and a yard that I need to mow.
I drive a '74, 4-door, used oil guzzler with an AM radio.
And I ain't gettin' rich so I can't get ahead.
It's a struggle just to keep my poor family fed.

I'm a blue collar man, workin' in a white collar world.

If I had my way there'd be some changes made
to help the hard workin' family man.
I'd ship the jobs of those bureaucratic, bean countin' geeks
to a third world distant land.
And what a sight it would be to see them standin' behind,
all of me and my friends in the food bank line.

I'm a blue collar man, workin' in a white collar world.

Cuz if those white collar guys could walk a mile in my shoes,
you can bet they'd be singin' these ol' blue collar blues.

I'm a blue collar man workin' in a white collar world.

© Reggie Miles

Subject: SB: Bloody Edward by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 04:32 PM

WILLIE-O'S SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!

Willie-O's Song Challenge:  The way the contents of Áine's Mudcat Songbook are ordered, the first song listed is my ballad "1743", because the index puts numbered titles in sequence first, then alphabetizes the rest.  So here's my challenge: write a song about a year or event which preceded 1743 AD, (as far back as 1742 BC actually), entitle it accordingly, and knock me out of the top spot! I dare ya!


Bloody Edward by Mbo

Mbo's Comments:  I wrote a song all about William Wallace's exploits after watching Braveheart, but know after reading the REAL history and finding out that the movie was a big crock of hooey (I HATE what they did to The Bruce) I don't sing it anymore . . . but if you want to see the historically inaccurate lyrics, I'll be glad to post them. BTW I kept the tune . . . it became "Robert The Bruce's March." It was the first Celtic song I wrote--and spawned the whole songwriting thing for me. Sins of my young age.


In days of yore, so long ago 
We marched out, to meet the hated foe 
So that our bonnie homeland would not go 
To the bloody English King, oh oh 
To Bloody Edward, King.

We met them on the field that day 
At Stirling bridge we had our say 
We drove the English foe away 
To our land come no more, no no 
To our land come no more

The valleys echoed with the sound 
Of many boots that shook the ground 
Our Highland pipes, they drove us on 
To claim what did to us belong 
The clan's old tartans there arrayed 
And claymores sharp in arms upraised 
'Cross places no one had been before 
Scotland's men--we go to war! 

We took the Highlands, we took the Low 
From the Isle of Skye to Edinburgh 
And places only Scotsmen know 
From the bloody English King, oh oh 
From Bloody Edward, King.

Sir William Wallace led our lot 
Through winter freezing and summer hot 
A grim and awesome force he wrought 
Against the bloody English king, oh oh 
Against Bloody Edward, King.

Well, Bloody Edward and his host 
They gave the wound that hurt us most 
At Falkirk our army was made a ghost 
By the bloody English king, oh oh 
By Bloody Edward, King.

The valleys echoed with the sound 
Of worn-out boots that tread the ground 
Our Highland pipes, they did not play 
As we retreated back the way 
That we had come so long ago 
The ways that only Scotsmen know 
'Cross places we had fought before 
The Scottish men return from war.

Well, we carried on the fight for years 
Both shedding blood and shedding tears 
Trying not to show our fears 
The the bloody English king, no no 
To Bloody Edward, King.

They captured Wallace--what an end! 
They hoped with torture then to bend 
His mind, instead he gave his head 
To the bloody English king, oh oh 
To Bloody Edward, King.

It was a horrid day for all 
But Robert the Bruce took up our call 
Again we march out straight and tall 
Against the bloody English king, oh oh 
Against Edward's son, the King.

The valleys echo with the sound 
Of many boots that shake the ground 
Our Highland pipes, they drive us on 
To reclaim what does to us belong 
The clan's old tartans there arrayed 
And claymores sharp in arms upraised 
'Cross places Death had seen before 
Scotland's men we go to war.

Well, we gained our freedom, gained our land 
With gallant Robert, we made our stand 
Yes we, the valiant Scottish band 
At Bannockburn we won, oh oh 
At Bannockburn WE WON!

Matthew Richards (1997)

Subject: SB: The Blackboard Singer by Shimbo Darktree
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 04:30 PM

The Blackboard Singer by Shimbo Darktree
(Words:  Ian Clarke; Tune:  Blackboard of my Heart)

A young folk singer went down to a folk club Friday night,
He wrote his name up on the board, and hoped he'd spelt it right,
He'd practised his whole repertoire for three months and a day,
And both the songs were perfect, 'cause he'd tried them every way.

And the MC rubbed his name off from the blackboard on the wall,
He said, "We want those that we know, and we don't know you at all.
So take a hike, get on your bike, go home without a fuss,
The blackboard's for the older crowd, and you're not one of us.

You've not been singing thirty years, like many of us here,
Your hair's not grey, your cheeks don't sag, you don't drool in your beer,
You haven't got a midriff pot, so listen to me mate,
To get onto that blackboard, for thirty years you'll wait."

The young folk singer the next day went to his local bank,
And got a loan to start his own club with his best friend Frank (it rhymes!)
One year and it was a big hit, when through the teenage horde,
Came an ancient balding folkie, wrote his name up on the board.

And the MC rubbed his name off from the blackboard on the wall,
He said, "We want those that we know, and we don't know you at all.
So take a hike, get on your bike, go home without a fuss,
The blackboard's for the younger crowd, and you're not one of us.

The moral of this little tune should be quite clear to all,
If you long to sing your song at a club or in a hall,
Do not enrage those not your age by pushing in your snout,
Or, like my mate, your final fate will be to get rubbed out.

Subject: SB: The Black Velvet Band by Mbo
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 04:29 PM

The Black Velvet Band by Mbo
(Words by Mbo, Tune - Traditional)

Chorus:

Oh her eyes they shone like the diamonds
You'd think she was queen o' the land
And her hair hung over her shoulders
Tied up with a black velvet band

In a fair little city called Belfast
I found myself wand'ring around
An out-of-work young good-for-nothing
Looking for trade in the town.
But I had not the brains or the training
A high-paying job for to land
And I couldn't foretell all the trouble
That'd spring from a black velvet band.

So one evening late as I rambled
Through Belfast's less-prosperous hub,
I met with a girl angel-beautiful
Serving whisky and ale in a pub.
I told her right there I adored her
Oh, she held my heart in her hand
And she kissed me with lips red as roses
I was gone for the black velvet band.

I said we could leave there together
And be married by Father Jerome,
But she told me her thousand-pound fortune was locked
In a safe in her grandfather's house.
First we'd get it, and then we'd be married
With money more than we could stand;
I couldn't have known the misfortune that'd come
So I followed the black velvet band.

When we arrived at her granddad's house
It was locked and unlighted within;
She said he was on a trip to Cork
So she picked the door lock with a pin.
She managed to get the safe open;
We were leaving with money in hand
But an army of peelers arrested us
Bad luck to the black velvet band.

The judge said "We finally caught you, girl!
And your new accomplice friend.
You've robbed twelve other fine Belfast homes,
And it's here that your thieving will end.
I'm convicting you both in this matter
You're sailing for Van Dieman's Land
You can live out your best years together
This boy and the black velvet band."

So come all you jolly young fellows
Please take of this warning from me:
Whenever you're up around Belfast-town
Beware of those pretty colleens.
For here we are in Australia
Plowing the bush and the sand;
And the tie that binds us together
Is the knot in her black velvet band.

Matthew Richards (1999)

Subject: SB: Black Nylon Thread by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 02:59 PM

Black Nylon Thread by Amergin
(Tune: Black Velvet Band)

In the bright little town called Portland
A man sat hiding his tears
Behind his full glass in a pub
As he slowly counts back the years
To times of sorrow and happiness
And tomorrow he sees with dread
Picturing himself in the hallway
Hanging by a black nylon thread

Chorus:
And his eyes they were glazing over
As his life within him slowly fled
And bruises etched into his throat
As he hung by a black nylon thread

When he went back home that evening
The emptiness burned him inside
He saw the bare bed where once she lay
And he laid himself down and cried
He remembered the soft touch of her hand
As she gently stroked his damp head
Then he sees himself in the hallway
Hanging by a black nylon thread

(Chorus)

Next morning he opened his closet
He took the cord from off the floor
And he tied it to the ceiling fan
Thinking of the joyful times before
He quietly stepped from his chair
And his tongue lolled out his head
And he stood there swinging in the hallway
Hanging by a black nylon thread

(Chorus)

The very next day they found him
And the note laying upon the floor
Saying, "I'm sorry I'm no longer here
But I cannot take it anymore."
They cut him down from where he swung
From where his life had fled
And they carried him out in a bag
As dark as the black nylon thread

(Chorus)

©Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: Black Is The Colour (Of My True Love's Eye)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 02:58 PM

Black Is The Colour (Of My True Love's Eye) by Amergin

Amergin's Comments: ok...seeing the title of the Black Is The Colour thread...well it stuck in my mind....and so early this morning...I just wrote this parody....

Black is the colour of my true love's eye.
Dark are the bruises upon his thigh,
His lips are bloody, his nose is smashed,
From that black night I kicked his ass.

I met my love just outside the bar
We talked for hours neath the moon and stars
We spoke of love in the days to come,
And then he asked if we could be as one.

My heart did flutter and like a fool
I said yes I would wish that too,
Wrote my folks a letter just a few short lines
Telling to them it was real this time.

That next night as I walked by the shore,
I saw him there with a two dollar whore,
I watched as he softly kissed this girl
His hands caressing her soft blonde curls.

My heart did break and I began to moan
I started to yell I started to groan.
I rushed upon him and he fell down
And my screams were heard all over town.

Black is the colour of my true love's eye.
Dark are the bruises upon his thigh,
His lips are bloody, his nose is smashed,
From that black night I kicked his ass.

Subject: SB: Bitter Words by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 02:57 PM

Bitter Words by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  This is a song about that wonderful moment just before the sky falls on top of you.

Bitter words, sung sweetly
The whole truth, but not completely
Bitter words…. Sung sweetly by you
My world, broken in a minute
My life and all that's in it
My world…. Is broken in two
Bitter words, sung sweetly by you

I looked up to see the sun, instead I saw the moon
Somehow the words don't fit the tune?
When I first heard it, no wonder I got it wrong
I knew the singer but not the song
Well you sang so sweet, that music to my ear
It's just those words I don't want to hear
Your timing was OK and the place was fine
But, there's no right place and no right time

Bitter words, sung sweetly
The whole truth, but not completely
Bitter words…. Sung sweetly by you
My world, broken in a minute
My life and all that's in it
My world…. Is broken in two
Bitter words, sung sweetly by you

It don't matter how you disguise it, when you aim that low
It still feels like a hammer blow
If you don't see it coming you can't break your fall
You just take the full force of it all
I thought I was 'boxing clever', then I hit the floor
Like a fool I stood up for more
I thought we were only sparring, but this was the 'big show'.
Why was I the last one to know?

Bitter words, sung sweetly
The whole truth, but not completely
Bitter words…. Sung sweetly by you
My world, broken in a minute
My life and all that's in it
My world…. Is broken in two
Bitter words, sung sweetly by you

© Roger Gall 1999 

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Joe Offer
Date: 11 Aug 10 - 02:34 PM

Well, gee, I started a Mudcat Songbook PermaThread today. When I posted 001 by Amos, it was deja vu all over again, and I realized I had already started this project in January (and then run out of steam).

Mousethief volunteered to continue and perfect this project. Please note that this is intended to be a duplicate of Aine's Mudcat Songbook, so all other messages will eventually be deleted.
-Joe-

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: katlaughing
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 10:56 AM

I think the threads were usually labelled as "Song Challenge."

Subject: SB: The Bigot's Song by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 05:36 AM

The Bigot's Song by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:   As for bigots: SONG WARNING - SONG WARNING. This one is down to my Geography teacher and it was just about the only constructive thing I remember learning there. He told me that the phrase, 'present company excepted', was the last refuge of the bigot. It enabled the bigot to give full rent to her prejudice, whist seeming to excuse the individuals present, from it. Sorry about that.... I was only teasing. I was going to say 'he', and 'his' but stopped and went to put 'them and 'their', but then I just couldn't resist it. Would anyone have picked me up for saying 'he' and 'his', in this context, I wonder, or are all bigots male? Just to add yet another subject to this thread.

Present company excepted, they're robbing us blind,
It's my view, that I'm entitled to and its true I'm 'gonna' speak my mind
Present company excepted, they think that they're 'high fliers',
It's understood, that they're no good and should be known as cheats and liars
Present company excepted, you're the only one, that I might trust,
It's clear to see, you're a lot like me and nearly could be one of us.

Present company excepted, they've got it laid on a plate,
its such a shame, they're all the same, I blame it on the Welfare State.
Present company excepted, they seem to need to shout it,
With that hair and the clothes they wear, can't bear to even think about it.
Present company excepted, well you wouldn't know it,
You look all right, appear quite bright, well you might be but you don't show it.

Present company excepted; do they really believe it?
All the fuss they make, for religion's sake, well me, I can take it or leave it.
Present company excepted, I'm sorry if I tread on your toes,
I want to make it clear, to all those here, you don't appear to one of those.
Present company excepted,..... Why has everyone departed?
Well it goes to show, they have to go, when they know that they've been out-smarted.

Roger Gall 1997.

Subject: SB: Better To Fail by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 05:34 AM

Better To Fail by The Shambles

Don't just say, "oh it would be good".
"Yes, but, well, if only we could".
Just grab the bull by the horns,
Take the roses, don't mind the thorns
If you've got a favourite scheme,
Are you just going to sit there and dream?
Don't worry the children might do,
They're more ready for adventure than you.

Stand up proud, don't try to hide,
Say it loud, don't keep it inside.
It's better to fail, than to never have tried,
It's better to fail, than to never have tried,

How will you ever know,
If your talent might grow?
If you don't water the flower it dies
Open the cage and see the bird fly.
So come on, what's your excuse,
What do you really, really, have to lose?
If you make a small sacrifice,
You may find it's well worth the price?

Stand up proud, don't try to hide,
Say it loud, don't keep it inside.
It's better to fail, than to never have tried,
It's better to fail, than to never have tried,

Well you don't have to try to be the same,
I know it's hard, not to play that game.
But we are all different it's true,
It's only you can do the things you do.
Stand up proud, don't try to hide,
Say it loud, don't keep it inside.
It's better to fail, than to never have tried,
It's better to fail, than to never have tried,

Roger Gall 1996.

Subject: SB: Bess Is Our King by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 05:31 AM

WILLIE-O'S SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!

Willie-O's Song Challenge:  The way the contents of Áine's Mudcat Songbook are ordered, the first song listed is my ballad "1743", because the index puts numbered titles in sequence first, then alphabetizes the rest.  So here's my challenge: write a song about a year or event which preceded 1743 AD, (as far back as 1742 BC actually), entitle it accordingly, and knock me out of the top spot! I dare ya!


Bess Is Our King by MMario

MMario's Comments:  The "Mary Tudor"/"Mary Stuart" identity mixup is one of my pet peeves; especially since I have had people rant on to me about Bess killing her sister (her sister was dead before Bess got the throne). Of course Mary Stuart was a relative too, but cousin's daughter IS at least a bit further removed then sister.


England has no king, some people say;
Bess Tudor's in need of a man
She's getting a bit long in the tooth
Better grab one while she can!

But Bess is our King, I'm glad to say,
What need for a man on the throne?
She's doing the job, why should we complain?
When she's doing just fine on her own

Ol' Bloody Mary, now she was wed
Took Phillip of Spain to her bed!
She hoped for an heir, and maybe a spare
But all it got her was dead!

But Bess is our King, I'm glad to say,
What need for a man on the throne?
She's doing the job, why should we complain?
When she's doing just fine on her own

Mary of Scotland had Husbands three
Two died, and one ran away
Now she's all alone, and she's lost her throne
Because of the men in her way

But Bess is our King, I'm glad to say,
What need for a man on the throne?
She's doing the job, why should we complain?
When she's doing just fine on her own

Isabella they say, was the ruler of Spain
But Ferdinand claimed the same
When she'd say "aye" then he'd say "Nay"
And vice-versa the other way!

But Bess is our King, I'm glad to say,
What need for a man on the throne?
She's doing the job, why should we complain?
When she's doing just fine on her own

Catherine the Great, just couldn't relate
to the men in Russia 'tis said
and that is why, on the day that she died
she was with her horse instead!

But Bess is our King, I'm glad to say,
What need for a man on the throne?
She's doing the job, why should we complain?
When she's doing just fine on her own

Subject: SB: Bert's Song Pages
From: Joe Offer
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 05:29 AM

Bert's Song Pages

Subject: SB: Being Vulgar by Spider Tom
From: Joe Offer
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 05:16 AM

Being Vulgar by Spider Tom

My mother taught me proper,
I never slurp my soup,
And I've never wiped
My nose upon my sleeve,
But, I think,
I just said "farted"
Instead of "broken wind",
I hope that no one,
Took offence, to leave.

Chorus:
Being vulgar, being vulgar,
You might never learn good manners,
Wandering 'round the mulga,
But, you learn to be, highly skilled at,
Being vulgar.

I'm a true and proper gentleman,
Mostly, all the time,
I even lower loo lids,
As I'm leaving.
I cock my little finger,
When I'm drinking my high-tea,
Though they tell me,
Appearance is deceiving.

Chorus

I have learnt,
The social niceties,
That make a man acceptable,
I know that on occasion,
My writings are objectionable,
And I'm sorry,
If I caused you any pain.
You're lucky you're not,
Living in my brain.

Chorus

Subject: SB: Before We Knew His Name by Dharmabum
From: Joe Offer
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 05:14 AM

Before We Knew His Name by Dharmabum

Before we knew his name,
He was just another kid,
A boy we never heard of,
Somewhere else is where he lived, 

He could have come from anywhere,
Been in any other place,
We would have never known,
His name or seen his face, 

But politicians saw the chance,
To gain the upper hand,
They'd tell this young boy's story,
And spread it cross the land, 

They told us of his journey,
To the land of liberty,
Now he's without a father,
And his mother's lost at sea, 

Before we knew his name,
He was like any other kid,
He was more concerned with playing,
Than where he had to live, 

I wonder if we asked him,
I wonder what he'd say,
But a kid can't make decisions,
About where he wants to stay, 

And what about the kids,
Whose names we do not know,
Falling through the cracks,
Of a system that's too slow, 

And when this story's over,
And the T.V. crews are gone,
They'll fly away like vultures,
And forget young Elian. 

Subject: SB: Ballade of Moderate Compassion by McGrath
From: Joe Offer
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 05:13 AM

Ballade of Moderate Compassion by McGrath of Harlow

McGrath's Comments:  Ballades are a very satisfying way of letting off steam sometimes - they focus the anger and direct it in a controlled way. More like a knife than a club.&bnsp; Here's one I did a few years ago about some of the attitudes some fellow social workers used to reveal at times - and a particularly phrase that always used to enrage me.  (Especially in relation to anything to do with services for people with disabilities.):

Poor Mrs Brown is sick and tired and old,
And Mr Jones is muddled in his brain,
And Mary's child is crying in the cold,
and John is sleeping in the wind and rain;
they look for rescue, but they look in vain.
No lifebelt comes, instead these words are hurled:
"Your case is hard, but no good to complain -
we are not living in A Perfect World."

You longed for sea and sands of shining gold,
you booked your holiday in Sunny Spain -
you should have gone by train, but you were told
"It's quicker and more pleasant on the plane".
A slight diversion took you to Bahrein,
with blackened sands, where stinking oil slicks swirled,
you watch the seagulls down, and you explain
"We are not living in A Perfect World."

The sky grows dark, the world is bought and sold.
Christ on his cross dies for his own again;
the shepherd falls, the wolf is in the fold,
and all around are cries of grief and pain.
You measure out your pity grain by grain,
your neat umbrella is so tightly furled.
In face of agony, your tired refrain -
"We are not living in A Perfect World."

Prince of a thousand forms that measure pain,
your comfortable lips in judgement curled,
God knows you'd not be here, that much is plain
If we were living in A Perfect World.

Subject: SB: Ballad of A Would-Be Mudcatter by ScottyG
From: Joe Offer
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 05:12 AM

Ballad of A Would-Be Mudcatter by ScottyG
(Tune: The Ballad of Jed Clampett)

I ain't a famous folkie or blues artist of renown,
And my name ain't on the marquee of the best venue in town.
I don't get paid for singin' songs; I sing 'em just for fun,
And I won't boast about the singin' contests that I've won.

Amateur, that is. Nothin' fancy. No big deal.

I really am a tuneful guy, so I should fit right in,
Yet I hardly get acknowledged here. Good thing I got thick skin!
I'm a half-way decent songster, folks, or so I'm often told.
So tell me, 'Catters, what's it take to get into your fold?

Short of crawlin', that is. Won't catch me doin' that.

Y'all are such a clever lot; your wit I much admire.
Your collective recognition, it's to that which I aspire.
But my posts must go unnoticed, 'cuz I hardly get replies,
No matter what discussion thread to which my post applies.

I ain't no flamer or a no-name guest. And I don't spam anybody. So what gives?

Now, no one likes to be ignored, egotist or not.
And it seems to me, that since I joined, I've all but been forgot.
Sure, I had a couple comebacks to the LYR REQ posts I sent
When I first surfed in to Mudcat but, that has been the extent.

Don't get me wrong. I ain't ungrateful. But a little feedback would be nice, ya know.

When I said I don't feel welcome, though the Mudcat makes me smile,
Joe Offer said to stick around, sometimes it takes awhile.
Then I see these posts from newcomers like Celtic Soul, for one,
And THEY get lots of welcomes; Makes me wonder what I'VE done.

So what am I, folks, chopped liver? I'm startin' to get a complex here.

I swear I just can't figure how to hook up with your clique.
It's like my posts just run into a wall of cyber-brick.
Nobody ever says, "hello", or "good to hear from you."
If I've offended anyone, I can't imagine who.

Never meant no harm. And I try not to stick my nose in where it don't belong.

Now, you might call this a hissy-fit, say I'm paranoid 'n such,
But ask me if I feel at home. My answer is, NOT MUCH!
What should I think about all this? Should I take it as some sign?
And, before you ask, I've got some cheese that suits my "wine" just fine.

Aged, that is. Vintage wine, too. Real good year.

Don't wanna be a nameless guest in anonymity,
I wanna be a member of the Mudcat family.
But if y'all think I don't belong, then just be straight with me.
If that's the case, this is the last you'll hear from ScottyG.

Y'all post back now, ya hear?

Subject: SB: The Ballad of Karla Faye Tucker by Ivan
From: Joe Offer
Date: 15 Jan 10 - 05:08 AM

The Ballad of Karla Faye Tucker by Ivan

Ivan's Comments:  The final line originally went " But the lone-star state of Texas, it bears the greater shame" but after Governor Bush won the presidential nomination I figured that he should have greater prominence.  This song is based on actual events (as they say for all those TV movies) but please remember it is a BALLAD not a history.  The background information was sourced from various places including CNN and Karla Faye Tucker's own autobiography, with a fair degree of poetic licence. In particular, any remarks attributed to individuals are paraphrased from their reported comments - not verbatim quotes (libel lawyers please take note!)  The tune I wrote it to is adapted from the traditional tune for "Frankie and Albert" (the original version of the "Frankie and Johnny" song) as recorded by Rory Block, but with bars nine and ten (- he was her man -) missed out. I.M.

Karla Faye was a bad girl,
an addict by the age of ten
She sold her body on the streets of Houston
to pay for heroin
To pay for heroin. 

By twenty-one she was a call-girl
and a drug-dealer by trade
With her boyfriend Daniel Garrett
lived a life of sin and shame
A life of sin and shame. 

Now her brother-in-law, name of Jerry Dean,
had been beating up his wife
Karla Faye planned to take revenge
by stealing his motorbike
His beloved motorbike. 

After a three-day orgy
of drugs and drink and sex
Karla and Daniel and a friend named Jimmy
put the plan into effect
They put the plan into effect. 

They went round to Jerry's building
and sneaked into the place
They thought that he was out of town
but took weapons just in case
Took weapons just in case. 

But Jerry was at home that night
lying in his bed
Daniel took a hammer
and he struck him on the head
He struck him on the head. 

Then Karla grabbed a pickax
as she heard him moan in pain
She swung the axe at Jerry's head
and smashed up Jerry's brain
She smashed poor Jerry's brain. 

Now Deborah Thornton had hidden away
when she heard them coming in
She screamed out loud when she saw the deed,
sealed her fate right there and then
Sealed her fate right there and then. 

Twenty strokes of the pickax
until the deed was done
When the police asked why she did it
she said it was just for fun
Said it was just for fun
. 
Well Jimmy turned states evidence,
the law let him walk free
But the judge would not allow Karla Faye
any mitigation plea
No mitigation plea. 

In prison she stole a bible
and took it to her cell
She read from it night after night
then on her knees she fell
Down on her knees she fell. 

She said "Lord there is no reason
for you to listen to what I say
I'm the very worst of sinners",
but He listened anyway
He listened anyway. 

She became a preacher
while still in prison bound
She helped so many others there
to turn their lives around
To turn their lives around. 

The police and prison authorities
agreed onto a man: 
"She helps so many to mend there ways
like no-one else here can
Like no-one else here can".

Even the brother of the girl she killed
spoke for her by and by
Said "I forgive this woman
and I pray she will not die
I pray she will not die".

And hell-fire preacher Pat Robertson,
and he's no liberal man
He said "This is a special case
I'll help her all I can. 
I'll help her all I can".

The appeal court sat in a crowded room,
the judges side by side
Said: "The laws of the state of Texas,
they cannot be denied
They will not be denied".

They set the execution date,
said: "This is what must be
And the only thing that will save you now
is a governor's decree
The state governor's decree".

Governor Bush he stood his ground,
like Pilate he washed his hands
He said "I cannot judge this case,
I'll leave it in God's hands
I'll leave it in God's hands".

With Karla Faye strapped in the chair
a silence filled the hall
The very last word this woman said
was "Friends I love all"
"Friends I love you all".

The crowd gathered round the prison gate,
singing and drinking beer
When the word came down that Karla Faye died
you should have heard them cheer. 
Lord, you should have heard them cheer. 

Now Karla Faye was a bad girl,
with evil to her name
But George W. Bush and the state of Texas,
they bear the greater shame.
They bear the greater shame.

© Ivan McKeon

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: Amergin
Date: 14 Jan 10 - 04:50 PM

I know you don't want people to post in here, but I have a suggestion that some of the songs not being found may be located in the mudcat songbook submission threads.

---

Thanks for the idea, Amergin. I didn't really follow the compilation of the Songbook, so I'm a little in the dark. I did find that one song that was missing at archive.org one day, appeared the next. Go figure.
-Joe-

Subject: SB: Back To Basics by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 14 Jan 10 - 03:14 AM

Back To Basics by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:   I wrote my thoughts about education in this song a little while ago as it stopped me 'ranting on' in company.


When we talk about education, we all have our views
It's a shame for our children, it's usually bad news
This National Curriculum, ain't it a good idea?
Until you look at the Public Schools, "we don't have to follow it here"

When they say "back to basics", we don't doubt it
We think that we all agree, until we talk about it
Your idea of basics, is not the same as mine
You may find that this simple idea, is hard to define

In so called 'primitive' cultures, they're taught what they need
To take their places in the world and join their society
Yes, our system teaches, well at least up to Primary
Then we are all channelled down, the road to G.C.S.E.

When mass education started, it was for liberty
The idea was, if you could read and write, then you too could be free
The system has been hi-jacked, to provide for industry
Which, if you look around us now, just doesn't seem to be

You have one level of attainment, and you devise a test
You only need to look at those passing and throw away the rest
Then you have too many passing and you have to work hard again
So bring in another level, "we'll use the few that remain"

Take a system that's built on failure, mix with our 'class system' as well
A recipe for disaster, education made in hell
"But it can't be that bad", do I hear you say?
"If I had to go through it, why then shouldn't they"?

We must be doing something wrong, have we money to burn?
It must be an indictment, if you have to force children to learn
I remember, when I was young, I took all that I could get
And now I know, I won't know it all, I've not stopped learning yet

Our children are in chains, chains called education
You know we really don't teach them at all, it's just qualification
So come on don't waste your time, come on and be a thinker
Don't swallow the bait that they drop, don't take it 'hook line and sinker'

We have stored a lot of knowledge, about our society
We should be able to reach our children, with our technology
Then maybe we could teach them the things that they need to know
Or are we just frightened of, the things they might overthrow?

I don't have all the answers, the children, they may have a few
Why not ask the poor teachers, they may have one or two
Don't ask the politicians, with their vested interests
Just send them all back to school and I'll devise a test

©Roger Gall. 

Subject: SB: Autumn Gold by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 14 Jan 10 - 03:12 AM

Autumn Gold by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  This is a song (of hope) for all those Mudcatter's who may be feeling that they are 'over the hill'.

No summer songs, it's getting late,
The shortened days have sealed your fate.
The mists rise,
Cloud your eyes.
You've lost the prize, but wait.....

Autumn gold, the story's in the telling, not yet told.
Autumn gold, the wind blows chill, but not yet cold,
Autumn gold, not young, but not yet old.

A glass half empty, or half to fill?
You're over the worst, or you're over the hill.
The end on the line?
You've had your time.
Past your prime, but still.....

Autumn gold, the story's in the telling, not yet told.
Autumn gold, the wind blows chill, but not yet cold,
Autumn gold, not young, but not yet old.

No magic, no miracle cures,
The leaves fall, but the tree endures.
A few branches gone,
But the heartwood's strong.
Life goes on, 'cos' you're.....

Autumn gold, the story's in the telling, not yet told.
Autumn gold, the wind blows chill, but not yet cold,
Autumn gold, not young, but not yet old.

Roger Gall 1996

Subject: SB: At The Edge Of Town by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 14 Jan 10 - 03:11 AM

At The Edge Of Town by Amergin

I've seen him standing there
Amidst the patter of the rain
The drops pelt the street
As mud crawls to the drain
He holds his cigarette
Beneath the dampened light
Sucking on the butt
Glowing the cherry bright
And so at the edge of town
I watch his tears flow slowly down

I've seen him standing there
Gazing up into the darkened sky
The rain pounding down
Smashing his hazel eyes
Loud moans of sorrow
Escape from his freezing lips
The damply lit cigarette
Slowly burns to his fingertips
And so at the edge of town
I watch his tears flow slowly down

I've seen him standing there
Dripping water soaking his skin
As cars rush the puddles
Clothing hanging from his skin
He cries aloud to the ancient gods
His stare grazing the treetops
As they gradually disappear
Beneath the murky raindrops
And so at the edge of town
I watch his tears flow slowly down

I've seen him standing there
His hair stringing down his face
Dripping down curling into his mouth
As he shivers in a frozen embrace
Hugging himself hands in the armpits
Trying to keep his fingers warm
As his tears slide down his cheeks
Mixing with the hammering storm
And so at the edge of town
I watch his tears flow slowly down

Subject: SB: As We Keep The Old Music Alive by McGrath of H
From: Joe Offer
Date: 14 Jan 10 - 03:09 AM

McGrath's Comments:  Here's a new one I put on a recent thread.  I post it again, rather than just the link because the words have changed a wee bit now in the singing.  I wrote this after a day out at Moreton Midsummer Village Day, a few miles from Harlow, where all kinds of singers and musicians and dancers from around the area gather for a weekend every summer.

As We Keep The Old Music Alive by McGrath of Harlow

Somehow it seems there are always a few
And we do what we can and we do what we do,
There's her and there's him and there's me and there's you,
Trying to keep the old music alive.
Was a time we were young but the years how have rolled
In this world where most everything's bought or it's sold
and we sing the old songs where the stories are told,
as we keep the old music alive.

But away with all your cares now,
the world will pass us by,
as we sing on down the years now,
and the music will not die.

There's a session tonight in the Bell or the Crown,
and one way or another the word gets around,
but there's no music licence, so keep the noise down,
while you keep the old music alive.
And we sing and we play and we have the odd drink,
till the barman says "Boys, it's getting late, don't you think?" -
but he pulls close the curtains, and he tips us a wink,
and we keep the old music alive.

But away with all your cares now,
the world will pass us by,
as we sing on down the years now,
and the music will not die.

And every now and again there's a fete or a fair,
with a whole congregation of friends gathered there,
and we all play our part and we all take our share,
as we keep the old music alive.
Then the street stops and stares as the dancers parade,
and the years slip away and we are not afraid
and the glory of England is bravely displayed
as we keep the old music alive.

But away with all your cares now,
the world will pass us by,
as we sing on down the years now,
and the music will not die.

And here's a parody verse I added:

There's a session tonight at The Crown or The Bell,
And the fiddler been drinking, you can tell by the smell,
And the man with the squeezebox is playing with himself,
As we keep the old music alive.
And the barman says "Boys, why can't you get a life?
You should can bugger off home to your family and wife,
If you hand me that bodhran, and pass me a knife,
I'll help keep the old music alive."

(And here is a link to it on my website, with a link to a RealAudio of me singing it, for the tune.)

Subject: SB: The Art Of Conversation by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 14 Jan 10 - 03:07 AM

The Art Of Conversation by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  When I lived in London, I got used to sitting next to and opposite people in trains and not speaking.  On my last visit, I was amazed to find trains full of people talking, but still not to each other.

Now I walk the streets of the city
I've never felt so alone
Everybody's talking, yes
But only on the phone
Now everybody's talking it seems
And it's good to see
The art of conversation's not dead
But they ain't talking to me

I heard a friendly voice saying "hello"
I looked to find someone I know
I turned to meet the eyes of a stranger
Who carried on talking, as they watched me go
Don't know what the phones may do to your brain
Know what they do to mine and I'm trying to explain
Not sure if you're in any danger
But they're slowly driving me insane

Now I walk the streets of the city
I've never felt so alone
Everybody's talking, yes
But only on the phone
Now everybody's talking it seems
And it's good to see
The art of conversation's not dead
But they ain't talking to me

All of these things happen so fast
Just a passing craze or will it last?
Is this what the future is bringing?
Is talking face to face a thing of the past?
Are you worried like me or do you think it's fine
To hear all of this talking, all of the time
For even now, I can hear a mobile ringing
Please excuse me….. I think it's mine

Now I walk the streets of the city
I've never felt so alone
Everybody's talking, yes
But only on the phone
Now everybody's talking it seems
And it's so good to see
The art of conversation's not dead
But they ain't talking to me

© Roger Gall 2000. 

Subject: SB: Ar Bhóthar i gCósovó by Áine
From: Joe Offer
Date: 14 Jan 10 - 03:06 AM

Ar Bhóthar i gCósovó by Áine

Áine's Comments:  I wrote this song after hearing a story on the radio about a Kosovar woman whose infant died while the family was being expelled from their village and pushed to the country's borders during the war in Kosovo.  The mother had to bury the baby in the snow on the roadside because she was not allowed to stop long enough to dig a grave.

Slán leat, slán agat a stór
Caithfidh mise le gabháil ar aghaidh
Tusa i do choladh go deo
Mise ‘mo dheacaireacht ‘óró

Slán leat, slán agat a chroí
Béarfaidh mise d’aghaidh mar bheo
Tusa i do leachtán chomh fuar
‘S mé ar mo chosán chomh corrach

Slán leat, slán agat m’anamsa
Bíodh ‘fhios agat go mbeidh do scéal
I mo lámh’ ‘s mo bhéal go dtí
An domhan ar fad bí ‘d’aithne

Slán leat, slán agat a leanbhán
Coladh sámh is suaimhneach a h-óbó
Ná bí buartha mar bheidh mé
Ar ais uair inteacht a h-óró

Áine Cooke (1998)

Subject: SB: Another Journey By Train by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 14 Jan 10 - 03:04 AM

Another Journey By Train by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  This song is posted with the news this week here of a right-wing organisation claiming responsibility for the casualties resulting from three 'nail' bomb attacks in London. The first one targeting the black community in Brixton, the second, the Asian community in the East End and the third, the Gay community, last night in Soho.   The song is an account of a UK Channel 4 TV programme, from which the song gets it's title. It was the story of four young 'Neo-Nazis', from different European countries, taken on a train journey, meeting some Holocaust survivors and ending up at Auschwitz.   You may have thought that this would have changed their views a little, but unfortunately this did not happen.


You enter the 'Gates of Hell', and you deny the fires,
Stand among the ghosts of thousands, who you brand as liars.
Why do you deny it, for you know the truth inside?
It's not a matter of opinion, how these people died.

Heads of stone,
Hearts of ice,
It's only the truth you sacrifice.

Five men on the corner, oh how it tears my heart,
Alone with his memories, the old man stands apart.
You refuse to hear him, for he doesn't count you say,
Builders of the 'New Tomorrow', does the past get in your way?

Hearts of ice,
Heads of stone.
So many people, so far from home.

One small lady and four big men, a brave thing to do?
A survivor of the 'real thing', what does she have to fear from you?
In the shadow of the tower, she shows you her tattoo,
And you have the nerve to tell her, you're now the persecuted few?

Heads of stone,
Hearts of ice,
It's only the truth you sacrifice.

Some of you don't understand, but some understand so well,
Frozen hearts will seize your granite minds, if you fall under their spell.
The world goes through it's changes, but some things stay the same,
When you know, you can't be wrong, you'll find someone else to blame.

Hearts of ice,
Heads of stone.
So many people, so far from home.

Heads of stone,
Hearts of ice,
It's only the truth you sacrifice.

Roger Gall 1995

Subject: SB: The Anna Grace by Willie-O
From: Joe Offer
Date: 14 Jan 10 - 03:03 AM

The Anna Grace by Willie-O

Willie-O's Comments:  I had Stan Rogers in mind when I wrote this in the mid 80's–its based on a photo I took of two fishing boats that were tied up together, one old and decrepit but with buckets of soul, the other one large, shiny and white. The story is pure fiction. I changed the name of the newer boat, since I sank it in the song– purely for dramatic effect, which I've always felt guilty about. Probably should have used another name for the "Anna Grace" too, but I like it too much. My daughter just told me this was her favorite lullaby when she was little. I think its my best work. It's not really about fishing, or boats, at all. It's about the inevitability of aging and the whims of fate.  Bill Cameron (2000)


The Anna Grace was a sorry sight
Lying down in Portsmouth Harbour.
With her paint coming off and a list to port
Cause the garboard strake made water.

She was tied up next to the Alison May,
A big new glass-hulled dragger.
White topsides and a flying bridge
The company's proud to flag her.

Chorus:
But I'll take the Anna Grace,
Burn the old paint off and refasten her planks
Put a diesel in, and fit her out right
And take her out fishing again.

Cause I was ten years old in McKenna's yard
When I watched them shape her timbers
And I'd rather have her than some plastic tub
For I know the stuff that's in her.

So I bought her last fall for a thousand cash,
Towed her to the yard and hauled her
I spent every cent I could get from the bank
But come spring she went back in the water. 

Chorus:
I took the Anna Grace
Burned the old paint off and refastened her planks,
Put a diesel in and fit her out right
And took her out fishing again.

We worked that year with the Alison May
To stay ahead of the fleet from Gloucester
We were forty miles out on George's Banks
When a full nor'easter caught her.

(Bridge) C-D-B-D-D (repeat)

The Anna made port by the grace of God
Though her pumps could barely float her,
But the Alison May lies far below
Like many an ocean daughter

The Anna doesn't work on the banks these days
She stays close by the harbour
For she's seen her fate on the breaking waves
And she's no more for deep water.

Final Chorus:
I took the Anna Grace
Burned the old paint off and refastened her planks,
Put a diesel in and fit her out right
But she'll never go fishing again.

© Bill Cameron 1989 

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook PermaThread
From: katlaughing
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 09:32 PM

Here it is, Joe, from a pdf in THIS THREAD (it says "download it.")

An Emigrant's Daughter (to the tune of The Grenadier & the Lady)
Lyrics by B. Taylor

---

Thanks, Kat & Wizzy. Lyrics posted above, with a link to the beautiful MIDI tune.
-Joe-

Subject: SB: An Emigrant's Daughter by Barry Taylor
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 08:06 PM

An Emigrant's Daughter by Barry Taylor
(Tune: The Grenadier and the Lady)  Click here for a midi of the tune

Barry's Comments:  This ballad tells the true story of the voyage of my Irish ancestors from County Tyrone to Canada in 1842.

Oh please ne'er forget me though waves now lie o'er me
I was once young and pretty and my spirit ran free
But destiny tore me from country and loved ones
And from the new land I was never to see.
A poor emigrant's daughter too frightened to know
I was leaving forever the land of my soul
Amid struggle and fear my parents did pray
To place courage to leave o'er the longing to stay.

They spoke of a new land far away 'cross the sea
And of peace and good fortune for my brothers and me
So we parted from townland with much weeping and pain
'Kissed the loved ones and the friends we would ne'er see again.
The vessel was crowded with disquieted folk
The escape from past hardship sustaining their hope
But as the last glimpse of Ireland faded into the mist
Each one fought back tears and felt strangely alone.

The seas roared in anger, making desperate our plight
And a fever came o'er me that worsened next night
Then delirium possessed me and clouded my mind
And I, for a moment, saw that land left behind.
I could hear in the distance my dear mother's wailing
And the prayers of three brothers that I'd see no more
And I felt father's tears as he begged for forgiveness
For seeking a new life on the still distant shore.

Oh please ne'er forget me though waves now lie o'er me
I was once young and pretty and my spirit ran free
But destiny tore me from country and loved ones
And from the new land I was never to see.

Copyright 1998 Barry Taylor

Subject: SB: An Bhean Chaointe by Áine
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 08:05 PM

An Bhean Chaointe by Áine
(Tune: An Bhean Udaí Thall)

Áine's Comments:  This song is based on the famous legend of 'La Llorona'.

Ná gabh chun na habhann, a stór,
Ná gabh ansin riamh i d'aonar;
Beidh tú toghaite ag an Bhean Chaointe,
Ag an bhruach 'sí fliuch is fíanta.

Ag caí ag an grian dhubhach,
Le gealaigh dorcha 'bhí sí faighte;
Marbh neamhbheo na leanbháin,
San uisce glasfhuar báite.

Le leannán leapa í tréigthe,
Le fuath is eagla í lionta;
Le háill ard iad caite,
Gan slánaitheoir ina dtrocha.

Ó mhaidin go faoithin á luchtaíodh,
Lena tsianta cráite is maisc,
Ar bharr na sruthanna á rugadh,
A cuimhne go deo gan reast'.

Gealtach le ciontacht is pian,
Tuirseach den saol gan suan,
I ndallsíon léim sí san abhainn,
'S cailleadh í fán uisce dubh.

Lá is oíche taiscéalann sí páistí
'Sí ag fuaidreamh, fuar is caillte,
I ndorcha i' sorcha caoineann sí,
Anam damanta is riamh riaghta.

Ná gabh chun na habhann, a stór,
Ná gabh ansin riamh i d'aonar;
Beidh tú toghaite ag an Bhean Chaointe,
Ag an bhruach 'sí fliuch is fíanta.

Áine Cooke (1999)

Subject: SB: Alba by Troll
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 08:03 PM

Willie-O's Song Challenge:  The way the contents of Áine's Mudcat Songbook are ordered, the first song listed is my ballad "1743", because the index puts numbered titles in sequence first, then alphabetizes the rest.  So here's my challenge: write a song about a year or event which preceded 1743 AD, (as far back as 1742 BC actually), entitle it accordingly, and knock me out of the top spot! I dare ya!


Alba by Troll

Centurian, why have you come here from Rome
Through the forests of Britain from the channels white foam?
Who sent you to die so far from your home,
In the cold misty highlands of Alba. 

Chorus:
For ye march from your wall with your sword in your hand.
Ye harry the border, then march back again.
But shun ye the highlands, the heather and glen.
For ye'll rue the day ye saw Alba. 

O Rome's conquered Persia and Rome's conquered Gaul
And Rome's conquered Britain for Rome conquers all.
At the edge of your empire ye've builded a wall,
For ye know ye will not conquer Alba. 

Chorus

Ye Gauls and ye Germans. Ye poor conquered folk.
Bow down to your masters or your backs will be broke.
Caledonia will ne'er wear the harsh Roman yoke.
And the Romans will never rule Alba. 

Chorus

Centurian, why have ye come here from Rome?
Through forested Britain from the channels white foam.
For the corbies will quarrel as they pick o'er your bones,
Where ye died in the highlands of Alba. 

Chorus

copyright N.W. Johnson 

Subject: SB: All Horses Go To Heaven by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 08:01 PM

All Horses Go To Heaven by Amergin
(Tune: Sounds Of Silence)

Amergin's Comments:  This is a song I wrote for Kat after she posted the story about her daughter's horse dying.  I feel it is her song more than mine.

Hello Martinee, my old friend
I've come to ride with you again
Across my face, the wind is blowing
Down you're neck, your mane is flowing
And the hooves are echoing across the fields
The grass softly yields
Upon your journey to Heaven

For many years I rode with you
As we frolicked in the dew
From first of the glowing sun
To the time when the day was done
When my heart cried out to leave you there
In the summer air
Now you're on the road to Heaven

I used to watch you dance and sing
At the dawning of the Spring
Your voice would ring out in the stables
We would feel the joy your songs enabled
The others would just run and obey
Now they bow and pray,
As you run in the pastures of Heaven

Then the cold winter came
The frost attacked your feeble frame
I was crying, I thought I'd lose you
You stood proud, but my fears still grew
My relief was great when you nuzzled my hand
But now you stand
Before the Gates of Heaven

Then an angel touched the land
A golden harp held in his hand
I felt the love he was strumming
I felt the joy he was humming
Then the angel sang, "I have come to welcome thee
Your soul is free
For all the horses go to Heaven." 

Subject: SB: All Hail Flag Day by mousethief
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 08:00 PM

All Hail Flag Day by mousethief
(Sung to the tune of Oh, Susanna)

Well it's time again for Flag Day
And we'll wave our flags with pride
It's a red flag and a blue flag
Not as tall as it is wide

All hail flag day! It's just the day for me
I will hang my spangled banner on a flagpole or a tree

Well I like it when the stripes are sewn
And not just printed on
And the bright stars on the field of blue
Go nicely with my lawn

All hail flag day! It's just the day for me
I will hang my spangled banner on a flagpole or a tree

Now I know the symbolism, and all that it stands for
But it's mostly jingoistic stuff, preoccupied with war
So I'll sing a song that's PC for the flag that I love best
Which is not to say I think that it is better than the rest

All hail flag day! It's just the day for me
I will hang my spangled banner on a flagpole or a tree

Copyright ©2002 Alex Riggle. All Rights Reserved.

Subject: SB: Ain't Dreams Wonderful Things? by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 07:59 PM

Ain't Dreams Wonderful Things? by The Shambles

Whilst riding with Harry Worth, on a Chair-O –Plane
We watch a Spitfire dogfight, with a cardboard Hurricane
No, it ain't like a journey, you don't go from A to B
You can't change the programme; you ain't watching no TV

Ain't dreams wonderful things? There's a joy in things you can't control
Ain't dreams wonderful things? Close your eyes and open up your soul

I go to a show, sit in the front row
No one seems to notice I'm not wearing any clothes
Though I know I'm only dreaming, I feel the anxiety
It's hard to tell, when you wake up, the fact from fantasy

Ain't dreams wonderful things? There's a joy in things you can't control
Ain't dreams wonderful things? Close your eyes and open up your soul

I'm on an island, salt free, the wind
I'm flying with eagles, on paper wings
Oh! It feels so easy, just how life was meant to be
It's so hard to come back, to what we call reality

Ain't dreams wonderful things? There's a joy in things you can't control
Ain't dreams wonderful things? Close your eyes and open up your soul

Roger Gall 1996

Subject: SB: Ahukahuba How 'Bout You? by Reggie Miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 07:32 PM

Ahukahuba How 'Bout You? by Reggie Miles

Reggie's Comments:  Here's a little escapist ditty I started a long time ago but only recently completed with a third verse. A short, sweet, three chord, Hawaiian styled song with a single fantasy nonsense Hawaiian type word in the title and chorus. Can you guess which? Well I don't speak Hawaiian. I just hope I didn't inadvertently spell something too offensive. ;o)

Close your eyes and drift away,
to where the skies are blue and the palm trees sway.
Where the island folk sing and dance all day.
Ahukahuba how 'bout you?

I want to go where the bananas grow.
Where the accepted form of dress is wearing no clothes.
I want the sun in my eyes and the sand in my toes.
Ahukuhuba how 'bout you?

There's a place that I am yearning for.
Where a warm and gentle breeze blows by a tropical shore.
Where I won't have to work and worry no more.
Ahukahuba how 'bout you?

© Reggie Miles

Subject: SB: A Song for Mudcatters by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 07:31 PM

A Song for Mudcatters by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  It is not very likely, unfortunately, that the vast majority of Mudcatter's are ever going to be in the same place at the same time, physically. Although it seems like it happens on-line, sometimes and this was the thought behind this song. Maybe those who are lucky enough to get together could sing it (and others) for those of us that are not there?

It has not received a title yet, what would you suggest a good title might be (or is this asking for trouble)?

To be strummed, lustily, around the campfire, or on lonely hilltops, in good old G major.

G
Just another singer
C
With just another guitar
G
It don't matter what you want to be
...........D
It only matters who you are
G
I look forward to that day
...........C
And I hope it won't be long
..............C.........D......................G
When we all get to sing the same song

C..................................G
We can sing it it high and we can sing it low
C...........................D
We can sing it fast and we can sing it slow
G
I look forward to that day
................C
And I hope it won't be long
....................G........D..................G
When we all get to sing the same song

We come from many countries
We are both old and young
We may all come from many faiths
But the singing makes us one
I look forward to that day
And I hope it won't be long
When we all get to sing the same song

place for ocarina solo

We can sing it it high and we can sing it low
We can sing it fast and we can sing it slow
I look forward to that day
And I hope it won't be long
When we all get to sing the same song

We have different views
That's the way it'll always be
It don't matter who's right or wrong
We'll just agree to disagree
I look forward to that day
And I hope it won't be long
When we all get to sing the same song

Place for massed tiple ensemble

We can sing it it high and we can sing it low
We can sing it fast and we can sing it slow
I look forward to that day
And I hope it won't be long
When we all get to sing the same song

It may come as a struggle
It maybe just a breeze
You may sing like a croaking frog
Or the birds up in the trees
I look forward to that day
And I hope it won't be long
When we all get to sing the same song

We can sing it it high and we can sing it low
We can sing it fast and we can sing it slow
I look forward to that day
And I hope it won't be long
When we all get to sing the same song

Australian marching bands and big finish

Roger Gall 1999

Subject: SB: A Soldier's Lament by Irish sergeant
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 07:30 PM

A Soldier's Lament by Irish sergeant

It was only Starvation that drove me from our land, 
When famine visited dear old Erin's shore. 
And Nary a soul would help me or offer up a hand, 
'Til they needed Erin's sons to fight their war.

And dear Mary how I miss you as the bugles fill the air
and the morning sun is reaching for the sky. 
How I long to run my fingers through your long and silken hair, 
and hear the curlews sing as day goes by. 

But it's 18 years this summer I've been upon this shore. 
and a soldier's life's the only one I know. 
Still I sit among my comrades and I listen to their snores, 
And I wonder is there any place to go.

And my darling wife I miss you on this humid summer night 
and I wonder if I've ever loved you more. 
A thousand men lie broken after today's fight, 
and I'm praying for the end of this damned war. 

My face is stained with powder and my eyes are filled with tears, 
And the bitter gall of warfare fills my heart. 
I buried our dear boy today and I'm feeling all my years, 
And I'll never still the anguish in my heart. 

And dear Mary, how I miss you as the bugles fill the air, 
And the morning sun is reaching for the sky. 

How I long to run my fingers through your long and silken hair, 
and hear the curlews sing as days go by. 
And I'm praying no more soldiers have to die.

© Neil K. MacMillan

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook gone?
From: katlaughing
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 07:22 PM

Amos, thanks. I HOPE they did so!

Great job, Joe and Jeri!

Subject: SB: A Sleepless Night by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 07:15 PM

A Sleepless Night by Amergin

I lie in the bed beside you
Watching your sleeping form
Running my hand along your side
Feeling your flesh, soft and warm
I try to close my weary eyes
But the haven of sleep eludes me
Restless, I listen to your breath
Rising, falling like the dancing sea

But I am leaving you tomorrow
Amidst the scattered rain
Up to Bonners and Sandpoint
Upon the evening train
My thoughts will be with you
As you sit there all alone
As I pass the lonesome miles
Across the hills of home

My arms are wrapped around you
Soaking up your female heat
Listening to the trucks roll past
On a distant moonlit street
I softly kiss the back of your neck
As the tears leak from my eyes
Holding you softly to my body
Waiting for the sun to finally rise

But I am leaving you tomorrow
Amidst the scattered rain
Up to Bonners and Sandpoint
Upon the evening train
My thoughts will be with you
As you sit there all alone
As I pass the lonesome miles
Across the hills of home

I hope that you will be there
To watch the train shudder and wind
Down those cold wet steel tracks
As we hear the whistle grind
I hope that you will be there
To kiss me one last goodbye
To last till the time I return
From the distant northern skies

But I am leaving you tomorrow
Amidst the scattered rain
Up to Bonners and Sandpoint
Upon the evening train
My thoughts will be with you
As you sit there all alone
As I pass the lonesome miles
Across the hills of home

Subject: SB: A Seafarer's Lament by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 07:14 PM

A Seafarer's Lament by Amergin
(Tune: Connemara Cradle Song)

I stand on the deck, looking over the sea
Remembering her form a-waving to me
I hear her voice calling, "Come back to me"
Floating on the wind coming over the sea

Chorus:
Hear the wind blow, dear,
Hear the wind blow
Lean you head over
And hear the wind blow

The stars are bright as they dance in the sky,
The sky is lightening as morning draws nigh
Blow the wind gently and calm be the sea
Do you see the same stars, the same stars as me?

Chorus:
The night is over and my watch is now done
I stand to the east, dear, and I greet the sun
I lie in my bunk, love, dreaming of you
As you sit waiting, far across the blue

Chorus:
The day will come, when we stand on the shore
And I will go sailing, a-sailing no more
I will hold you tightly, your cheeks shining bright
And sleep in your arms, dear, serenely at night,

©Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: A Run for Home by Metchosin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 07:09 PM

A Run for Home by Metchosin (a work in progress)

(In loving memory of David and Wendy Trail, John Trail and Mary Anne Grubb, lost at sea, November, 1978)

On a gray November day
The Gustav made its way
Round the rocks and down the inlet
Out to sea,
And its engine throbbed and droned,
As it plunged and rolled to home
Through the rising wind and foam
Of heaving sea.

Through an agony of time
While they pace and fret and pine
For a message from their loved ones,
Out at sea,
Arrival day came and went
With no word, no signal sent
To end worry and lament,
Oh, where at sea?

The Pacific's northern gale
Leaves no trace, tells no tale,
Of lives in ships, storm tossed
On wild seas,
Just a single fishing float
Bearing name of missing boat
Flung in a cove remote
By roiling sea.

On a windswept grassy knoll
Above the ceaseless breakers roll
Where wind crook'd pine is stooped
By timeless sea,
Lies a cold, flat granite stone
Forgotten and alone
And carved words cut to the bone:
"Lost at sea".

Copyright©1999 S. Grieve

Subject: SB:A Prayer For The Madness Of Leap Year by Praise
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 07:08 PM

A Prayer For The Madness Of Leap Year by Praise
(A slow waltz dirge or lament? In blues/gospel style?)
Sorry, can't notate or ABC yet, I wish you could hear the melody...)

CHORDS:
Intro:
Cm / / / / /

Verse:
Cm / / / / / Fm / / / / / G7 / / / / / Cm / / / / / 
Cm / / / / / Fm / / / / / G7 / / / / / Cm / / / / / 
Fm / / / / / Cm / / / / / Fm / / / / / Cm / / / / /
Cm / / / / / Fm / / / / / G7 / / / / / Cm / / / / / 


People, all over, again, are shocked-- not surprised-- and saddened, and this time, for Kayla.
At Buell, a whole classroom of the helpless stood by. Lives forever are riven.
Lord... we've fallen again... Lord, where DO we begin?
First grade babies! Outrage, despair-- to Your cross by this sadness, I'm driven.

The horrible acts of humanity's weakness I lay at your feet, for your cleansing.
Your tears flow freely as we carry on, but I fear that we don't see or feel them.
Help us... hold fast to the joy, of the wondrous creation you gave.
Our children, our lives, our friends and foes, and the children-- unblessed and unshriven.

"Geezis", some cry out, do they know your Name, do they know you had come to redeem us?
Sweet Jesus, suffering, weeping Christ, how do we achieve your compassion?
Some of us praying.... And some are ranting away. 
No one with answers, but plenty of words, and too much, in our too-human fashion.

Others shout out their mourning and grief, and despite knowing most are not listening.
These words that we to Your ocean's crests-- are you searching? I pray that you hear us.
Lord... we need You. Lord.... can we heed you?
Looking only into a mirror, we have only the thorns, and no roses.

Once again people are asking why You would allow such an evil to happen.
Why aren't they asking, humble and meek, how to love as you love all your children?
Blaming in weakness... Desperate to see what they will not see.
But I wonder Lord, I just don't understand, why you haven't yet struck us all barren.

Women, your sons stand beside a boy who had no one to love or to raise him. 
Men, you are fathers, your own little girl bleeds on a cold floor, and lays dying.
Where were all of us? Why can we only feel this disgust?
Where are our hearts when we hear through our walls, that another lost soul lies crying?

Lord, I pray that you give us Your strength, for so often, we choose what is evil.
Lord, I ask that you hear what we cannot and do not know how to petition.
Lord.. I'm trying to praise; but Lord... but my eyes are a-haze.
Lord, please send us Your spirit of love to end all our wars of attrition.

Stand beside us and lend us Your wisdom, and bind us in Your understanding.
Take the love in our grief and despair and remake it in your holy image.
I don't understand why, Lord, you died for me. But I know you still suffer upon Calvary.
Lord, I lift up my voice to your ear, and I ask you to save our small village.

People, all over, again, are shocked-- not surprised-- and saddened, and this time, for Kayla.
At Buell, a whole classroom of the helpless stood by. Lives forever are riven.
Lord... we've fallen again... Lord, where DO I begin?
First grade babies! Outrage, despair-- to Your cross by this sadness, I'm driven.

Subject: SB: A Non-scents Song! by Bradypus
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:46 PM

This song was posted in response to a song challenge made by McGrath of Harlow on this thread.  Below is the newstory that prompted McGrath's challenge:

Mounties Punish Fragrant Offences (June 4, 2000) --  The Canadian province of Nova Scotia has outlawed perfume in public places after claims that it contains toxic chemicals .  The ban, observed in government buildings, schools and a growing number of private workplaces includes all fragrances, including those in hairspray and gel, mouthwash and deodorants. Some employees have been sent home to shower for being too sweetly scented.   The ban signals a victory for anti-perfume activists who lobbied outside the City Hall of the province's capital, Halifax, wearing gas masks. Their complaint is that fragrance is composed of undisclosed chemicals, some of which cause MCS - multiple chemi cal sensitivity. Critics say MCS is a spurious condition.  In Halifax not everyone has come to terms with the anti-perfume rule. An 84-year-old woman was escorted from a council meeting at City Hall for having a dab of perfume behind her ears.  Sheet Harbour High School was the scene of another scent showdown when a 17-year-old pupil refused to trade in his hair gel and deodorant for unscented alternatives. It almost got him a criminal record. His teacher, highly sensitive to fragrance, blamed the scent for triggering a vomiting attack. She called the incident an 'assault' and was backed by the school. The teen was handed over to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police but released without charge. 

Bradypus' Comments:  I've probably used the same pun too often in this - but I enjoyed having a challenge again.  The tune is 'Mountain Dew', and the last four lines are lifted almost directly from one of the versions in Digitrad - but you've got to end a song somehow. 

A Non-scents Song! by Bradypus

In Canada's land certain things are banned
Which will come as no surprise
But the government has now banned scent
I'm telling you no lies
Perfume in the air has now turned rare
In government and school
They can quickly tell if you smell too well
That you've broken their new rule.

In Halifax they were wearing masks
Chemical Sensitivity
Can make you sick if the perfume's thick
So they've banned it now, you see
Hypochondriacs with vomiting attacks
Or sensitive souls at home
It matters not how the law we've got
We're now a scents – free zone.

A dab behind the ears can lead to tears
Shower gel to an early bath
Now deodorant has no odour in't
As we go down the scent – free path
If you've got B O, better let it show
Or you could be done for assault
If you don't use scents, then you've got a defence
That the odour's not your fault

In the gardens and the parks there are many sparks
As the flowers quit the town
It may be common sense, but their common scents
Could have them all sent down
But my Auntie June has a sweet perfume
It has such a wonderful 'pew'
But it's legal still, fully natural
It's the real old mountain dew !

Subject: SB: The Mother's Kiss by Don Meixner
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:43 PM

The Mother's Kiss by Don Meixner
(words are copyrighted by: Donald R. Meixner.  Music is traditional: Tramps and Hawkers )


Don's Comments:  A mother and child were found laying in a ditch in the shade of a tree.  Cheeks sunken and hollow and lips stained green from trying to ear enough grass to sustain them.   My comment on the starvation of the Irish people.  I wrote this about 8 years ago and have sung it out only once.  Help yourselves and sing it if you like.  Just tell people where it came from and if you record it and make mint of it, send me some money too. :-)))


I met a woman along the road, a baby on her arm,
She wore a shawl to wrap them both but it could not keep them warm,
When she brought forth her bowl to beg, to feed her yet unborn,
A tale she told of the ancient cold indiference and scorn.

And green was the mother's kiss upon the babies head,
That lay upon the withered breast that mother England bled,
And the green that stains the cotton cloth will surely stain the skin,
And the green can't feed the child with out or the one that sleeps with in.

Ascended lords came to the north andtook away our lands,
With foreign steel and foreign law and foreign force of hands,
They drove us from our ancient homes in serfdoms chains once more,
And while Saxons fed on Irish bread, we starved outside the door.

What they took would have feed us both, feed us all and then,
If what were left had been cut by half, it would have feed us twice again.
But England sent our bounty south, our cattle sheep and corn,
And left what grew in blighted soil to feed the native born.

And green was the mother's kiss upon the babies head,
That lay upon the withered breast that mother England bled,
And the green that stains the cotton cloth will surely stain the skin,
And the green can't feed the child with out or the one that sleeps with in.

I pray the day will never come when famine times draw nigh,
When a father's tears fall to the ground as his children fail and die,
I pray the lord will guide us and keep us safe and warm,
And in the autumn of the year, bring forth the golden corn.

Subject: SB: A Mere Man by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:41 PM

A Mere Man by The Shambles


The Shambles' Comments:  Not one of my best songs, I know, but it was how I felt at the time.  Having done something positive, I do feel a little more like myself now........ Please feel free to make yourself feel better and respond with songs, poems, insults, whatever?.............. Or you are free not to respond at all. ..........But it would be nice if you did.


A mere man, logical, hard-bitten
A mere man, no woman's intuition, just a man

An innocent, lost at sea
Undercurrents, swirl about me
Surprised, by what they might bring
The only thing I do right, is the wrong thing

A mere man, next to useless
A mere man, no hormonal excuses, just a man

Well I'm nobody's fool
I try hard to live by the rules
I get them logged in my brain
Only to find, they have changed again

A mere man, under pressure
A mere man, no not the oppressor, just a man

I'm the one that takes the blast
For all the injustice of the past
But can the whole of history
Be put entirely down to me?

A mere man, on one level
A mere man, no not the Devil, just a man

Not my prerogative to change my mind
Not complicated and I think you'll find
Your role is not of my design
For, I'm just as trapped with mine

A mere man, logical, hard-bitten
A mere man, no woman's intuition, just a man

Roger Gall 1999

Subject: SB: A Little Titian by The Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:40 PM

A Little Titian by The Shambles

The Shambles' Comments:  This started out to be a harsh comment on the 'art' world but ended up being a tribute to an individual artist.  It is also about how to achieve a kind of immortality and a good excuse for a lot of heavy name-dropping.

If you want your portrait done
Go to the man who's number one
Where do I place my commission?
Do I ask Picasso?
Or Michaelangelo?
No, Venice is the place to go
For a little Titian

Don't want to appear, in no Vermeer
Or the 'Laughing Cavalier'
Idiot grin, frozen in, one position
Poor Franz Hals
He should ask his pals
As to just how?
You get a little Titian

I could have asked Van Gogh
But he took the (y)ear off
Well surely, there was a man with a mission?
But a year in Provence
Is not the Renaissance
When all one wants
Is a little Titian

Well I'm no prude
But to be painted in the nude
To stand up and shed my inhibitions
Like 'The Venus Of Urbino'
In a cold studio
Is that why she shows?
Just a little Titian

Don't want to hang in the Louvre
I'd prefer to be on the move
Go around the world in a travelling exhibition
But The Uffitzi?
Would maybe suit me?
For there I could see
A room full of Titian

Among kings and heads of state
Amongst the good and the great
Philosophers and mathematicians
You, won't want my face
Hanging around your place
But you'd find the space
For a little Titian

Roger Gall

Subject: SB: A Late Night Walk by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:39 PM

A Late Night Walk by Amergin

I am walking down the sidewalk
Through the darkened neighborhood
Feet thudding through the snow
Fingers grazing the icy wood
I stare above the ghostly streetlamps
And into the cloud covered skies
To find myself staring into the depths
Of the color of your hazel eyes

I stroll on down the slushy street,
A shadow dancing in the gloom,
Treading softly upon the pavement
My footsteps echo in the tomb
I look upon a frozen snow bank
Weary eyes are turning glossed
And there in the blackened shade
I see your smile etched in the frost

I softly pad up to the darkened porch
Hearing the water lightly drip down
Snow falling from my dampened shoes
Remnants of my saunter round town
I easily open the two front doors
To escape the winter of a dying year
I tilt my head and silently listen
To your laughter singing in my ears

© Nathan Tompkins

Subject: SB: A Grown-ups' Lullaby by CapriUni (Ann Magill)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:37 PM

A Grown-ups' Lullaby by CapriUni (a/k/a Ann Magill)

It's been many years since you lay in the cradle,
been many years since the tooth fairy came,
many long years since the moon played a ladle.
But, oh, let me sing "lullaby," just the same.

Beyond these four walls is a world filled with beauty:
gems in the mountains and stars in the sky.
Lay down your burden and rest from your duty,
and drift off to sleep while I sing "lullaby."

Just trade all your worries for dreams and bright visions.
Let all your fears fade away in the night.
Soar through the cosmos and sail golden oceans.
Return to the world with your hopes shining bright.

And though many miles may stretch wide between us,
as over this world we wander and roam,
Know that in my love, you'll find a safe haven;
As long as I'm living you're never alone.

It's been many years since we lay in the cradle,
been many years since the tooth fairy came,
many long years since the moon played a ladle,
But, oh, we still need lullabies, just the same.

Subject: SB: A Good Line by Spider Tom
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:35 PM

A Good Line by Spider Tom

One night, I was dreaming, and I woke up moaning, 
I found a perfect stranger, there inside my bed. 
I was thrown, in a panic, I'm just a broke mechanic, 
So I tried to diagnose, the miss inside my head. 

My thoughts were retrieving, the previous evening, 
I had a recollection, of nothing much, at all
A bed-fellow delicious, or bed-fellow , vicious, 
She sighed in her sleep, and turned to the wall. 

I was never, ever fine, at a good pick up line, 
And confusion, and stale wine, tortured my dull head, 
This was no apparition, was she there, from my wishing, 
Last night, I'd gone fishing, now a girl is in my bed. 
. 
Her grey eyes, gave a flutter, no word did she utter, 
She flung back the blanket, and gave a little flail, 
My eyes, started popping, my jaw, started flopping, 
Instead of two long legs, she sported, a fish-tail. 

What a wild, fish-story, there in her glory, 
Was the finest of Mermaids, that fell, for a good line. 
Should I seduce, or scale her, I was bound, to fail her, 
My body still all droopy, from the bottles of wine. 

She gave me a hurt look, showed me where my hook, 
Had pierced her lower lip, said she felt the sting. 
I said,"be mine, forever, I won't hurt you ever, 
Your mouth is just adorable, I'll give you a lip-ring." 

All things in life, are winnable, your chance, at best is probable. 
And love becomes unstoppable, as passions rise and fall, 
A mermaid, oh so fine, can be caught with a good line, 
When providence devine, gives two hearts a call. 

We now share a zacuzzi,she never was a floosie, 
We were wedded, by the ocean, to the singing of the whales, 
We fell, hook, line and sinker,and as I love to tinker, 
She showed me how to get inside her scales. 

I was never, ever fine, at a good pickup line, 
"Luck", is a fisherman, I have often said. 
This was no apparition, she was there from her wishing, 
I've given up fishing, keep scaleing her instead.

© Ken Robertson 29/10/1999

Subject: SB: A Dram For Yarrow by InOBU
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:34 PM

A Dram For Yarrow by InOBU

While posting on the mudcat site,
so many a tune did borrow,
my songs inflamed, many a fascist clan
and one wee guest named Yarrow

This Yarrow she did post with spite
and many a phrase so callow
Invective she hurled with all her might
did this one wee guest named Yarrow

But words bereft of mighty wit
where met with naught but sorrow
for one who posts with no real point
this one wee guest named Yarrow

So poets all, raise up yer glass
We'll toast and sing till it be morrow
And when the words flow fast and free
We'll have a dram for Yarrow

Subject: SB: A Dilly Of A Tale by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:19 PM

A Dilly Of A Tale by reggie miles

Oh listen to me people as I tell you the tale,
of a bad bunch of dills that got put on sale.
I guess pickle pickin' ain't my fortay,
Cuz I usually choose the cheapest ones on display.

I bought a jar just the other day,
hopin' to enjoy'em with a sandwich I made,
but when I took a big bite of that first little cuke,
I had to spit it out, it almost made me puke.

The taste was not at all apetizin'
and nearly got my stomach to risin'.
I thought it was probably the only one in the jar,
and sampled another just to be sure.

Well sir, sure enough the second one tasted,
just as bad as the first, my money was wasted.
Then later I checked again to see
and took a little nibble on pickle number three.

You'd think by now I would've learned my lesson,
pickle three was awful, I am confessin'.
Now any normal guy would've thrown'em out
but I was willin' t' give'em the benefit of doubt.

And to be certain I hadn't left a good one behind,
I tried every single pickle in that horrible brine.
Go the extra mile, is what I always say,
though I think I might change after this hospital stay.

I got poisonin', of the pickle kind.
They say in a couple o' weeks I'll be fine.
That is of course if I don't get,
acuke complications along with it.

I thought I'd get even with them dillinquent merchants,
and get a refund on my ill dill purchase.
But when I brought the jar back to get my money returned,
all I got was this lesson learned.

They refused sayin', they'd all been et.
I gotta admit I was kind of upset.
Oh listen to my story, lend an ear,
don't make the same mistake I made here.

If you ever get a notion to save a couple o' nickles,
and want to try to buy some cheap discount pickles.
Don't do it! Put'em back on the shelf!
Think of your poor tiny taste buds health!

Go for broke!
Spend a few extra nickles!
Cuz there ain't nothin' worse
than bad dill pickles.

Subject: SB: A Different Kind by Mrs. Shambles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 06:16 PM

A Different Kind by Mrs. Shambles

Taken from the cradle, you bent them to your will,
Born for you to sacrifice, whilst teaching them to kill.
You taught them how to use the gun, the knife, the hands, the heart,
Children of obedience, they've learnt to play their part.
Do they call you father, Hitler of Saddam?
You nurture their dependence, they act at your command,
The history of their nation, distorted and confused,
While they keep asking questions, you see they're yours to use.

Watch them grow but keep in mind,
The power of your destruction, is building from behind.
Heartless souls have leaned to find,
That the murder of their innocence, has bred; a different kind.

But when the rage is over, the wind is blowing cold,
Do you think they'll put away the toys they know of old?
Returning to their families, a viper in the nest,
You'll find they'll teach their loved ones to skills that they know best.
A country born of murder, a country born of lust,
Rallying together, where can you place your trust?
There are no moral boundaries, living in your land,
They won't accept surrender by the raising of your hand.

Watch them grow but keep in mind,
The power of your destruction, is building from behind.
Heartless souls have leaned to find,
That the murder of their innocence, has bred; a different kind.

You chose to fuel the furnace, you chose to use the small,
They did the fighting for you, whilst you hid behind closed doors.
Machines of your destruction, you failed to see had grown,
Turning now to face you are the seeds that you had sown.
No longer seen as saviour, leader or their God,
They seek to overthrow you and feed you to the dogs.
They'll fight and kill to gain the prize, awarded to the few,
Is it with pride, you turn to see they've grown to be like you?

Watch them grow but keep in mind,
The power of your destruction, is building from behind.
Heartless souls have leaned to find,
That the murder of their innocence, has bred; a different kind.

Watch them grow but keep in mind,
The power of your destruction, is building from behind.
Heartless souls have leaned to find,
That the murder of their innocence, has bred; a different kind.


Katrina Gall 1998

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook gone?
From: Jeri
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:55 PM

The links don't work, as they refer to documents in the directory where the thread WAS. I fixed the first few of them. Other mods can see what I did (Just stuck "#message number" in where "songtitle.html" is) and maybe help out.

And yes, I hope this post gets deleted, augmented, moved or whatever else might help.

---

Don't worry about it, Jeri. I'll figure out some sort of global "replace" doodad when I get to that point. The Index is truncated, so I have to figure out how to fit it all in. If people can help me find the "missing" songs and post their location or lyrics here, that would be very helpful. Also, I haven't found the Storytelling section yet - can anybody find it.

-Joe-

---

Good luck with 'gobally' replacing a bunch of unique relative links with a bunch of different unique relative links, but I won't worry about it.

--Jeri

Subject: SB: Across the Miles and Over the Years by Amos
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:27 PM

Across the Miles and Over the Years by Amos

From the hills of the Highlands
To the deep Yalu valleys,
And the spice caravans,
That we rode long ago;
From the high Delphic temple,
To the bullet-stained trenches
To the bright cusp of morning
On the far polar snow

Over ages of failure
Over triumphs undimming
From the gutters of Paris
To the castles of Rome
On the far Berber hilltops,
And the wild Indian Ocean
I have heard you forever,
Always calling me home.

Chorus:

Across the miles and over the years,
I hear you call:
"When will you come home?
When will you come home?"
Over
And over.

From the ancient beginnings
On a forgotten planet
To far hills where Arcturus
Brings the light of the dawn
From a lifetime of wonder
To the dead steaming jungle
One sure note has continued
Always, calling me on.

Chorus:

Across the miles and over the years,
I hear you call:
"When will you come home?
When will you come home?"
Over
And over.

Bridge:

     I need no journey other than simply finding you
     The wildest place or time cannot undo me
     A single thread of knowing you are true
     Will always renew me

From the galaxy's center
To a small sleepy planet
Where the song of the ocean
Meets the dreams of the dew
Over light years and aeons
Over battles and dying
Still your voice sweetly calls me,
Always strong, always new

Chorus:

Across the miles and over the years,
I hear you call:
"When will you come home?
When will you come home?"
Over
And over.

Coda:
     Over,
     And over
     Again.

Subject: SB: A Conversation In Bed by Amergin
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:25 PM

A Conversation In Bed by Amergin

She holds him to her dampened breast
Wiping his eyes, glistening with sweat
His hair curls across his forehead, red, brown wet
He presses his face deep into her shoulder
Feeling his tears dripping down his face
As the salt gently coats her fair skin
The water sizzles with the warmth of her embrace 

She tells to him, her own tears in her voice,
"I am so very sorry for hurting your heart,
I just don't know what to do, what is best for you
This confusion is tearing me apart.
You know I never promised you a future
You deserve a girl better than one like me
One that can give to you what you need
One that can give you a bouncing baby." 

He pulls himself from her tear-stained body
And looks into the pupils of her eyes
"Yes," his voice cracks in his ears
"I could find a girl," he softly sighs
"I could find one that doesn't have kids
One who knows what she wants, not confused
One who lets me take care of her
But that other girl would not be you." 

She tugs him close to her body once more
As his body twitches in time with hers
Sobbing escaping two sets of lips
To be with her he secretly yearns
He feels the fluid crawling down his cheek
And listens to the music of his silent weeping
He thinks of their times walking together
His breathing slows and soon he is sleeping 

Subject: SB: The '65 Newport Ragtop Blues by reggie miles
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:22 PM

The '65 Newport Ragtop Blues by reggie miles 2003

reggie's Comments:  A drivin', vaguely folkish, rockin' blues, it's inspired by my very own midlife Chrysler and my somewhat checkered experiences with my musical pursuits.


Flyin' down the highway,
Loaded for a gig,
My radio is rappin'.
My ragtop is flappin',
To pieces in the wind.

People stare but I don't care,
At my midlife Chrysler sled.
Yeah she's a long, low, lean,
Mean American machine,
And she loves to burn lead.

These one night stands are goin' nowhere.
But what's a poor boy got lose?
My radiator's got a leak.
I'm burnin' oil like a sheik.
I've got the '65 Newport ragtop blues.

Traffic is a jammin',
In the gray overcast.
My 383's puffin' smoke,
My odometer is broke,
I'm goin' nowhere fast.

The rain starts to fallin'.
The wiper's givin' up the ghost.
The steerin' pump is squeelin'.
I gotta bad feelin'.
She won't make the next post.

People say, "Don't play your life away,
Spinnin' yer wheels in those same ol' grooves."
I'm usin' what I got cuz it's all I got to use.
I got the '65 Newport ragtop blues.

People say, "Cut your hair and get a real job."
But then, who's gonna pay my dues?
I just wave, so long, as I pass them by,
With the '65 Newport ragtop blues.

Subject: SB: 1AD and 1BC by McGrath of Harlow
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:20 PM

WILLIE-O'S SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!

Willie-O's Song Challenge:  The way the contents of Áine's Mudcat Songbook are ordered, the first song listed is my ballad "1743", because the index puts numbered titles in sequence first, then alphabetizes the rest.  So here's my challenge: write a song about a year or event which preceded 1743 AD, (as far back as 1742 BC actually), entitle it accordingly, and knock me out of the top spot! I dare ya!


1AD and 1BC by McGrath of Harlow
(Tune:  Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star)

1AD and 1BC 
came and went mysteriously,
angels singing joyfully
shepherds, stars and Wise Men Three,
ox and ass and you and me,
something new has come to be

Kevin McGrath 2000

Subject: SB: 1743 (The Ballad of Farquhar Shaw) by Willie-O
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:17 PM

1743 (The Ballad of Farquhar Shaw) by Willie-O
(For tune in ABC format, click here)


Willie-O's Comments:   This is a pretty much accurate account of a mass mutiny of a bunch of highlanders in the Black Watch, as described by John Prebble in his book "Mutiny!" It took me basically one night to write this, the story had every element you could want for a good Scottish song–an English betrayal, (not only were the soldiers lied to about their destination, they were not getting enough oatmeal–how to piss off a Scot!) a triple execution, and a mass exile. There were some odd twists to the story–in fact, nine of the mutineers must have made it home (from London back to the Highlands, on foot, with most of the British army looking for them) for they were never heard of again. The last verse is conjecture on my part – some of the exiled mutineers were sent to Georgia, to a colony that was about to disappear. Many years later it was found that some Scotsmen, exact origins unknown, had joined forces and intermarried with Cherokees, (before the Trail of Tears when they were still in the East, obviously) according to the book "Creek Mary's Blood" by Dee Brown, which describes a natural affinity between the two peoples. I like the idea that some of the mutineers or their descendants found freedom in North America.


1.     Of Farquhar Shaw from Rothiemurchus a tale there is to tell
        A private of the king's Black Watch and one that I knew well.
        For I'm a piper from the same, I'm Donald MacDonell
        And them that calls us mutineers can all go rot in hell.

2.     Our regiment was Highland-born and there we should have stayed.
        We're told we'll keep the peace at home and wear our colours plaid.
        But it's first we're marched to Edinburgh, then Berwick on the Tweed,
        Then they sent us off to London town, spring 1743.

3.    We're told we'll just be strolling down to parade before the King.
        And then to turn about and to our families return.
        They must have thought us bloody fools, or half-wits not to know.
        We were bound for to fight the French in Flanders.

4.    In a tavern on the Great North Road we met some lowland Scots.
        And for each one that still drew breath were nine comrades did not.
        They told us we were lucky men if only Flanders was our lot
        For ten times worse were the fever swamps of Jamaica.

5.    The King he never saw us but just ordered us to war.
        Whether Flanders or Jamaica did nae matter any more.
        Betrayed and angry Highlanders, a hundred and a score
        Determined that they'd march for hame, and soldiers be no more.

6.    We met on Finchley Common on the seventeenth night of May
        Gathered in the darkness and prepared to steal away.
        It was there our sergeant found us and he ordered us to stay
        But Farquhar Shaw o'erpowered him, and we went on our way.

7.    Now Shaw was not some Highland laird of gentlemanly birth;
        A cattle thief, to tell the truth, but I hold him in some worth,
        For when ninety-eight of us stepped out, and all laid down our swords
        He swore he'd die or reach his mountains and his freedom.

8.    Though sick he was and wearing still the Regiment's green plaid,
        Shaw travelled on for three more days, and sixty miles he made
        Until exhaustion laid him low and he was found by William Sneyd
        And sent to join us in the Tower of London.

9.    They'd singled out two corporals and a piper for to die
        The corporals were MacPherson lads and the piper he was I.
        But when Shaw was taken prisoner the courts did then decide
        Instead of me he would be shot with the MacPhersons.

10.    Three knelt upon the ground within the Tower chapel yard
        A musket volley finished them and the leaving it was hard.
        But for a' that, their souls were freed, while ours would soon be scarred
        For we're transported and shall ne'er again see Scotland.

11.    Some went tae Gibraltar and some the Leeward Isles,
        But the last of us was Georgia bound in the colonies sae wild.
        I'll ne'er again pass Arthur's Seat and tae my Highland hame retire
        But my pipes still keen in the haunted glens of Georgia.
        I'll ne'er again pass Arthur's Seat and tae my Highland hame retire
        But my pipes still keen in the haunted glens of Georgia.

c. Bill Cameron, 1984

Subject: Mudcat Songbook:Virginia Dare (1606) - Lonesome EJ
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:15 PM

WILLIE-O'S SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!

Willie-O's Song Challenge:  The way the contents of Áine's Mudcat Songbook are ordered, the first song listed is my ballad "1743", because the index puts numbered titles in sequence first, then alphabetizes the rest.  So here's my challenge: write a song about a year or event which preceded 1743 AD, (as far back as 1742 BC actually), entitle it accordingly, and knock me out of the top spot! I dare ya!


Virginia Dare (1606) by Lonesome EJ

LEJ's Comments:   Virginia Dare was the first child born to English Colonists in North America.  Her parents were Ananias and Ellinor Dare, Ananias being the Governor of the Roanoke Colony.  She was born the year of the colony's establishment, 1597.  Three months after her birth, Sir Walter Raleigh (the Founder of Roanoke) returned to England for additional supplies and settlers.  The outbreak of hostilities with the Spanish prevented Raleigh's return until 1601, when no trace was found of the Roanoke Colony, other than the word Croatoan carved on a tree.  Genetic studies on a local Native American tribe indicate the presence of European DNA, suggesting the survivors were absorbed into the local Native American population.   My thought behind the song was this:  Had she survived (along with some few others from the Roanoke Colony), Raleigh, her parents, the galleons and England itself would have been well remembered by the surviving adults, but she would know them only through stories.  In a way, they might have become part of a personal mythology to her, a mythology that would seem doubly magical for having no counterpart in her new life.  Life would have been difficult at best living as a member of a native tribe -- I believe she would have seen the galleon sails as s sort of divine intervention.


Each evening as the sun does set, I stand upon the shore
To gaze upon the endless sea, to hear the breakers roar
To seek against horizon's edge the bright returning sails
Until the stars are in the East, and the fading daylight fails. 

It has been nine summers now since my birth in Roanoke
and six years since the fever came to claim my friends and folk
Brave Raleigh swore he would return, when he left with galleons three
But it is nine years, and still no sign of sail upon the sea. 

One hundred twenty-seven souls dwelled in our colony
But hunger and the pestilence brought us down to twenty three
Ananias, my Father, and my Mother Ellinor
Were buried with the others on this dark and foreign shore. 

And though the drought was savage, with little for any to eat
A tribe of Indians took us in and gave us corn and meat
They took us in their canoes from the death at Roanoke
And Will Clarke carved our new home's name "Croatoan" on an oak. 

And I am nine years old now, and these people think it odd
I long for returning strangers, from England's foreign sod
But still I stand upon the shore, and search for foreign sails
Until the stars are in the East, and the fading daylight fails.

Subject: SB: 1603-March 25th by MMario
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:13 PM

WILLIE-O'S SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!

Willie-O's Song Challenge:  The way the contents of Áine's Mudcat Songbook are ordered, the first song listed is my ballad "1743", because the index puts numbered titles in sequence first, then alphabetizes the rest.  So here's my challenge: write a song about a year or event which preceded 1743 AD, (as far back as 1742 BC actually), entitle it accordingly, and knock me out of the top spot! I dare ya!


1603-March 25th by MMario

Does anyone here remember Good King Harry?
He was England when I was young
It seems like yesterday 
That he was on the throne
But I just turned around and he is gone. 

Does anyone here remember Harry's son?
Why did he have to die so young?
It seems like yesterday
That he was on the throne
But I just turned around and he is gone 

Does anyone here remember Bloody Mary?
Can't say I'm sad that she is gone
But it seems just yesterday
That she was on the throne
And I just turned around and she is gone. 

Has anyone here seen Good Queen Bess?
She's ruled us all for oh so long;
It seems just yesterday
When she was young and strong
Then I turned around and she was gone. 

Subject: Mudcat Songbook: 1066 (by Amos)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:10 PM

Willie-O's Song Challenge:  The way the contents of Áine's Mudcat Songbook are ordered, the first song listed is my ballad "1743", because the index puts numbered titles in sequence first, then alphabetizes the rest.  So here's my challenge: write a song about a year or event which preceded 1743 AD, (as far back as 1742 BC actually), entitle it accordingly, and knock me out of the top spot! I dare ya!

1066 by Amos

Come forth, come forth, ye Saxon theigns! 
Ye blue blooded heros many 
Stand up, stand up to William's hordes 
From Bogside to Boeny 

Your homes and sons and loving wives 
The tyrants will be wasting 
Come forth, bold churls, and armoured ride 
And meet us down at Hasting 

At Stanford Bridge, brave Harold's men 
Hadrada's force have smitten 
And now three hundred miles will march 
To Caldbec, it is written 

With long swords high the foe we will meet 
Our battle lines are forming, 
Be not misled by bold retreat, 
Beware the wiley Norman 

But Hastings grasses ran with blood 
Where Edwin's sons lay dying 
And Tostig's shades are standing there 
Where the Norman flag is flying 

Our fyrd and fleet all broken lie 
Their battle axes broken 
On Hastings field, by pennants high 
Cruel treachery is spoken 

Farewell to Wight, where Danish hordes 
Have burst our barriers through 
Weep long, you Saxon maidens fair 
For the men that William slew 

Now Angle men and Picts so bold, 
In flight and fear are calling 
The field is red with blood once true, 
And England fair has fallen.  

Subject: SB: 001 (by Amos)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:09 PM

Anyone is welcome to perform these songs in public without royalties; however, if any of them are recorded or published for profit, the writers/composers expect the usual royalties.

WILLIE-O'S SONG CHALLENGE WINNER!

Willie-O's Song Challenge:  The way the contents of Áine's Mudcat Songbook are ordered, the first song listed is my ballad "1743", because the index puts numbered titles in sequence first, then alphabetizes the rest.  So here's my challenge: write a song about a year or event which preceded 1743 AD, (as far back as 1742 BC actually), entitle it accordingly, and knock me out of the top spot! I dare ya!

001 by Amos

In the year of zero-one 
Harsh cruelty its work had done 
The Romans had their little fun 
On the hill of Calvary

But they had not considered Saul 
And Mark, and Matthew, John and Paul 
And the messages they carried all 
The Empire's end would see

Long after the barbaric knell 
Dispersed the legions half to hell 
Their stories still the monks would tell 
Across the Northern seas

(Left for others to continue as they wish)

Subject: RE: Aine's Mudcat Songbook gone?
From: Joe Offer
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 05:01 PM

Looks like the last copy of the Songbook at archive.org was February 9, 2008
I think I'll change this into a PermaThread to hold the songbook. Please don't submit songs to this thread - at least, not for now. I haven't figured out an easy way to fix the index, so it won't work right until I have time to think about it. Kat will take care of contacting Aine. Thanks.
-Joe-

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This is an edited Mudcat PermaThread©, intended to duplicate the offsite Mudcat Songbook. Feel free to post to this thread, but be aware that all posts are subject to editing or deletion. In fact, probably most or all messages will be deleted until the entire songbook has been posted. This thread will be moderated by Mousethief.
-Joe Offer, Forum Moderator

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And yes, I know that this needs fixing. The links won't work until Mousethief completes this project.

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The Mudcat Songbook
(Original Songs and Music from the Folks at The Mudcat Cafe)

Dedicated to Skarpi in Iceland (whose idea this was in the first place!)

The Mudcat Forum	The Mudcat Resource Pages	The Mudcat Midi Page	The Digital Tradition Folk Song Server
New Page!			New Song Category!
The Mudcat Storytellers' Page (Submissions Wanted!!) Got a great original story?  Whether it be a knee-slapper or a five hanky tale, share it with the Mudcats on this very special page for very special storytellers.			Songs Of Inspiration and Celebration (Submissions Wanted!!) Have you got an original song of inspiration or celebration you'd like to share? Is there a special holiday song you've written? Now's your chance!

Anyone is welcome to perform these songs in public without royalties; however, if any of them are recorded or published for profit, the writers/composers expect the usual royalties.

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Song Categories
Folk Songs	Songs of Inspiration and Celebration	Parodies	Thread Songs	Song Challenge Winners	Tunes

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Folk Songs

001 by Amos
1066 by Amos
1603-March 25th by MMario
(1606) Virginia Dare by Lonesome EJ
1743 (The Ballad of Farquhar Shaw) by Willie-O
1AD and 1BC by McGrath of Harlow
The '65 Newport Ragtop Blues by reggie miles
A Conversation In Bed by Amergin
Across the Miles and Over the Years by Amos
A Different Kind by Mrs. Shambles
A Dilly Of A Tale by reggie miles
A Dram For Yarrow by InOBU
A Good Line by Spider Tom
A Grown-ups' Lullaby by CapriUni
A Late Night Walk by Amergin
A Little Titian by The Shambles
A Mere Man by The Shambles
A Mother's Kiss by Don Meixner
A Non-scents Song! by Bradypus
A Prayer For The Madness Of Leap Year by Praise
A Run For Home by Metchosin (a work in progress)
A Seafarer's Lament by Amergin
A Sleepless Night by Amergin
A Soldier's Lament by Irish sergeant
A Song for Mudcatters by The Shambles
Ahukahuba How 'Bout You? by Reggie Miles
Ain't Dreams Wonderful Things? by The Shambles
All Hail Flag Day by mousethief
All Horses Go To Heaven by Amergin
Alba by Troll
An Bhean Chaointe by Áine
An Emigrant's Daughter by Barry Taylor
The Anna Grace by Willie-O
Another Journey By Train by The Shambles
Ar Bhóthar i gCósovó by Áine
The Art Of Conversation by The Shambles
As We Keep The Old Music Alive by McGrath of Harlow
At The Edge Of Town by Amergin
Autumn Gold by The Shambles
Back To Basics by The Shambles
The Ballad of Karla Faye Tucker by Ivan
Ballad of A Would-Be Mudcatter by ScottyG
Ballade of Moderate Compassion by McGrath of Harlow
Before We Knew His Name by Dharmabum
Being Vulgar by Spider Tom
Bert's Song Pages by Bert
Bess Is Our King by MMario
Better To Fail by The Shambles
The Bigot's Song by The Shambles
Bitter Words by The Shambles
Black Is The Colour (Of My True Love's Eye) by Amergin
Black Nylon Thread by Amergin
The Black Velvet Band by Mbo
The Blackboard Singer by Shimbo Darktree
Bloody Edward by Mbo
Blue Collar Blues by reggie miles
Bodie by Mudjack
Born On The Run by The Shambles
Bouncing on the Bed by Trapper
The Braunston Belle And The Number One by The Shambles
Brigade by Mbo
Bring The Peace Home by Kara
Brittany's Lullaby by Amergin
The Broken 'Okie' by The Shambles
Cambrian Colliery Disaster by bill\sables
Candles In The Snow by Amergin
Captain O' My Heart by markf
Céad Míle Fáilte by Pinetop Slim
The Chestnut Ward by McGrath of Harlow
Chicago Blues by mousethief
Children Of Erin by Amos
Cloud Cuckoo Land by Schantieman
Come Ye Back, My Love by Amergin
Country Boy by NamFrank
Crayon-Colored World by JL in Ozland
CRAZYBIRD! by The Crazy Bird
The Cuckoo Fleadh by Pinetop Slim
The Cull by Spider Tom
The Culling Fields by Willa
The Dark And The Light by Mbo
Darkest Central Savannah River Taliaferro by MichaelAnthony
Dead Man Walking Blues by The Shambles
Death Row Caddy I by MichaelAnthony and Dirty
Death Row Caddy II by MichaelAnthony and Dirty
The Dinosaurs . . . by McGrath of Harlow
Donning The Red by Amergin
Down On Barky's Farm by Bert
Down On the Border by The Shambles
The Downieville Nugget by harpgirl
The Drunkard King by Amergin
Duct and Cover by reggie miles
The Endless Roads by McGrath of Harlow
Existential Sheep by mousethief
The Fire At Slane by markf
Firefall by Mbo
The First Time by Amergin
The Flag With A Thousand Stars by bert
The Flamers Game by Gareth
Floating by Amergin
For Caroline by Bradypus
For What It's Worth by Mbo
F-R-E-E by reggie miles
"Friends" by MMario
Friends Like You by nutty
The Game by Amergin
Ghosts Of Our Nation by InOBU
Going Up The 'Ace' by The Shambles
Good For the Heart (also (click) by Jacob Bloom
The Green Autumn Stubble; Poem by Patrick Brown, Chorus by Matthew Richards (Mbo)
The Great Music Show by McGrath of Harlow
Greet Me In The Morning by Kathleen Logan
Grieving by Spider Tom
Grossosity! by reggie miles
Half Written Letter by JudeL
Hell No To The WTO by reggie miles
Hello, Michael, It's Me by Amergin
He's Gonna Go to War by Amos
Hiders In Holes by The Shambles
Hilary's Piggies by The Singing Referee
His Only Consolation by Amergin
Homeless, Broke and Hungry by reggie miles
How Did I Get Here? by Amergin
Hummingbird Song by harpgirl
I Can't Reach My Beer by Frankee
I Wish I Was Back Home by Amergin
Ice Damming by Barry Finn
Ida Lewis by Barry Finn
I'd Rather Smell by SINSULL
I Got Your Love by khandu
I'll Tell You 'Bout Life In The Country by McGrath of Harlow
I'm As Irish As A Texas Girl Can Be! by Áine
I'm Respectable Now by The Shambles
In Hiding by Amergin
In Praise Of Barky by Mbo
Into My Thoughts by Amergin
The Shambles
Islands and Oasis by The Shambles
It Sure As Hell Ain't Country by Kendall
It's A Funny Ol' World by tradsteve
I Want To Get My Picture On The BBC by Bradypus
Jack Lewin's Gold by Jack Lewin (a/k/a kevin gilfoy)
Jason's Song by The Shambles
Jesus Is Coming -- Look Busy! by Praise
Just Another Love Song by Amergin
Justice En Lieu by Charley Noble
Lady Of Substance by The Shambles
Lady of the Darkness by Micca
Lament Of Captain McVay by Amergin
The Last Roar by The Shambles
The Last Time by Amergin
Like The Sea by The Shambles
The Lilt Of A Grandmother's Song by bert
Little Cat by McGrath of Harlow
Listen to Me by The Shambles
Listen To Your Heart by McGrath of Harlow
The Little Family by McGrath of Harlow
Liverpool Bay by Matthew Edwards
Llanfair by Liz the Squeak
Lord Bartock, Lady Clare and Locklan (The Locksmith) by Spider Tom
Lough Neagh by InOBU
Louisiana Bound by harpgirl
Lullaby for A Borrowed Child or The Uncle's Lament by MMario
Marching with King by InOBU
Margaret's Song by Amos
Marilee by MMario
Mary Ann's Walla Walla Woman Blues by Amos
Mary's Knocking Shop by KingBrilliant
Master Of The Stars by Mbo
Memories of Heaven by Amergin
The Memories Stay by Amergin
Men Get The Blues, Women See Red by The Shambles
Molly Malone (Cockles and Mussels) Additional Verses by Sarah2
Mona Lisa Never Really Smile by MichaelAnthony
The Monkey Parade? by The Shambles
Mood Swings by Amergin
Moon On The HIll by Amos
Morning Has Broken by Mbo
Move on Down the Line by The Shambles
Mudcat Cafe Number 61 by Amos
Mustang Ranch Blues by harpgirl
My Cookie Is Corrupt! by The Crazy Bird
My Grandfather Hated The Germans by Micca
My Mother's Garden by Jeri
Naturally Sweet by reggie miles
Never by Kelida
Never Too Far From My Heart by Amergin
The Night Before Mudcat Christmas by Mbo, Caitrin, MMario, and InOBU (Larry)
The Night That Young Barky Got Busted by Amos, Áine and Mbo
No Bullshit From You by Amos
No Tomorrow For The Poor by Barry Finn
Now Comes The Time by Allan C.
Now Honor Him by MMario
Now You're Not There by The Shambles
O Elian by Praise
Off To The Sugarbush Again by Bill Cameron ("Willie-O") & Gary Glover
Oh, Damn It All by Morticia aka TerriM
Old Glory Sails by Barry Finn
Old Wives Tales by The Shambles
The Once and Future Ken by McGrath of Harlow
Only In America? by McGrath of Harlow
Only The Shannon Knows by Mbo
The Only Time That Matters Is Now by The Shambles
Over the Edge of the World by McGrath of Harlow
Pitman's Redundancy Pay by bill\sables
The Planets Seven by Joseph Mary Plunkett, Tune by McGrath of Harlow
Pleasures Of A Backdoor Man by Amergin
Porcelain Angels by Dharmabum
Portaferry Mudcats by Micca
The Price To Pay (The Party, Party Song) by The Shambles
The Pride of Llanfair by Matthew Edwards
The Princess of Wester Sion by DaveP
Protest Neurosis! by Amos
The Provo's Song by Lonesome EJ
Quicksilver by The Shambles
Rachel Corrie by InOBU
Rachel Corrie by McGrath of Harlow
Radio Song by Spider Tom
The Rainbow Promise by MMario
Rains Of April Mourning Song by MichaelAnthony
Ranzo, Benbow by Schantieman
Red Pine's Yellow Blues by Willie-O
Reply To Lilac Acres by MMario
Rise Up Screaming by Barry Finn
The Road by skarpi
The Road Goes Ever On by Mbo
Roll Down To It by Praise
Rosa, Oh, Rosa by Bev and Jerry
Rosie Again by KingBrilliant
Rough Diamond by The Shambles
Run With Me by Amergin
Running Waters by Amos
Saviour Of The Land by Mrs. Shambles
Say A Prayer For Dirty submitted by MichaelAnthony
Say Goodbye by Mbo
The Schmielzo Polka by Praise
Seeds of More by The Shambles
Shades Of Memory by Amergin
Shopping Cart Wrangler by Reggie Miles
Silence!! by Amergin
Silently, Silently by MMario
Silent Voices by Amergin
Singing Auld Lang Syne by Amergin
Singing Voices by Matthew Edwards
The Sinking by Micca and Dave (the ancient mariner)
Sir James' Reply by MMario
Sir Tristam by Barry Finn
The Smell Of Mother Nature by McGrath of Harlow
Soave, Soave by Schantieman
The Softest Touch by Spider Tom
Solace by Amergin
Song for Caroline by Bradypus
Song Of The Third World by InOBU
Spring On The Mississippi by Willie-O
Standing At The Altar by The Shambles
Stoneground by The Shambles and Mrs. Shambles
The Streets by Dharmabum
The Strength To Leave by mousethief
Such Is The God by The Shambles
Summertime At Fall Creek by Amergin
Summertime In Tennessee by Kim C
Sweet Columbine by Dharmabum
Talking Bill Gates Blues or Curtains for Bill Gates by P.J. Skinner
Talking Maple Syrup Blues by Willie-O
Tears And Winter Rain (A Song For Kayla) by The Shambles
That Mirror Image by The Shambles
That's Not My Colorado by katlaughing
That Wrong Road Again by BSeed
They Were Only Children by The Shambles
Thiepval by Micca
Thirty Pieces Of Silver by The Shambles
This Is Our House by Amergin
Time Zones by Micca
To A Child by mousethief
To Be With You by Amergin
The Token Reversed by McGrath of Harlow
To Write The Uni-Verse by The Shambles, Amos, Praise, katlaughing, Mbo, Troll, MMario, mcmoo,Molly Malone, and Lonesome EJ
Too Many Roosters by Pinetop Slim
Train Ride To Heaven by Mbo
Traweller's by Skarpi
Twenty Years Experience by Trapper
Union Worker, Union Boss by Barry Finn
Untitled by MMario
Valley Of The Towering Shadows by Genie
Vhere Da Rippling Vaters Flow by Lloyd62
The Virus Song by Mbo
We Can't Take Any More by Mary G
We Need More Administrators by BSeed
We Will Meet Again by Amergin
We're Alright Jack by The Shambles
What Did I Do? by Mbo
Where My Heart Softly Roams by Amergin
Where The Lilies Used To Spring by Mbo
The Whiskey The Girl and The Rebel by Jennifer
Whistlebinkie by Mbo
Whitby Coming Home by McGrath of Harlow
Whitby Fisherman by bill\sables
Why Barky's Not At Work Today by Mbo
Wild and Free by mousethief
The Wild Rover (reformed) by The Shambles
The Wilderness Trail by Amos
Without The Song (There's No Show) by The Shambles
Would You Like To Dance? by jeffp
Ye Brave Troubadour by Mbo
You Can Be A Street Musician! by reggie miles
You May Think I'm Lost by Amos
You Wouldn't Know It To Look At Me by Barry Finn
Young Love Old Love by The Shambles
Youth Is Wasted On The Young by The Shambles



Songs of Inspiration and Celebration

Bright Red Rose by The Crazy Bird
Bring Down The Walls by Amos
Cool Cup of Water by khandu
Down to the River by Kim C
Flesh of my Flesh by khandu
Harmony(One out of many) by Genie
Hearts of Glory by The Crazy Bird
If There's A God by Jerry Rasmussen
In Bethlehem Town by Haruo
Just Because You Like To Do It, That Don't Make It Right by Jerry Rasmussen
Raise All Your Voices by CapriUni
Raise Your Voices In The Song by Genie
Shelter From The Rain by reggie miles 2003
Shepherd Of My Soul by khandu
Singin' With The Big Choir by Genie
Wasn't That A Mighty Storm? by Jerry Rasmussen

Parodies

1999 Was The Date Of The Year by Dan Milner
A Bumbling Englishman by The Shambles
All Around My Fat by Penny Ward
Banks Of The Ohio (Revisited) by Sonja
The Birthday Song by Irish sergeant
Comin' Through The Rye by Alice
The Day They Slowed Ol' Mudcat Down by mousethief
The Devil Went Down to Dingle by Rich (Stupidbodhranplayerwhodoesn'tknowanybetter)
Do You Know The Way To Macramé by reggie miles
Don't Think Once by mousethief
Enron-ron-ron by mousethief
Fleece Mom and Dad! by Genie
The Hash My Father Scored by Micca
I'll Have Guinness Free by Sonja
Message to JennyO & Daylia by Nigel Parsons
Missing the Mudcat on the Banks of the Ohio by BSeed
Oh Boy, Danny by Peter Benson and Jeff Porterfield (jeffp)
Ripple (Flowed Like Water) by Sonja
The Road to Mudrock-O by Alice
Roll On Columbia by Alice
Roundup, Montana by Alice Flynn
Times Changing by Micca
Untitled (Tune-Auld Lang Syne) by Alice
You Can't Keep Me From Singing! by Gordon MacDonald

Thread Songs

A Better Way by Amos
A Mothers' Day by Spider Tom
A New Song for The Gathering by Matthew Edwards
A Scouting Song by InOBU, Morticia,  Áine, Liz the Squeak, ivy b*
A Song for the Gathering by Matthew Edwards
All The Fighting, Lord by Amergin
Anonymous, Unreal and Phony by mousethief
Away Upon The Mudcat! by Amos
Ballade Of The Brave New World by McGrath of Harlow
Better Than You by Amos
Bigfoot by EBarnacle
Bowling With Rutabagas by Amos
By Your Fruits by MMario, Amos and Willa
Caitrin and the Geeks by Amos
California Steamin' by Anonymous
The Cat Farts Serenade by Áine, Liz the Squeak, and Paddymac
The Chromosomes Genomical by Bradypus
Come All You Loyal Mudcats by Alice
The Crash of the Mudcat Server by Amos
Dance In The Mudcat Tavern by Amergin
Deadbird by mousethief
Empty Nester's Blues by Amos
Explicit Lyrics by Bradypus
The Famous Yacht Alinghi by Schantieman
Farewell by Amergin
Fred Dyer's Bees by Amos
Gastronomic Passions :<)) by Amos
Golden Colorado by tradsteve
How Many Folkies Does It Take To Change A Lightbulb? by Amos
I Think We're Not Alone Now by mousethief
I Wanna Go Down by Amergin
Is It Only In The Stories Miracles Happen by GreatGoo
Lament Of A Guardsman by Amergin
Love Bytes by Bradypus
The Lovely Ship The Mudcat by Kelida
The Manchester Mudcat Ramble by Matthew Edwards
May Your Sword Never Grow Rusty by Malveka
The Mbo Bop by Amos, Áine, and Metchosin
The Memory Banks of Mudcat by Catspaw49
Missin' The Mudcat Blues by BSeed
Modern Magic by MMario
The Mudcat Tavern Anthem by Susan A-R, Bert, Áine, Mían, and Alice
Mudcat's Y2K For What It's Worth by Dave (the ancient mariner)
My Bodhrán Is Too Tight by Troll
My First Love by Amergin
Ode To The Captain's Hearts by Kelida and Mbo
Ode To Thread Creep by Harry
Paean To Cleigh by Micca
The Panda Hall/Tait by Calach
Post-Apocalyptic Frenzy Letdown by Jeri
Reload! by Author Unknown (submitted by Patrish)
The Sex Life of Chinchillas by mousethief
The Ship from Old Russky (Mir) by mousethief
Sing It Elsewhere by The Shambles
Slug Songs (2) by Metchosin
The Submarine Kursk by IanC
Sugar Dog Man by Praise
Take Me Ol' Galoshes (English Version) by katlaughing, Metchosin and Mbo
Tak Me Ol' Galoshes (Highland Scots Version) by katlaughing, Metchosin and Mbo
That Dirty Little Coward! by Rick Fielding, Jeri, Sinsull, and Áine
There Once Was A Panda by Praise
Turing Testing Time by Bradypus
To Old Friend 'What-His-Name' by Kevin McGrath
The Towersey Ballad by Matthew Edwards
When A Packet Hits A Pocket by Author Unknown (submitted by Patrish)
The While Drover by The Shambles, Wolfgang, Alice, steve t., and Barbara
Whispers In The Breeze by Amergin
Will That Be Broadcast Or Cable, Sir? by Praise
The Woes Of The Gentlemen's Club by Amos and Lonesome EJ

Tunes

Tunes a-f
Tunes g-l
Tunes m-s
Tunes t-z
Andrea's Waltz by Mbo
Boo's Reel by Mbo
The First Thing by Mbo
Grandfather's Sporran by Mbo
The Green Autumn Stubble by Mbo
Israeli Reel by Mbo (ABC and Midi format)

Subject: Mudcat Song Book gone
From: katlaughing
Date: 13 Jan 10 - 04:23 PM

Anyone have a complete copy of Aine's Mudcat Songbook? It is no longer online, though some of it can be found at the Way Back site.

I'll call or email Aine and see if she has files she could send so it can be archived. I'd hate to see that lost.

kat

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Note from Joe Offer:
The complete Mudcat Songbook is available at https://web.archive.org/web/20220000000000*/http://www.geocities.com/doireanne/ but will be duplicated here for safekeeping.

The specific pages for each category within song challenge winners book are:

WINNERS OF THE GOLDEN COW CHIP AWARD WITH GUINNESS CREST

WINNERS OF THE GOLDEN COW CHIP AWARD WITH HARP RIBBON

WINNERS OF THE SUPER SPECIAL SANDSTONE SHEILA-NA-GIG OCARINA AWARD

WINNERS OF THE GOLDEN COW CHIP AWARD WITH SHAMROCK CLUSTER

WINNERS OF THE GOLDEN COW CHIP AWARD WITH MEMORIAL MMARIO SILVERPLATED SPITTOON

WINNERS OF THE GOLDEN COW CHIP AWARD WITH CLEIGH'S BLUE FUME SHIELD

WINNERS OF THE GOLDEN COW CHIP WITH TWO-FER-COUPON

WINNERS OF THE GOLDEN COW CHIP AWARD WITH DOO-LYN DITTY DIGGER DECORATION

WINNERS OF THE DOUBLE DIP COPPER COW CHIP (WITH SPRINKLES)

WINNERS OF THE WHOLE BAG O'CHIPS SPECIAL AWARD

WINNERS OF THE IMPERIAL ORDER OF THE ALL-IN-ONE GENIUS WITH PLATINUM TUFTS AWARD

Then there's the STORY TELLERS PAGE:

STORY TELLERS