Lyr Req: Last Will and Testament of Jake Thackray
ISABEL MAKES LOVE
THE BANTAM COCK
THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF JAKE THACKRAY
LOST Will and Testament of Jake Thackray-London (7)
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Lyr Req: songs by Jake Thackray (64)
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Jake Thackery (Thackray) on BBC4 - Oct 6 2006 (64)
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Jake Thackray, new EMI CD in April (3)
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Obit: Jake Thackray - RIP (5) (closed)
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Request: Jake Thackray Photos ? (5)
Lyr Req: songs by Jake Thackray (7)
Lyr Req: Sister Josephine (Jake Thackray) (11)
(origins) Origin: Bantam Cock (Jake Thackray) (1)
shot in the dark - Jake Thackray? (9)
Subject: Lyr Req: Jake Thakery last will and testament|
Date: 20 Jan 03 - 10:23 PM
Words and tune to ...? a performance of?
Jake Thackeray's Last Will and Testament
I am searching for further info (again ) and for a copy of a song I found ( on mudcats thanks to some helpful folks, "Sorcha" among them) called "Rab's last Wollen Testament".
I have never found the tune or a copy of anyone performing it Only some words sent by tha Above refrenced "Sorcha" which are found below.
Is it possible the Jake Thakerays tune is to the same song? I would love to hear someone doing it.
PS I have not been on mudcats for a long time and cant remember how I was registered I will have to do it
again but in the meantime if someone can assist in this please write me at firstname.lastname@example.org
THese are what I have been given so far..
RAB'S LAST WOLLEN TESTAMENT
by Robin Williamson
When I was a little boy
I used to take the time
To go and see old Rab McPhee
Down by the railway line
He was getting on in years then you know
And very fond of a drop of mountain whisky, and didn't he tell me so
He was always full of a good story, and he'd a nose like a weatherhane
He was never exactly drunk, but then he was never exactly sober anyway
And I often remember these words he used to say
Water is the strong stuff
It carries whales and ships
But water is the wrong stuff
Don't let it get past your lips
It rots your books
It wets your suits
Puts aches in all your bones
Dilute the stuff with whiskey
Aye, or leave it well alone
O whisky you're
Drunk or sober
Spare yourself contortions
With a drop of barley wine
A sensible precaution
To counteract the times
Brandy and rum are dandy for some
Wherever they might be sold
But a drop of mountain whisky
Isn't ot worth its weight in gold
Whisky, Nancy whisky
You're as sweet as the dew
I'm lonesome my darling
Since parting with you
Kiss me when you're with me
Be easy and free
and I'll throw away the bottle
and take you with me
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Jake Thakery last will and testament|
Date: 21 Jan 03 - 04:23 PM
Go to Edmund Chattoe's site. Type in Jake THACKRAY (note spelling) at Google and it will take you there. All Jake's lyrics and much more are there.
Subject: Lyr Add: LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF JAKE THACKRAY|
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 24 May 10 - 01:31 PM
From The Jake Thackray Web Site:
THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF JAKE THACKRAY
Words & Music: Jake Thackray
I, the under-mentioned, by this document
Do declare my true intentions, my last will, my testament.
When I turn up my toes, when I rattle my clack, when I agonise,
I want no great wet weepings, no tearing of hair, no wringing of hands,
No sighs, no lack-a-days, no woe-is-me's and none of your sad adieus.
Go, go, go and get the priest and then go get the booze, boys.
Death, where is thy victory? Grave, where is thy sting?
When I snuff it bury me quickly, then let carousels begin -
But not a do with a few ham sandwiches, a sausage roll or two and "A small port wine, please".
Roll the carpet right back, get cracking with your old Gay Gordons
And your knees up, shake it up, live it up, sup it up, hell of a kind of a time.
And if the coppers come around, well, tell them the party's mine, boys.
Let best beef be eaten, fill every empty glass,
Let no breast be beaten, let no tooth be gnashed.
Don't bother with a fancy tombstone or a big-deal angel or a little copper flower pot:
Grow a dog-rose in my eyes or a pussy-willow
But no forget-me-nots, no epitaphs, no keepsakes; you can let my memory slip.
You can say a prayer or two for me soul then, but - make it quick, boys.
Lady, if your bosom is heaving don't waste your bosom on me.
Let it heave for a man who's breathing, a man who can feel, a man who can see.
And to my cronies: you can read my books, you can drive around in my motor car.
And you can fish your trout with my fly and tackle, you can play on my guitar,
And sing my songs, wear my shirts. You can even settle my debts.
You can kiss my little missus if she's willing then, but - no regrets, boys.
Your rosebuds are numbered;
Gather them now for rosebuds' sake.
And if your hands aren't too encumbered
Gather a bud or two for Jake.