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14 Feb 00 - 02:00 PM (#178149) Subject: Lyr Add: PEBBLES IN THE SAND (Melanie Safka) From: Dave (the ancient mariner) An ancient mariner longing for the good old days invites a group of friends over to Mudcat Island for a few days of fun and music. Mudcat Island is on the East Coast near the border with The USA. It is a large island with a small safe harbour with room for several vessels. At low tide it is possible to drive campers onto the island via a short causeway. Since the down turn in the local fishery only the ancient mariner lives in the lighthouse keepers house; and a few biologists and meteorologists occasionally visit the Island. The lightkeepers house is quite large; and the old Lifeboat station attached has been converted into a sound stage with lighting. The old lighthouse has been replaced by a solar powered modern light. The ancient mariner is spending his retirement on the island; and has opened up all the spare rooms; and the assistant lighthouse keepers house for his friends to stay. Or if they camp or come by boat, provides refreshments and facilities for everyone... The stage is open refreshments are waiting; and a lovely lady he fell in love with years ago steps up on stage guitar in hand, and sings a gentle song for him......
PEBBLES IN THE SAND
Isnt it grand
Seasons of rain
Under the sun
Isn't it grand |
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14 Feb 00 - 02:37 PM (#178176) Subject: Lyr Add: BLACKBERRY WAY (Roy Wood) From: Mbo Up the road walks a rather bedraggled character--he has a raincoat on, but even with the hood that is pulled over his head, one can observe his short auburn hair and the twinkle of his spectacles. It is also evident that he has not used a razor in some time. In one hand, he carries a guitar, and in the other he grips a sack of filled with music and memories. He walks into the innkeeper's house and sets down his fardels. He gently removes his guitar from the soft case that had accompanied him through years of traveling. He pulls up a stool and starts to strum... Blackberry Way absolutely pouring down with rain, It's a terrible day. Up with the lark, silly girl I don't know what to say, She was running away. But now I'm standing on the corner, Lost in the things that I said. What am I supposed to do now? Goodbye Blackberry Way I can't see you, I don't need you. Goodbye Blackberry Way Sure to want me back another day. Flowers in the park overgrowing but the trees are bare There's a memory there. Boats on the lake, unattended now for all to drown I'm incredibly down. Just like myself they are neglected, Turn with my eyes to the wall What am I supposed to do now? Goodbye Blackberry Way I can't see you, I don't need you. Goodbye Blackberry Way Sure to want me back another day. Run for the train, look behind you for she may be there said a thing in the air Blackberry Way, See the battlefield of careless sins cast to the winds So full of emptiness without her, Lost in the words that I said. What am I supposed to do now? Goodbye Blackberry Way I can't see you, I don't need you. Goodbye Blackberry Way Sure to want me back another day. Goodbye Blackberry Way I can't see you, I don't need you. Goodbye Blackberry Way Sure to want me back another day. --Mbo |
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14 Feb 00 - 02:44 PM (#178177) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Ah nice song mate.. Come and grab a bowl of soup and some fresh bread.. Now I've got to put some coal on the fire, and get some beer up from below.. Help yerself to whatever takes yer fancy; and if ye want theres a room fer ye upstairs. Now here's a razor and towel freshen up for there's some beautifull ladies comming to this festival and you want to look yer best mate.. |
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14 Feb 00 - 03:01 PM (#178187) Subject: Lyr Add: THE ROSEVILLE FAIR (Bill Staines) From: wysiwyg A lovely lady whose accumulated life radiates from her strolls up, bearing an Autoharp case and tunbebinder. She grins in greeting as she sees the fellas lolling about waiting for her, and says, "Now my husband is parking the pop-up and he'll be along shortly, but it's Valentine's Day and I'd like us to be singing Roseville Fair when he arrives. Do you know it?" The assembled company quickly helps her get set up; there's a short delay while a table of appropriate height is found for the autoharp. She settles herself comfortably and pulls the first chords down strongly from the strings, and begins to sing a reminder of love starting and love enduring. THE ROSEVILLE FAIR (Bill Staines) Oh, the night was clear, and the stars were shining And the moon came up so quiet in the sky. And the people gathered 'round and the band was a-tuning. I can hear them now playing "Coming through the Rye." And we danced all night to the fiddle and the banjo. Their drifting tunes seemed to fill the air. So long ago, but I still remember When we fell in love at the Roseville Fair. Her husband has heard the tune floating to the camping area and has come, fiddle in hand. He's smiling that sweet private smile she doesn't see often enough, and he joins in. You were dressed in blue, and you looked so lovely, Just a gentle flower of a small town girl. You took my hand, and we stepped to the music. And with a single smile, you became my world. We courted well, and we courted dearly, And we'd rock for hours in the front porch chair Then a year went by from the time that I met you And I made you mine at the Roseville Fair So here's a song for all of the lovers, And here's a tune that they can share May they dance all night to the fiddle and the banjo The way we did at the Roseville Fair. The assembled company harmonizes the piece so well that it's awhile before they can let go of the song.... But look-- here come others to lend a tune and a laugh... |
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14 Feb 00 - 03:09 PM (#178193) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: katlaughing After washing up and freshening her tresses, a calico kat sits over in the corner by the window, a shaft of soft sunlight shining on her faded redhair. She closes her eyes in contentment, listening, and some swear they could hear a soft purr come from her way. Her heart is full this day with good friends, music, and the peacefullness found only in such blessed places as the Ancient Mariner's Island. When a kat finds a place this comfy, she may just wind up staying for a long, long time.:-) |
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14 Feb 00 - 03:13 PM (#178199) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos To seaward, white sails glinting in the setting sunlight, a long beautiful wooden schooner can be seen running down before the wind, her bearing fixed on the quay on the deepwater side of Mudcat Island. As she bears close you can see her name in gold on the bows in bright gilt letters -- The Mudcat Schooner -- and make out the figure of Joe high in the cross trees keeping a sharp eye on the channel in. At the last minute, almost too late, in an ineffable swoop of dauntless grace, the helm is turned down, the sheets are run out, and she spins on her heels nestling perfectly to the dockside in a clatter of lowering canvas and heaving lines. From the deck a score of 'Catters crowd to the rails, mandolins, banjos and Dreadnoughts blazing with perfect accord, their voices raised in a stirring sailor's tune: |
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14 Feb 00 - 03:19 PM (#178204) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: katlaughing (whispered aside) Sideboys?? Is that something like a made-to-order extramarital affair partner? Bored Wife: "Scuse me, I'd like to know what you have in Sideboys this week." Clerk: "Why, yes, Ma'am, step right this way, up the gangplank, as you can see by their piping, they have plenty of staying power. Now, will that be cash or charge?" (Sorry, DaveTAM, I couldn't pass that one up. Something about a sailor-man. Ah...) |
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14 Feb 00 - 03:25 PM (#178207) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Wow! A talking figurehead! That is waaaaay cool! I believe the expression comes from the custom of using midshipmites to pipe (by playing tunes on the bos'n' whistle) high officers on and off ships of the British navy. Sailor Dave would have the definitive word on that. (If you want a reference to the talking figurehead, see the full lyrics to the Mudcat Schooner song in the Songbook.) A |
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14 Feb 00 - 03:32 PM (#178210) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: katlaughing (Well, I'll be blowed (by the wind, only, me boy-o's!)When did you slip that one by me? And, did ya honestly think THIS figurehead would keep silent?**BG** T'anks!) |
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14 Feb 00 - 03:36 PM (#178212) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Willie-O (a muttering is heard from indeterminate source in the growing throng of bearded instrument-wielders)... "methinks a certain rusty-haired damsel has more'n music on her agile mind.... "You can see them all, the lads o' the fair
Tap another keg, Dave, I think the fun is just startin'
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14 Feb 00 - 03:36 PM (#178213) Subject: Lyr Add: MY LOVE IS LIKE A RED, RED ROSE (Burns) From: Dave (the ancient mariner) If someone will play I shall sing out My love is like a Red Red Rose, just for all you ladies on this day dedicated to love. (ancient mariner puts his spyglass down and wipes a tear from his eye)Softly sings.... MY LOVE IS LIKE A RED, RED ROSE. Robert Burns
O, my luve’s like a red, red rose,
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
’Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And fare thee weel, my only luve!
Ahhh Burns laddie you know how to speak to the heart of the matter. Yours, (wishin she was here) Aye. Dave |
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14 Feb 00 - 03:42 PM (#178216) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Davie lad, so sweetly sung! Come, up the gangway wi' ye and share a tot of dark brown rum in the aft cabin, to calm thy hurt! A |
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14 Feb 00 - 04:04 PM (#178237) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Ahhh Nelsons Blood The cure! Lovely Rum Capn Amos thank ye kindly... I have a barrel of Napoleons blood fresh from Saint Pierre Miquelon in my shack I'm breaking her out tonight fer "All Hands" Join in the singing and bring all yer mates ashore for a night....Yours,Aye. Dave |
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14 Feb 00 - 04:10 PM (#178242) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos That's all we were waiting for, mate! I think the possum will stand the in-port watch. Rest 'a youse lot is on libs. Anyone who gets too drunk to make it back on board sleeps ashore and we cast off wi' ye or not! Cletus has his Blue Peter handy, so keep a weather eye out for it! The gangplank trembles and thunders as scores of happy Catters carrying instruments swarm ashore, leaving a small possum patrolling the quarterdeck with a gimlet eye and his tailbone whistling in the light quartering breeze. A |
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14 Feb 00 - 04:18 PM (#178245) Subject: Lyr Add: SWEET TALKIN' WOMAN From: Mbo Pump this one up, me boy-os! I was searching on a one-way street I was hoping for a chance to meet I was waiting for the operator on the line She's gone so long! What can I do? Where could she be? Don't know what I'm gonna do I gotta get back to you. Slow down, sweet talking woman You got me running You got me searching Hold on, sweet talking lover It's so sad if that's the way it's over Sweet talking woman. I was walking, many days go by I was thinking, about the lonely nights Communication breakdown all around She's gone so long! What can I do? Where could she be now? Don't know what I'm gonna do I gotta get back to you. I've been living on a dead-end street I've been asking everybody I meet Insufficient data coming through She's gone so long! What can I do? Where could she be? Don't know what I'm gonna do I gotta get back to you. --Mbo |
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14 Feb 00 - 04:26 PM (#178248) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Ach, Mbo, plus ca change... Y'know Dave might have a slot for an assistant lighthouse keeper out here. The sea is a constant companion, if you respect her ways, and always fond of anyone who is truly ready for her. Good lessons to learn, and visions of beauty as will carry ye through yer whole life long. Ye could do worse. 'Course ye might have to grow yer hair a bitlonger (:>)) ) A |
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14 Feb 00 - 04:39 PM (#178255) Subject: Lyr Add: ROSE OF BRITAIN'S ISLE From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Aye Amos the lad needs to be at sea for a few months on a trip to tropical islands. After a few months, he'll find Cleigh attractive; that's when we'll send him ashore to find the cure.... Now A song about true love for you mates... ROSE OF BRITAIN'S ISLE Both high and low attention give And quickly you shall hear It's of a maiden fair and gay Who lived in Lincolnshire Her cheeks like blooming roses red On a face appeared a smile This fair one's name was lovely Jane The rose of Britain's Isle She was a farmer's daughter His pride and only joy And when eighteen she fell in love With her father's apprentice boy Young Edmond lived contented Jane did his heart beguile By all above, he cried, I love The rose of Britain's Isle Oh when her father came to know This couple a courting were He in an angry passion flew How dreadful he did swear Saying, If you bring disgrace on me I'll send you many a mile With great disdain you'll cross the main From the rose of Britain's Isle Young Edmond on board a ship was sent To sail across the main While Jane at home did weep and mourn Her bosom swelled with pain She dressed herself in sailor's clothes And in a little while On board of the ship with Edmond went The rose of Britain's Isle They had not been many days at sea When a storm it did arise And when young Edmond went aloft Jane wept with tearful eyes 'Twas little did young Edmond know That Jane did on him smile Or by his side did stand his bride The rose of Britain's Isle It was when they came near the coast of Spain The enemy gave the alarm And by a ball, young Jane did fall Which shattered her left arm The seamen ran to lend their aid While Jane in agony smiled The surgeon beheld some maid 'Tis the rose of Britain's Isle Young Edmond he was sore surprised And troubled with much pain And when young Jane recovered They were both sent home again And the people were with wonder struck And the villagers did smile Saying, you're welcome back, young Edmond And the rose of Britain's Isle Her father being dead and gone Most joyful to relate And all his gold, he willed to Jane Likewise a large estate And they were married while the bells did ring And the villagers did smile Long and happy may young Edmond reign With the rose of Britain's Isle |
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14 Feb 00 - 04:53 PM (#178261) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Peg Och, the songs 'o Rabbie Burns! They do melt a lassie's heart, so they do... (see the long-haired lassie, wiping away a happy tear as she sits near a tuft of salty grass, silver-blue seabreezes blowing the auburn strands about, bare toes dipped in pearly-white sand, legs wrapped in wave-dampened skirts of green and rose, the air is brisk but not cold here, alive with the smell of salt and storm, of silent sunrise forever pale orange, of kelp and kelpies, alive with the roaring music of the waves and the muted rhythms of the land, and somewhere not far distant the fragrance of loam and trees and fiery mountains...the lassie sits and listens and watches and waits for a song to come to her...) |
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14 Feb 00 - 05:22 PM (#178283) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: JedMarum Standing on the southeast corner of the island, just as the tide is coming in, another Mudcatter faces the late morning sun. Tall in his all weather coat, hood pulled over his head, long moments pass before he finally walks up to the lightkeeper's house. Once inside, he greets his host and other guests, and remembers a song his father used to sing - it plays through his head as the ancient mariner leads him to his room: Near Saint John's town the wind blows cold on winter eve'nings so I'm told And tears the heart Where spirits rest And tears the heart From my lover's breast I met her there at the Loyalist's fairground Her summer kiss, and heart aglow My Annie's love lit the fire of hope for This St John lad and his Grand Bay jo The summer passed And November tarried Now the ice forms massed And the cold wind carried We fought our way To bring our ship home Near the Bay of Fundy Slipped beneath the foam But I see her face at the Loyalist's fairground Her summer kiss, and heart aglow My Annie's love lit the fire of hope for This St John lad and his Grand Bay jo |
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14 Feb 00 - 05:47 PM (#178299) Subject: Lyr Add: SAIL AWAY SWEET SISTER (from Queen) From: Mbo Strum...strum...let's play the game... Hey little babe you're changing Babe are you feeling sore? It ain't no use in pretending You don't wanna play no more It's plain that you ain't no baby What would your mother say? You're all dressed up like a lady How come you behave this way? Sail away sweet sister Sail across the sea Maybe you'll find somebody To love you half as much as me My heart is always with you No matter what you do Sail away sweet sister I'll always be in love with you Forgive me for what I told you My heart makes a fool of me You know that I'll never hold you I know that you gotta be free Sail away sweet sister Sail across the sea Maybe you'll find somebody To love you half as much as me Take it the way you want it But when they let you down my friend Sail away sweet sister Back to my arms again Hot child don't you know you're young You got your whole life ahead of you? And you can throw it away too soon Way too soon Sail away sweet sister Sail across the sea Maybe you'll find somebody Who loves you half as much as me My heart is always with you No matter what you do Sail away sweet sister I'll always be in love with you --Mbo |
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14 Feb 00 - 05:54 PM (#178304) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Nicely written, Mbo. A balanced verse, euphonic, sweet. Put a tune on, and record it -- it definitely should go in the Mudcat Songbook. Now, it's time for you to start thinking about Leprechauns and yellow-half-moon shaped cereals! A |
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14 Feb 00 - 06:04 PM (#178310) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Mbo Sorry, Amos. Not mine. It's by a band called Queen--perhaps you've heard of them? --Mbo |
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14 Feb 00 - 06:06 PM (#178312) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Áine A booming (yet beautiful) voice comes from above: I SAID NO DANCING BLOODY LEPRECHAUNS!!
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14 Feb 00 - 06:10 PM (#178315) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Mbo It's funny about music, isn't it? There's always someone else out there who knows exactly how you feel when the write their songs--Brian May is a master. --Mbo |
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14 Feb 00 - 07:29 PM (#178348) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Mbo, the Cosmic Bodhran is ripping off across the blue ... did you invent some dancing leprechauns? I was in a traffic jam, couldna' been me...:>) A |
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14 Feb 00 - 08:05 PM (#178363) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos As I walked out upon the green When the morning was still pale I saw a wee small leprechaun A dancing on the swale He was hopping high and bowin' low And gaily dancéd he And I stopped and asked that I might know What made him dance so free! And he said, Fluffy marshamallows and crescent moons, Well, GG, as Frank Sinatra said, sometimes you git the bear, and sometimes... |
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14 Feb 00 - 08:07 PM (#178365) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Sorry -- the last ingredient is pale green stars, not small pink hearts. A |
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14 Feb 00 - 08:37 PM (#178376) Subject: Lyr/Tune Add: PHELIME From: GUEST,T in Oklahoma (Okiemockbird) The setting seems appropriate for a song about an island:
PHELIME
X: 1
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14 Feb 00 - 08:51 PM (#178389) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Okiemockbird Oops. The last word in the last line should be "ring". T. |
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14 Feb 00 - 09:10 PM (#178395) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha A lone fiddler staggers up the dunes, late as usual.(Navigation is not her thing)Poor lass can't write songs, but she plays a lot of tunes. (She's also a hellava cook, if help is needed in the galley)"Wanna fiddle around?", oops, that's the line for the kissing booth, and she hasn't paid Mbo. Sunck one from Cleigh, tho' while the Cap'n thought he was on watch!Seems to be the day for schmaltz, so let's schmaltz and smooch.(Tune:"My Wild Irish Rose") Will it be Paddy's Day soon? |
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14 Feb 00 - 09:19 PM (#178400) Subject: Lyr Add: COME BY THE HILLS From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Sadly the evening is closing. Another Valentines come and gone like so many others. The ancient mariner has been delivering red roses and chocolates to each couple on the island. Now the couples have no need of more music until tomorrow. The ancient mariner climbs to the top of the lighthouse, and sadly throws the last rose into the sea for "She" who never came. Sadly wending his weary way down to his room, he takes out the photo and gently gives it a kiss. Goodnight My Love. God send ye fair winds and following seas. He starts singing a song for those still walking in the glow of the moon. COME BY THE HILLS (Music: Traditional Gaelic [Buachaill On Eirne]; Words: Gordon Smith) Come by the hills to the land where fancy is free And stand where the peaks meet the sky and the lochs meet the sea Where the rivers run clear and the bracken is gold in the sun Ah, the cares of to-morrow can wait 'til this day is done Oh, come by the hills to the land where life is a song And sing while the birds fill the air with their joy all day long Where the trees sway in time and even the wind sings in tune Ah, the cares of to-morrow can wait 'til this day is done Come by the hills to the land where legend re-mains Where stories of old fill the heart and may yet come a-gain Where our past has been lost and the future has still to be won Ah, the cares of to-morrow can wait 'til this day is done |
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14 Feb 00 - 09:19 PM (#178401) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Gonna make a run to the mainland for more Barley Pop, back soon. Anybody want to place an order? |
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14 Feb 00 - 09:22 PM (#178405) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Case 'a Guinness -- and a coupl eof quart's of black Island Rum for the lonely Mariner there -- if he thinks he's gonna sink into melancholic oblivion this night, he has another thought comin'. A |
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14 Feb 00 - 09:42 PM (#178418) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Aye aye, Sir. I think that is Alchoholic Oblivion,'eh?Are there any sand-dabs left, or just lobster? |
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14 Feb 00 - 10:41 PM (#178458) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Susan A-R Yet another fiddler ambles along the beach looking at the beach, thenstopping to gaze at the moon sings Last night I dreamed a doleful dream of shipwrack and storm and harm Last night I saw the old moon lyin' with the new moon in her arms. Shaking herself, she pulls out the fiddle and begins playing Midnight on the Water, and dancing couples begin to drift out onto the beach to waltz to the lovely melody. A string of waltzes (Another Land, The O Carolan one she can never spell, Star of County Down, Margaret's Waltz, South Wind, and Ashokan Farewell spin out over the sea. Then the other fiddler with the beer reuturns and the pace shifts to more lively stuff. Even the possum joins in the dance, thumping his little clay paws and whistling a high descant to the tunes. Even that sad red headed guitar player takes a spin or two out on the sand, although he mainly plays an amazing guitar to give the danc body and to keep it grounded. A fine bonfire is blazing, and skewers of fish, roast corn and smores are sustaining the dancers as the moon rises high in the sky.
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14 Feb 00 - 10:43 PM (#178462) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: katlaughing (Uh, Amos, just so'se ya know, that abbreviating of the Gaelic Goddess? Might get misinterpreted, as it has previously been used in referring to another who frequents the 'Cat, that I doubt Áine would want to be mistaken for. Sorry, not meaning to bring storm clouds or anything, but it did give me start there for a minute.) Sheesh, are asides the ONLY thing a figurehead is allowed to do??**BG** Ah, here's a song, then, from Holy Near:
Won't you write a melody for me, pretty woman
Rock me in your arms, so far away
Won't you write a melody for me, pretty woman,
Rock me in your arms, so far away
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14 Feb 00 - 10:47 PM (#178466) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Susan A-R Oops. |
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14 Feb 00 - 10:52 PM (#178471) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Accch, for a figure head, she cuts a pretty mean figur ein her Own Right. Y'know I notice the Gaeilic Goddess didn't strike mne dead for putting the dancing leprechaun in to the thread. Maybe she thought my remark was aimed elsewhere... . Catters all, kAT and Susan especially, since the tide is going out on Valentine's Day and the smell of wet sand and salt breezes are in my face and you have been so kind and good as to create such beautiful song in my life...and as I've had several glasses of cheap wine with dinner...let me add, you have my undying affection and if you are ever in need of a Valentine I stand ready! I know of no finer honor in the world than so to serve the ladys of the Mudcat. With a will! With a Will!!. . Now I have to solve the puzzle of the lucky Charms.. . (He strides slowly, dragging his toes in the moist tide bed, to the schooner, gently riding at the quay with moonlight glinting from her spars and mast tops, and steps aboard, disappearing into the after cabin to drink black rum and compose quatrains to the Goddess...) |
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14 Feb 00 - 10:55 PM (#178474) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Ah, tis such a pity ye can't help Mbo and Max............ |
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15 Feb 00 - 12:04 AM (#178536) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Skipper A stands at the quarterdeck, gazing at the diamonds above, hearing their reflections in the salt waves below. He takes up a small parlor guitar fromt he head of the ganglplank and sings in a modal scale to the night, the wind, and the lapping endless waters: Take He sighs happily into the night-of-summer sky and goes below. |
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15 Feb 00 - 12:21 AM (#178543) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha If ya sing the blues, ya just got to feelin' better. |
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15 Feb 00 - 12:26 AM (#178544) Subject: Lyr Add: THE BRIDE OF THE WAVES OF SORROW From: katlaughing THE BRIDE OF THE WAVES OF SORROW
Oh, does thou know then
Then gather'd he, at midnight's rest
Twixt mournful sea and shore,
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15 Feb 00 - 12:29 AM (#178546) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: JedMarum salt wind blows beneath midnight sky gentle the wind streaks a cold wet kiss across my face and stings ever so slightly <>br> silent the stars lie deep in their heavan while distant waves crash and rush across the sandy shore beyond I face the eternal I taste the mystic I drink in the spirit of the North Atlantic
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15 Feb 00 - 12:36 AM (#178548) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Mbo Face the mighty waterfall They say love is a waterfall Pulls you in, takes you down It's a sad affair But you know if you hold back the power there Without your friends & lovers You could never go on living... --Mbo |
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15 Feb 00 - 12:40 AM (#178550) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Sorcha the Fiddler plays "The Parting Glass" and departs for her pavilion, til the morrow. |
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15 Feb 00 - 04:13 AM (#178600) Subject: Lyr Add: NEW YORK GIRLS From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Ahhh Dawn and time to clean the birdshite off the new light. Even elecktrickery modern things need a hand with cleaning once in a while. Duty calls I must obey. How about a nice breakfast shanty mates... As I walked down the Broadway One evening in July I met a maid who asked me trade And a sailor John says I AND AWAY, YOU SANTEE MY DEAR ANNIE OH, YOU NEW YORK GIRLS CAN'T YOU DANCE THE POLKA? To Tiffany's I took her I did not mind expense I bought her two gold earrings And they cost me fifteen cents Says she, 'You Limejuice sailor Now see me home you may' But when we reached her cottage door She this to me did say My flash man he's a Yankee With his hair cut short behind He wears a pair of long sea-boots And he sails in the Blackball Line He's homeward bound this evening And with me he will stay So get a move on, sailor-boy Get cracking on your way So I kissed her hard and proper Afore her flash man came And fare ye well, me Bowery gal I know your little game I wrapped me glad rags round me And to the docks did steer I'll never court another maid I'll stick to rum and beer I joined a Yankee blood-boat And sailed away next morn Don't ever fool around with gals You're safer off Cape Horn |
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15 Feb 00 - 04:36 AM (#178603) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Crowhugger Ahoy, there, DaveTAM, A shy gal, her guitar, banjo and cello in tow, breathes asquint into the pinking sun. Soon her face warms to the growing gold of daybreak and the air fills with the strains of an ancient mariner's brokenhearted song. A soft, mossy rock beckons so she sits to listen a bit. Presently the ancient's voice is joined by a low, sweet countermelody as he bares the grief of his loss. When a voice is so heartfelt, she cannot bear to ask why the bar is not open for a breakfast shandy... |
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15 Feb 00 - 07:26 AM (#178644) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Dave (the ancient mariner) (on duty) Bar is always open Crowhugger love, and your are welcome... There will be some fun and dancing tonight. Sailors are used to being brokenhearted, its an occupational hazard. Duty comes hard, but is also measure of true love. The ancient mariner knows that it is easy to love the myth, rather than the reality of life. Placing the twenty seven year old faded photograph, (that is all that remains of his greatest love) away until next year. He fills a glass and serves the early risers.. Someone said that Joe Offer and Rick Fielding are playing today I look forward to that... Oh ye New york Gals cant ye dance the Polka! |
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15 Feb 00 - 07:50 AM (#178652) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Callie Sorry I'm late folks. I turned up on the wrong island. Couldn't see the rocks for fur seals. ("for fur" - ain't those two words happy together?). Will you all join in a round of "Lowlands"? And then, i have a request for Mbo. Could you please give us "I Can't Get It Out of My Head"? Cheers! Callie |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:09 AM (#178656) Subject: Lyr Add: CAN'T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD (from ELO) From: Mbo Yes, oh yes, CALLIE! One of my personal favorite ELO songs EVER! Tears are coming to mine eyes... Midnight, on the water I saw the ocean's daughter Walking on a wave's chicane Staring as she called my name. And I can't get it out of my head No, I can't get it out of my head Now my old world is gone for dead 'Cos I can't get it out of my head. Breakdown, on the shoreline Can't move, it's an ebb tide Morning don't get here tonight Searching for her silver light. And I can't get it out of my head No, I can't get it out of my head Now my old world is gone for dead 'Cos I can't get it out of my head. Bank job, in the city Robin Hood & William Tell & Ivanhoe & Lancelot They don't envy me Sitting 'till the sun goes down In dreams the world keeps spinning round & round. And I can't get it out of my head No, I can't get it out of my head Now my old world is gone for dead 'Cos I can't get it out of my head. And I can't get it out of my head No, I can't get it out of my head Now my old world is gone for dead 'Cos I can't get it out of my head. Oh my God how I love ELO! Greatest music in the world! --Mbo |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:21 AM (#178660) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Callie What record is that on? I've always kept that in the hard-disk in my brain and thought I should look for it some day. Thanks for the lyrics! Callie (ps: I can't help but having noticed your adoration of Jeff Lynne. We had to write a story in high school about "who would you most like to have dinner with and why" and I wrote about an imaginary dinner with JL, where I asked him all sorts of musical questions and about recording techniques. The teacher wrote "who's Jeff Lynne?" on my story, and my classmates thought I had made him up. It was the mid-eighties and he wasn't exactly top 40 at the time) |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:31 AM (#178665) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Mbo WHOA! "Can't Get It Out Of My Head" is track two on The Electric Light Orchestra's gorgeous concept album, Eldorado. WOW...a dinner with The Lynnemeister himself! For my Computer Based Art class, I'm making a biographical digital collage--Jeff Lynne is sitting on a chair in the same room as me and Tolkien & my cat. The room also has the ELO Wurlitzer Logo, and text from some of their songs, including the soliliquy from "The Eldorado Overture." from the same album as above. If you EVER need any help with ELO, I'm the man to ask! You check out their lyrics at Spaceport ELO. and a superb collection of midis of almost all their songs at The Official ELO Fan Site. Aaah..mid-eighties, that would have been the albums Balance of Power and Secret Messages (on which my collage is based) Have fun, and let the starlight shine down on you! --Mbo |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:36 AM (#178668) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll Ineed no rum to warm my heart No poem or song to stir my passion For she who holds my heart in thrall as earth I wander, under sky She wanders with me, ever young as on the day when first we met the vision shines within my soul and drunk with love am I. troll |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:47 AM (#178676) Subject: Lyr Add: WINONA From: Mbo I tried to call you but the line was busy Were you talking to a friend And when I tried again much later I didn't want to let it ring again So you can see I've got a problem Back by popular demand Sometimes I want to keep it from you Sometimes I think you'll understand Could you be my little movie star? Could you be my long lost girl? Is it true that I don't really know you? That I'm alone in the world When I think maybe I need you I don't care if it's not true 'Cause it isn't so much what I need now As what I want from you Could you be my little movie star? Could you be my long lost girl? Is it true that I don't really know you? That I'm alone in the world I feel alone... I feel alone... --Mbo |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:50 AM (#178680) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Way Up, Annie, My Dear Annie! Oh, you New York girls, can't you dance the polka! When I awoke next mornig, Nothing could I see But a lady's dress and apron, Which now belonged to me!
So dressed in a lady's apron,
Cafe Royale, Mister Cook, for all hands! |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:54 AM (#178681) Subject: Lyr Add: THE OLD BROWNS HEAD LIGHT From: kendall And along comes an old salt with a song you may not know. It's a tribute to the old lighthouse keepers of the past. THE OLD BROWNS HEAD LIGHT (John McCutcheon) He sat at the table his eyes rimmed in red Saying, "Lucy, come see what the papers have said: We knew it was coming but, it still don't seem right. They are closing the old Browns Head Light. "And what about Charlie? Now what will he do When computers perform the one job that he knew? It's back to the big ships that forage the sound With his wife and his kids in some new place in town. CHORUS: "And it's many a lost soul he's seen safely home, And many a loved one he's brought to their own. A voice in the darkness, a star in the night, With a wish for good luck from that old Browns Head Light. "It was Boone Island, Saddleback, Egg Rock, Dice Head. Every year one more's wired or left there for dead. And it's one more old-timer washed up on the shore, As they hand him a gold watch, and show him the door. CHORUS "They call me old-fashioned. Guess maybe it's true, 'Cause I ain't learned to change quick as other folks do, But, it's the same thing all over, and the thing I fear most Is that Lucy, you know, we're the next light up coast. CHORUS: "And, it's many a lost soul I've seen safely home, And many a loved one I've brought to their own. I'm a voice in the darkness, a star in the night. I'm a wish for good luck from my home in the light." He sat at the table, his eyes rimmed in red, Saying, "Lucy, come see what the papers have said: It's hard to believe, but it's in black and white. They're closing the old Browns Head Light." |
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15 Feb 00 - 09:01 AM (#178691) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: kendall I've sailed by this light many times in years gone by. As a matter of fact, I attended a party at Portland Head Light with the last live keeper of that ancient beacon. They may be more efficient now, but, there is damn little romance in a big battery pack. "Wrap me up in me tarpaulin jacket, and say a poor duffers laid low, get six salty seamen to carry me with steps mournful solumn and slow..."" |
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15 Feb 00 - 09:10 AM (#178697) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Roger the skiffler The skiffler leaps ashore from a kaiki (or was he pushed?). Shaking the drops of water from his trusty kazoo [don't start, 'Spaw!] he launches into: "Island Woman" only to be divebombed by angry seagulls with perfect pitch. RtS |
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15 Feb 00 - 10:32 AM (#178742) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Peg ...the auburn haired lassie wanders back onto the beach after a night spent sleeping beneath pine boughs in a nearby wood. She rubs her eyes because she can't believe what she sees: Mudcatters, bedraggled, looking like they have not slept, still singing! Still playing! Still drinking! She sets about making them some coffee, heating water in a can over the driftwood fire...good thing Dave and Amos remembered some basic supplies...and Sorcha is attempting to make some sort of bread cooked on hot rocks...while Mbo is returning from a brief blackberry-picking expedition, his legs scratched by brambles and his lips slightly tinged with purple... ah! here it is: dark-roasted beans brewed extra strong, with chicory and hot milk...N'awlins style coffee on a Northeast beach! is there anything more decadent? Hey, can we get some beignets here? with blackberry jam? breakfast and song and salt sea air...ahhh.....
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15 Feb 00 - 10:39 AM (#178745) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll Hard tack, salt horse and coffee to soak it soft; a bit of music and a soft rock to lean on.A lisome lass and a following breeze. Heaven be hanged! I'm stayin' here. troll |
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15 Feb 00 - 10:45 AM (#178751) Subject: Lyr Add: FAREWELL TO CARLINGFORD From: Amos Hungover crew members are breaking out holystones, Brasso, and deck brooms, scrubbing and polishing until every nook of the schooner Mudcat gleams in the rising sun. The gangway watchman grabs the lanyard of the large brass bell and rings it eight times, looking around for his relief, and picks up a banjo left by a late night libertyman at the quartdeck, and plucks it thoughtfully. "On all of the stormy seven seas I have sailed before the mast, And in every port I ever made, I swore 't would be my last! A landsman's life is all his own, He can go or he can stay, But when the sea gets in your blood, When she calls, you must obey... So I'll sing farewell to Carlingford And farewell to Greenore And I'll think of you both day and night Until I return once more, until I return once more The relief appears to stand duty at the gangway head, and the watchman crosses to the waist where the topmast halyards are secured, a blue flag, furled and neatly tied. He undoes the stops and hauls away, raising the Blue Peter to the topmast, where the morning breeze sends it fluttering and calling, high above the schooner's gleaming deck, warning all hands that they must soon return to the sea. The watchman, relieved, goes forrard and retires below... |
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15 Feb 00 - 10:46 AM (#178752) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: MMario yegads! who sent poor Mbo off blackberry picking THIS time of year? No wonder his lips are purple, he's half froze! (Don't mind me folks, it took me ten minutes this morning to chisel my way into my car through the ice.) I'm just gonna pour me a cup of that coffee, sit back, enjoy the fire and the music. But 'round about lunch time, I've got a fire pit down the beach that's steaming up a lobster and clam bake. |
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15 Feb 00 - 10:50 AM (#178756) Subject: Lyr Add: MOMMA (from ELO) From: GUEST,Mbo She came up from the county with a smile for everyone She left her blue horizon just to find another home A lonely girl who'd travelled many days A lonely heart that could not find a way. And she said, Momma It's a hard life now you're gone Momma, it's so hard to carry on And I feel I'm a fool who lost it all You used to make it all so very clear That life must go on though the end is near Oh, Momma It's a sad and lonely life. A misty morning rider, she came wandering through the hills A wandering soul appearing over rainy window sills A loser in her heart, but in her face A smile for everyone under God's grace. Midnight maiden madness, what to search for in this place Gateway to the city, night sky shadows on her face A lady lost in nowhere but her stare Leaves the world, her life to start somewhere. --Mbo |
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15 Feb 00 - 10:51 AM (#178757) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Hardtack, nuttin'! We're having Blackberry Bannocks, cooked on hot rocks! (Actually, I have done it!) |
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15 Feb 00 - 10:53 AM (#178759) Subject: Lyr Add: THE BANKS OF NEWFOUNDLAND From: GUEST,Dave (the ancient mariner) Backberry Bannocks are lovely and good coffee too! luxury mates pure luxury...A song fer ye! THE BANKS OF NEWFOUNDLAND (3) Oh, you western ocean laborers, I would have you all beware When you go on board of a packet ship, no dungaree jumpers wear But have a big monkey jacket always at your command For there blow some cold nor'westers on the banks of Newfoundland We had one Lynch from Ballinahinch, Jimmy Murphy and Mike Moore It was in the winter of sixty-two; those poor boys suffered sore For they pawned their clothes in Liverpool or sold them out of hand (or shipped as they did stand) Never dreaming of cold nor'westers on the banks of Newfoundland So we'll rub her down and scrub her down with holystone and sand And we'll bid adieu to the Virgin Rocks and the banks of Newfoundland We had one female passenger, Bridget Reilly was her name To her I promised marriage; on me she had a claim She tore up her flannel petticoats to make mittens for us hands For she could not see us poor boys freeze on the banks of Newfoundland The mate jumps up on the capstan head and loudly he did roar: Come and rattle her in, me lively lads; we're bound for America's shore Then lay aloft and shake her out and give her all she'll stand And we'll bid adieu to the Virgin Rocks and the banks of Newfoundland So now it's reef and reef, me boys, with the canvas frozen hard And it's haul and pass, every mother's son, on a ninety-foot tops'l yard Never mind your boots and breeches, but haul or you'll be damned For there blow some cold nor'westers on the banks of Newfoundland And now we're off Sandy Hook, me boys, and the land's all covered in snow The tugboat will take our hawser, into New York we will tow And on the docks, come down in flocks, the pretty girls will stand Saying, It's warmer with me than it is at sea on the banks of Newfoundland |
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15 Feb 00 - 10:59 AM (#178762) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Sweet Peg, Share that au lait and I'll pass you a croissant -- nearest thing to a proper Louisiana beignet they make in these parts. Glad someone around here understands breakfast. I understand you can teach me the twostep before I muster all hands to leaving harbor stations? I remember a summer night just outside of New Orleans, dancing to a Cajun band and feeding barbecue to the gators -- no, really! -- one of my happiest memories. Ehhhhh, toi!! Une blonde si jolie! On fait danser, danser, toute la nuit! |
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15 Feb 00 - 11:04 AM (#178765) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Mbo Ahhhh...this it the perfect time for "One By One" that Hootie & The Blowfish do....good campfire song... --Mbo |
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15 Feb 00 - 11:09 AM (#178769) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll Ah... Sorcha lass, ye set an old mans heart to dreamin'. The sun is shinin' brightly o'er the deep and glitterin'water. Its warmth is feelin'good on my achin' weary bones. There's only you and I, lass, a-sittin' by the fire, And the blackberry bannocks are a-bakin' on the stones. There's black coffee boilin' in the pot upon the embers, Your soft hand in mine, girl, quiet and alone Tis good enough for me and I'll ask no more of heaven, As the blackberry bannocks lie a-bakin' on the stones. troll |
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15 Feb 00 - 11:15 AM (#178770) Subject: Lyr Add: ISLAND WOMAN (from The Spinners) From: Bert A decrepid raft drifts onto the beach and a ragged old fart stumbles ashore. "Now Skiff be boy! a lot of these here Yankees don't know 'Island Woman', that great song from The Spinners. Didn't Cliffie write that one?" "So let's sing it again for them, and here's the words so they can all sing along" Chorus: Island Woman, Island woman, making me forget o who I am Island Woman, Island woman, making me forget o who I am The fishing is good near your island That's why I come back for more I saw you swim near my boat and I followed you back to the shore Chorus: Forgot to go back to market sell me fish and get paid forgot my wife and my children forgot they soon will be aged. Chorus: You danced for me in the moonlight drank the rum and had fun When I awoke in the daylight you took my money and run Chorus: Now my pocket is full of empty I'm back with my family but someday when I have money I'll be coming back, you will see. Chorus: |
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15 Feb 00 - 11:22 AM (#178772) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Peg Amos: is it two-steppin' yer after, then?...nay, my sweet, only a waltz will do for my salty sea captain...besides, the evening is better for those more eneregetic songs...remember this is only my first cup of coffee! (and the motley band strikes up a rustic rendition of "Parting Glass" played in three...) (and the auburn lassie holds out her hand...) (and a lovely waltz is performed amid wistful smiles all around...) (and the captain and all hands decide they will stay on for more festivities before embarking...) did I hear we will have lobsters as the sun is setting? what fool would leave a musical lobster bake?
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15 Feb 00 - 11:41 AM (#178782) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Roger the skiffler That's the one, Bert, I learned it from Spinners concerts & records and was pleased to hear it sung in St Lucia a couple of years ago by a local group who were impressed we knew the chorus. (Less impressed by the accuracy of my singing I suspect!). RtS |
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15 Feb 00 - 12:01 PM (#178789) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: wysiwyg The deck crew desert their duty and swim ashore, seeing all the others have left ship for a rollicking good time. Several of them have just completed their arduous training and this is their first duty assignment. Since the women are now allowed to enlist, there is a lone female sailor in the pack. She's tired of weariung standard issue and the boyos are tired of looking at it. Off they go to Frederick's of Hollywood. "You model," say the boys after a quick consultation; "We'll plunder." "You're on," says she, always ready for a good time with her mates. Those standard issue brassieres not only pinch, they itch. Several hours later they return to port, heavy laden with much booty. One booty in particular is all tricked out and it ain't a mains'l. She's smiling, humming, "The Last of Barrett's Private Leers." The boys seek beer to replace the fluids lost. F'Rollickers on the shore are enjoying confections baked on hot rocks. The owner of the hot rocks is protesting, but feebly, as fresh blackberry bannocks are laid on to warm.... (My husband brought this story back from his trip to see our 2 Navy boys, who report that a trip to Frederick's was indeed done pretty much as described. Let's hear it for our brave and hearty girls in... uniform?) |
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15 Feb 00 - 12:02 PM (#178791) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Strike that Peter, quart'master. Seems a lady like a dove has commandeered our tides, and bid us tarry for the festivities tonight! And would n't you know it! -- her name really is...ah, never mind, you wouldn't believe me...but she dances like a dove. Hope I don't get in trouble for going around telling sailors to strike that Peter...butit seemed like a good idea at the time... |
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15 Feb 00 - 12:48 PM (#178805) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Peg well, then, good sir, now that's settled... do I hear some strapping able-bodied lads volunteering to gather more firewood? You, there, with the purple lips! Can ye gather driftwood as well as ye can pluck berries for bannocks? have we lobsters enough for all? corn on the cob? potatoes? oysters?(remember, all of nature's bounty is always in season at the Mudcat!) Praising the modern world for its plethora of choices in drink, let's get a few bottles of Reisling to put on ice...and plenty of stout...and a nice single malt scotch for later on... glasses? naw, we can pass the bottle just fine...we'll need to wet our lips plenty for all the singing to come!
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15 Feb 00 - 12:58 PM (#178809) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Now the lobsters would do well in a galvanized drum full of saltwater, laced with freshplucked seaweed, andbrought to a boil...mind they don't crawl out, there! Ahh, cold Reisling and a fat lobster claw. Who could ask for more? (Sings, cheerily, waving his wineglass over the granite shore): Hey ho! Roll and go!
At Bath down in Maine they built many tall ships |
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15 Feb 00 - 01:03 PM (#178813) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: MMario I'm sorry - did you want the oysters steamed? I did them up on the half shell. There's lobsters and mussels and quahogs and crabs, steamers and corn and 'taters and onions and sausage in the pit. Scallop chowder is setting over coals, simmerin' down a bit so will be good and thick. A whelk salad is in that bowl over THERE, and periwinkle broth in that pot THERE. |
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15 Feb 00 - 01:30 PM (#178831) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Mbo Mario, I'm known for hauling hundred-pound logs around...I think I can handle some firewood! I'll be back! --Mbo |
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15 Feb 00 - 01:39 PM (#178835) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos God and Mary, what a crew. Ihave never had so much fun or been so well stewed and fed in all my born days. Ye're a fair clutch of keepers, the lot of you! A |
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15 Feb 00 - 01:47 PM (#178840) Subject: Lyr Add: IF I WERE A BLACKBIRD From: Peg Mario; an excellent feast! We'll be sure to leave some for the wood gatherers... no mollusks for me, thanks, but I'll have that lobster tail that's just gone red...and some corn...and a potato! thanks! and some pale golden wine chilled to perfection...ahhh... (sings a brief ballad before eating) I am a young maiden, my story is sad Though I was once loved by a fine sailing lad He called me his lassie by night and by day But now he has left me and sailed far away... If I were a blackbird, could whistle and sing I'd follow the vessel my true love sails in And in the top riggin' I'd there build my nest And I'd flutter my wings o'er his lily white breast... He promised to take me to Donnybrook Fair And buy me red ribbons for to bind up my hair And when he'd return from the ocean so wide He'd take me and make me his own bonny bride... If I were a blackbird etc. My parents they slight me and will not agree That I and my sailor boy married should be But let them deprive me, let them do what they will While there's breath in my body, he's the one I love still... If I were a blackbird... |
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15 Feb 00 - 01:54 PM (#178843) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos (Breathless with admiration) That's a fair song, and well sung...and the tides coming up, and the feast is delicious. I think I'll stay here a week. Secure for harbor, boyos -- I think we've found a homeport worth tying up to for a while. A |
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15 Feb 00 - 01:55 PM (#178844) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Mbo Peg, no NO NO! This should be--I am a young sailor....but let them deprive me--ket them do what they will--while there's breath in my body she's the one I love still." Sorry--this song really means a lot to me right now... --Mbo (just ignore Mr.Grumpus..) |
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15 Feb 00 - 02:06 PM (#178853) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: MMario Anyone remember the version of blackbird that was posted here? I wanna do that version someday.... |
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15 Feb 00 - 02:07 PM (#178854) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Peg sorry, Mbo, I have been singing it this way forever...I don't quite understand your lyric changes other than the gender-based one...?? someone once told me this song was originally written for a female persona; makes sense since it was far more common for a woman to be left behind by a man who went to sea, than the other way around... peg trying to think of other songs that have women pining formen gone to sea... |
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15 Feb 00 - 02:21 PM (#178863) Subject: Lyr Add: THE MAID OF MOURNE SHORE From: Amos And I had a girl called Mary Doyle And she lived in Greenore, And the foremost thought in my mind Was to keep me safe onshore... (Drops poor abused banjo on a stone to wait while he guzzles Resiling and cracks a claw)...(Resumes)... Last night I went to see my love, to hear what she would say;
'Perhaps your sailor may be lost when crossing o'er the main,
Farewell now to Lord Edmund's groves, likewise the Bleaching Green,
Our ship she lies off Warren's Point, just ready to set sail, |
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15 Feb 00 - 02:32 PM (#178870) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha OH MY GOD! I'M STUFFED! All the lobster I can eat! And thank'ee kindly for the bannock praise. I'll whip up some Chocolate Pudding Cake for dessert. |
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15 Feb 00 - 02:51 PM (#178880) Subject: Lyr Add: MY JOHNNY WAS A SHOEMAKER From: Peg The auburn lassie nods to the captain (grounded indefinitely with his crew but seemingly no worse for it)...a lovely song, Amos...and pats her stomach full of fine fare and wonders if she can manage a song...oh my, did someone say chocolate? Maybe later! It goes nicely with cognac after dark... My Johnny was a shoemaker and dearly he loved me, My Johnny was a shoemaker but now he's gone to sea, With pitch and tar to soil his hands, And sail across the briny sea, My Johnny was a shoemaker and dearly he loved me... His jacket was deep sky blue and curly was his hair, His jacket was deep sky blue and curly was his hair, For to reeve the sails up across the mast, And sail across the stormy sea, My Johnny was a shoemaker and dearly he loved me... One day he'll be a captain bold with a brave and a gallant crew, One day he'll be a captain bold with a sword and spyglass, too, And when he gets a ship of his own, He'll come home and marry me, My Johnny was a shoemaker and dearly he loved me... (The auburn lassie finishes the song and returns to a silver goblet of Riesling...still cold! toasts her friends and retires to a tuft of sea grass, tilting her face to the afternoon sun) |
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15 Feb 00 - 02:59 PM (#178886) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll 'Tis now we remember, when revelry's o'er The songs and the tunes that we've played by the score The day that is ending, 'twill come back no more As the first star of evening is twinkling. As we sit by the fire with glasses in hand We think of the friends and the fellowship grand Of the time we have spent where the sea meets the land, And the ocean goes rolling forever. The night is swift falling. Our moment is passed. Each lass to her lad and each lad to his lass And we'll pray that this parting will not be the last For we'll meet in our dreams here forever. troll |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:14 PM (#178893) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: MMario AWWWW......*wipes tear from his eye* not that I want the day to be ending, but that was beautiful.... |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:21 PM (#178896) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Double awwwww... but I thought it was still the forenoon watch. See what happens when the quartermasters go over the side? Y'lose all sense of order! (g>. Is breakfast over and the lobster lunch? If so we still have a long sunny afternoon to wander on the shore, admiring the waves. Who knows but event he Gaelic Goddess herself might drop by for a draft of this nectar! A |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:21 PM (#178897) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll Thankee MM. troll |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:23 PM (#178900) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll Thankee MM. Dave, thankee for the thread. I haven't been this inspired to write in a long long time. Maybe the drought is finally over. troll |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:27 PM (#178903) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Peg troll; are all those songs/poems yours? or are some traditional? it is hard to tell...but i do want to say how much i have been enjoying them! peg (lifts her goblet in tribute and drinks to one of many fine artists here) |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:29 PM (#178905) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos I second that! DaveTAM, this is the best thread since the Tavern! Maybe even the Jukebox! Thanks, mate. A |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:45 PM (#178916) Subject: Lyr Add: BEACH COTTAGE WALTZ (Bob Clayton) From: Songster Bob Up from the beach comes an older man, guitar in a shoulder bag, puffing from the rowing he's had to do (tide's out and he rowed the length of the causeway, cursing all the way). After getting his bearings and a belt or two, he opens the guitar case and invites the fiddlers to join him (Key of D, 3/4 time, and watch the modal change in that repeating line at the end of each stanza -- that penultimate line). BEACH COTTAGE WALTZ Hush, hush, don't you hear it, The soothing surf sound of the sea? Down by the beach in the moonlight Is the place that I'd rather be, be, Is the place that I'd rather be. Chorus: And still, it's a wonderful place to be, In that little house by the edge of the sea. The sea and the sand, the breeze and the foam, 'Round my little beach cottage home, home, 'Round my little beach cottage home. Old, old is the water, Endlessly moving, the tide. The bright moon hangs high like a painting, As the earth takes us all for a ride, ride, As the earth takes us all for a ride. Chorus: The sun and the sand in the summer, The flight of the goose in the fall, The drear, icy wind in the winter Are the signs of time's endless call, call, Are the signs of time's endless call. Chorus: So, hush, hush, don't you hear it, The soothing surf sound of the sea? The ocean goes rolling forever Without taking notice of me, me, Without taking notice of me. Chorus: After the song dies down, he asks, "That fresh bread done yet? And where's more rum?" For the few who don't know him, or who wonder who wrote the song, he says, "Bob Clayton." Then he settles back with his guitar, to accompany as many of the other songs as he can follow, occasionally resorting to harmonica or banjo (the case was at least a double-case; maybe the mandolin's in there, too).
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15 Feb 00 - 03:47 PM (#178917) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Bert Now Mmario, You can't just give us the first line of a song. You've got to finish it. There's lobsters and mussels and quahogs and crabs... |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:54 PM (#178921) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Crowhugger Has anyone seen my woolen sock? I had it off down at the shore to dust the rosin off my cello and give my toes a salty tickle. |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:54 PM (#178922) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Hohrrah, Sailor Bob! that gets it said in first-rate style, methinks. Fer that the midshipmites can roll you up that spare quarter-cask of molasses in the hold. 'Cuz it isn't molasses but something much finer, which our fine host calls Napoleon's Blude. Dunno about bleeding Frogs but it's first rate dark, and I would be proud to offer as much as you'd like. Fine music,and thanks. |
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15 Feb 00 - 03:54 PM (#178923) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Thanks for the Bouquet guys You get around to dancing with the ladies and you can count me in.. Just get me Rubber Boots on and I'll try not to cripple any tonight... Some dancing songs mates keep the spirit flowing |
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15 Feb 00 - 04:00 PM (#178929) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: MMario Troll, if those are yours, can we use them? especially that parting poem? huh? Huh? can I? Huh? |
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15 Feb 00 - 04:03 PM (#178933) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: MMario Bert - I was reading the menu. But feel free to compose an ode to Shellfish if you desire. |
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15 Feb 00 - 04:36 PM (#178947) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Willie-O Christ on a tugboat, I spent half an hour writin an entry and it disappeared into the aether. In brief. Guy shows up in his weatherbeaten kayak, straight from neighbouring Grand Manan Isle, stocked with rum and scotch to settle a debt, ginger ale for his own cheap thrills, and of course dulse. (Dark Harbour Purple) The booze is handed to Amos and MMario, the entrants in Willie-O's Song Challenge, and the dulse is offered to anyone who cares to enjoy this local delicacy! W-O--looking for some chowder. |
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15 Feb 00 - 06:21 PM (#178964) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: wysiwyg Crowhugger me mate, Your sock was last seen doing its duty to keep the lady sailor from bearing a bairn at sea, according to the old Mudcat lore tucked away safe amongst the threads of the ships' riggin'. She had no choice as no one left her any sliced lemons to use in the old fashioned way. We'd have saved her the trouble if she'd but told us her assignation was with the baker of the bannocks! Ye'll be needin' a new sock then unless ye're a salty sort yersel'... 'Ar! |
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15 Feb 00 - 06:27 PM (#178971) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha 'SCUSE ME? I kinda sorta thought I baked the bannocks, and I may not be exactly a Lady, but I checked this morning and I is still female. Now Mbo, he gathered them blackberries--what was he up to in them brambles? (This island's gettin a little crowded--there's over a hunnert of us here now, maybe we need a bigger island? |
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15 Feb 00 - 07:44 PM (#179035) Subject: Lyr Add: I'M YOUR CAPTAIN (from Grand Funk Railroa From: Mbo I assure you, there was nothing going on in them bushes except blackberry picking! Crowhugger (lad?/lass?) bring that big beautiful cello over here. I love cellos...And it would sound great on one o' my favorite songs: Everybody, listen to me And return me my ship I'm your captain, I'm your captain Though I'm feeling mighty sick I've been lost now, days uncounted And it's been months since I've seen home Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Poor am I, all alone If you return me to my home port I will kiss you mother earth Take me back now, take me back now To the port of my birth Am I in my cabin dreaming Or are you really scheming To take my ship away from me? You better think about it I just can't live without it So please don't take my ship from me I can feel the hand of a stranger And it's tied me around my throat Heaven help me, heaven help me Take this stranger off my boat I'm your captain, I'm your captain Though I'm feeling mighty sick Everybody, listen to me And return me me ship I'm your captain, yeah, yeah yeah I'm getting closer to my home.... C'mon everyone! Sing along! "I'm getting closer to my home..." --Mbo |
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15 Feb 00 - 07:49 PM (#179037) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: wysiwyg Weel, lads n lassies, 'twas said the bannocks had baked on hot rocks, and there would be yer baker, ar! Give credit where it's due, now! Settin' 'em to cook would be brave indeed but not as brave as.... |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:02 PM (#179043) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha She was doing WHAT with hot rocks? or is that HOTROCKS? |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:13 PM (#179050) Subject: Lyr Add: THE WRAGGLE-TAGGLE GYPSIES From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Wow the Island is really crowded, reminds me of the Gypsy encampments.. Ah I know a song fer ye... THE WRAGGLE-TAGGLE GYPSIES There were three gypsies a come to my door, And down stairs ran this a-lady, O. One sang high and another sang low And the other sang bonny bonny Biscay O Then she pulled off her silk finished gown, And put on hose of leather, O The ragged ragged rags about our door And she's gone with the wraggle, taggle gypsies O It was late last night when my lord came home, Inquiring for his a-lady O The servants said on every hand She's gone with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O O saddle to me my milk-white steed And go and fetch me my pony, O That I may ride and seek my bride, Who's gone with the wraggle-taggle gypsies O O he rode high, and he rode low He rode through wood and copses too, Until he came to a wide open field, And there he espied his a-lady O What makes you leave you house and land? What makes you leave you money, O? What makes you leave you new-wedded lord, To follow the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O. What care I for my house and land? What care I for my money,O? What care I for my new-wedded lord, I'm off with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O! "Last night you slept on a goosefeather bed, With the sheet turned down so bravely, O. Tonight you'll sleep in a cold open field, Along with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O." "What care I for a goose-feather bed, With the sheet turned down so bravely, O. For tonight I'll sleet in a cold open field, Along with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O. The Sun is setting. The ancient mariner has arranged a special presentation for the campers tonight.. Everyone is to charge their glasses with a favourite beverage. (the half empty bottle of Black Bush in his hand) and toast down the sun... I have asked the Laird of the Isle Mbo to play a lament..shush now and listen as the last rays of the golden sun slip slowly into the horisons edge a peace descends on the island. A Highlander in full regalia marches slowly over the hill with his pipes playing a lovely lament. Which as the red sun dips will end as an echo as the night begins....Play Mbo Play... |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:14 PM (#179051) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Crowhugger Well, 'tis an isle deserving of the lightest step. Another wooly sock is tossed heav'nward, tempting the gulls into many winged collision, yet not an injury to be had. The shy gal watches, filling with contentment, as the sock is snatched by an updraft and away. The sky is a colour she cannot say for there is no word she knows to match it. She knows there is no place closer to home than here. And she bows a clear voice with Mbo. |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:17 PM (#179053) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: JenEllen *Staggering over the dunes comes a wee tired sprite, cursing under her breath and dragging enough sand in the cuffs of her jeans to make another island* Ah Suze, good to see you again. Chuck me a bannock before the sailors clean us out? Ta.. Amos, any of the Reisling left? Trade you a song for a glass... *pulls out guitar with crappy gore-tex strings and shrugs the strap over her sunburned shoulders*
Here I stand Dave, got a warm spot for a gal to curl up for a bit? The lobster and wine has done me in. Got to rest up for the dancing!
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15 Feb 00 - 08:19 PM (#179054) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Steady with those ball-bearings, Mr Queeg. Mbo, if ye're out of sorts from all that baking (as I can well imagine) just find yoursel' a hammock rolled up for'd in the focs'le, pop the stops off it and wrap up for a rest. If te ask nicely I think CLeigh has a hosepipe to cool those hot rocks. Hey, on ye're way throw that damn sock overboard someone left on the quarterdeck! I see a green-clad red-headed Goddess down yonder on the strand, And i hear a fiddle dancing high, and she's hold out a hand So on this blessed salted rock, a second night we'll stay While the crew cavorts, and the ship awaits, and I dance the night away! He crosses the tidelines to a greenish glow which gradually crystallizes in the evening shore breeze into the ineffably lovely form of TGG, fresh from punishing unbelievers on hockety rinks all across the west and banishing them to the Ice Capades for eternity. The fiddleis playing a high mournful air in waltz time and the Skipper and the Gaelic goddess waltz merrily along the tideline, splashing in the quiet Atlantic surf as the moon rises slow and the clouds retire, leaving the sky ablaze with the sparkle of ten thousand summer jewels touched with the Moon's own blessings...and another night of madcap Mudcat merriment unfolds. |
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15 Feb 00 - 08:42 PM (#179063) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Room has been reserved for ye on my knee anytime love. |
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15 Feb 00 - 09:23 PM (#179089) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos God love ye, Davey lad, take right care of thar coaxsome elf and defend her as yer own! I've never seen a finer crowd, a fine land, a finer night in all my days on sea or ashore. Well, you've done it just right, and that's a fact...thank you for making more joy than you found in the world. (Waltzes off down the tideline with TGG, splashing into the dim shadows) |
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15 Feb 00 - 09:42 PM (#179101) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Crowhugger Might it be time for a new thread to weave a new magical night on the cusp of the sea? |
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15 Feb 00 - 09:56 PM (#179109) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Now all hands aft go forrard! Now all hands forrard, go aft! Now all hands 'midship, ready about and stand by to direct traffic, For the thread goes on here, lads! |
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15 Feb 00 - 10:02 PM (#179115) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Mbo Well, it's not really a lament...more of a lullaby, but it's sad. It's called "Dean Cadalan Samhach," and it was written by a Scottish immigrant to North Carolina, not far, actually from where my folks live (about 60 miles away from where I am) It's all about missing Scotland. I'll follow it up with "O Tha Mise Fro Ghruiaman." Oh, and shy girl Crowhugger, if'n you want a corbie to hug, you can have me. Pipers get uncommonly good at squeezing. --Mbo |
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15 Feb 00 - 10:23 PM (#179127) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll The poems are mine. Sure MM anytime. If I don't copyright 'em they'er there for anyone that wants to use 'em. troll |
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16 Feb 00 - 11:02 AM (#179374) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: kendall Wanna know how to piss off a lobster? |
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16 Feb 00 - 11:05 AM (#179376) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: kendall For you in the UK, that should read..how to upset a lobster? Take his wife to dinner. |
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09 Feb 06 - 12:03 AM (#1664965) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: katlaughing Fun to read through this old chestnut, again! |
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09 Feb 06 - 09:58 PM (#1665690) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: wysiwyg Thanks Kat!!!! I forgot I was that funny! :~) Mbo (MattR), are you still among us? ~Susan (formerly known as Praise) |
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09 Feb 06 - 10:25 PM (#1665710) Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Alba Yes I am with Susan on this (yes Susan you were very funny..well actually you still are, well I mean you are funny when you mean to be not all the time oh forget it you know what I mean I hope gulp!) Kat Thanks for refreshing this refreshing Thread of old. It makes a change to come in and actually find fun in the BS bit instead of strapping on your emotional body armor and entering the Arena..:) I was just thinking about the Respite Tavern Thread today. There are a few names on this Thread that haven't been in for a while. Again Thanks for making me chuckle before bedtime Kat Darlin. Love and Light as always Jude |