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03 Jun 01 - 10:47 AM (#475685) Subject: THE BUG ABU From: RUSTYMAN Anybody help, I'm looking for the words to "The bug abu", not sure this is the correct spelling, but it is about a canal boat. and is approx 40 yrs old, if not more. The only place I have heard this sung is in Athy, Co Kildare. Thanks. |
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03 Jun 01 - 11:41 AM (#475715) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: THE BUG ABU From: GUEST,Brían The Bug-A-Boo is in James N. Healy's Irish Ballads and Songs of the Sea.If that doen't help you find it, and no one else gets to it, I'll post them tonight. Slán go fóill, Brían. |
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03 Jun 01 - 12:45 PM (#475774) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: THE BUG ABU From: Sorcha All I can find on line is something by Destiny's Child. Don't think that is what you are looking for. About MS bugs.(computer) |
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04 Jun 01 - 02:25 PM (#476112) Subject: Lyr Add: THE BUG-A-BOO (arr. James N. Healy) From: GUEST,Brían THE BUG-A-BOO Come all ye tender and faint hearted blokes And a welcome warning take by me, Until I narrate the dangers Across on the mighty sea . Sure many is the toil and trouble, me bonny boys That I've been through a-ship With the steward and the cook, me boys , Aboard of the Bug-aBoo. When first I saw the nate little craft She was in the Patrick Street Canal She looked so neat and trim, boys, Forget her shape I never shall, And the captain he wore an old straw hat, Knee britches and a body coat of blue, He cut such an elegant figure-head, me lads To ornament the Bug-a Boo. We sailed away till the break of day, And the sea ran mountains high, And the lightning roared and the thunder flashed, And wrenched the dark red sky. And the second mate he gave orders For us our sail to clew, And the captain in his cabin was smoking his dúidín Set fire to the Bug-a-Boo. When the captain foud out what he had done He loudly bawled out through the chimney pot For the helmsman to come and to put it out. But the helmsman was fast asleep, And we our sails did clew, And the fire got so far in the middle of the Terf, They couldn't save the Bug-a-Boo. We sailed away till the break of day To a latitude of forty-four. And the poor Bug-a-Boo she burnt, me boys, Until she couldn't burn anymore, And the captain he gave orders To lower away the boats and save the crew. And a thousand sods of turf, and eleven million fleas Traditional, Arr. by James N.Healy Dúidín:(Pronounced "DOO-jeen". A short stemed clay pipe. Brían. |