1. |
Henry My Son
06:26
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Where have you been all day, Henry my son?
Where have you been all day, my beloved one?
Away on the meadow, away on the meadow,
Make my bed I've a pain in my head, and I want to lie down.
And what did you have to eat, Henry my son?
What did you have to eat, my beloved one?
Poison beans, poison beans,
Make my bed.....
And what colour were those beans...
Green and yellow, green and yellow,
Make my bed...
What will you leave your mother?
A woollen vest.
What will you leave your father?
A watch and chain.
What will you leave your brother?
A blue suit.
What will you leave your children?
The sun and moon.
What will you leave your sweetheart?
A rope to hang her.
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2. |
Daffodil Mulligan
03:12
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I'm Daffodil Mulligan, Biddy's young girl
And the fellas all say I'm a peach and a pearl
I was born at the daffodil time of year
So they just call me Daffy, now maybe that's queer
For I'm sweet Daffodil Mulligan I am,
All my ancestors come from the Coombe,
And I'm just such another, the spit of my mother,
The lady that lives in one room down on Francis street.
Sweet Daffodil Mulligan, fresh fish!
Like the sweet Blarney roses that bloom
I am bright hale and hearty, the life of the party,
I'm Daffy the belle of the Coombe, fresh fish!
It was in that pine forest so dark and so dim,
That I first met my Jemmy so tall and so slim,
It was on an excursion the girls all looked swell,
But I took the biscuit, and Jem's heart as well.
We were married in August when Jem was on strike,
So he took me to Bray on the back of his bike,
Now the strike is all over and Jem, bless his soul,
Has settled down steadily drawing the dole.
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3. |
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Come hither my lads with your tankards of ale,
And drink to the present before life should fail
Pile each on your platter a mountain of beef,
Cos it's eating and drinking what brings us relief
So fill up your glass, for life will soon pass,
When you're dead you'll ne'er drink to your king nor your lass,
Anacreon had a red nose so they say,
But what's a red nose if you're happy and gay?
God split me I'd rather be red whilst I'm here,
Than white as a lily and dead half the year,
Come hither my miss and give us a kiss,
In Hell there's no innkeepers daughter like this.
Young Harry propped up just as straight as he's able,
Will soon lose his wig and slip under the table,
So fill up your glasses and pass them around,
Better under the table than under the ground.
So revel and chaff as ye thirstily quaff,
Under six feet of dirt it's less easy to laugh,
The fiend strike me blue I'm scarce able to walk,
And damn if I can't stand upright or talk.
Here landlord bid Betty to summon a chair,
I'll try home for a while for my wife is not there,
So lend us a hand I'm not able to stand,
But I'm gay whist I linger on top of the land.
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4. |
Father Had a Knife
01:20
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So its father had a knife, mother had a fork
Sister had a bottle and brother had the cork,
We got a cut from the knife, a dig from the fork,
A sup from the bottle and he's gone and lost the cork
So the longer we go on, the merrier we will be,
We do belong to a boozing family.
And its father had a pig, mother had a cow,
Sister had a rabbit and brother had an owl,
We got some pork from the pig, some milk from the cow,
Some sport from the rabbit and a whistle from Johnny's owl
So the longer we go on, the merrier we will be,
We do belong to a boozing family.
And its father had a lice, mother had a flea,
Sister had a cup, and brother had the tea.
We got some scratches from the jub, some bites from the flea,
A drink from the cup and he's gone and lost the tea.
So the longer we go on, the merrier we will be,
We do belong to a boozing family.
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5. |
Salonika
04:39
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My husband's in Salonika, I wonder if he's dead,
I wonder if he knows he has a kid with a poxy head?
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy
And when the war is over, what will the soldiers do?
They'll be hopping around with a leg and a half but the slackers, we'll have two
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy
And when the war is over, what will the slackers do?
We'll be all around the soldiers for the loan of a bob or two
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy
Well at first they tax the sugar, and the they tax the tea,
And then they brought conscription and took my man away
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy
They tax the pound of butter, they tax the ha'penny bun,
But still with all their taxes they can't beat the bleeding hun.
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy
And when the war is over, what will the slackers do?
For every kid in America in Dublin there’ll be two.
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy
For they takes us up the Phoeno, and lays us on the grass,
They puts us in the family way then leaves us on our ass
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy
Well there's lino in the parlour and in the kitchen too
A glass back chiffonier that we got from Dicky Glue
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy
Oh and never marry a copper, a soldier or a marine,
Politician, or a banker, ladies, keep your conscience clean
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy
My husband's in Salonika, I wonder if he's dead,
I wonder if he knows he has a kid with a poxy head?
So write away, so write away, so write away Salonika, write away my soldier boy.
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6. |
What Put the Blood
06:02
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Where have you been all the long summer's day?
Son, come tell it unto me.
I've been hunting and fowling all the long whole day
And it's mama pardon me, and it's mama pardon me...
And what put the blood on your right shoulder?
Son, come....
That is the blood of the hare I caught,
That I killed most manfully.
The blood of the hare now it could never be so red.
That is the blood of my youngest brother,
That I killed most brutally.
What came between you and your brother?
It was mostly about the cutting of a rod,
That will never grow into a tree.
Then what will you do when your father comes home?
I will put my foot on board of a ship,
And I'll sail for a foreign country.
Then what will become of your own dear wife?
I will leave her there in her grief and despair,
And she'll see no more of me.
What will you do with your two fine babes?
I'll give one to my father and the other to you mother,
For to keep yis company.
And what will you do with your two greyhounds?
I will take the straps from around their necks,
And they'll race no more for me.
What will become of your houses and your land?
I will leave them there for the birds all in the air,
There’ll be no more welcomes there for me.
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7. |
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There was an old man came over the sea,
Aye, but I'll not have him.
There was an old man came over the sea,
Came snivelling, snuffling, over on me,
With his long grey beard, with his long grey beard,
A‐shivering and shaking
My mother she told me to bid him come in
Aye...
And he giggled and dribbled all over his chin
With his long...
My mother she told me to give him a stool,
Well I gave him a stool and he sat like a fool
My mother she told me to give him some cake
And the silly old fool wriggled just like a snake
My mother she told me to pass him the sugar
And he shivvelled and shovelled it down like a bugger
My mother she told me to take him to bed
And the daft old devil nigh stood on his head
My mother told me to show him what to do
But the silly old cod couldn’t learn how to screw
My mother she told me to bid him farewell
Well I bid him farewell and I wished him in hell
There was an old man came over the sea
Came snivelling, snuffling, over on me
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8. |
The Tri-Coloured House
09:03
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Were you ever down at the tri‐coloured house, where every rose grows merry and fine
It's there you will meet with a neat bonnie lass, will you tell her she'll be a true love of mine
Will you tell her to make me a fine new shirt, where every...
Without any seams nor needlework, and its then she will be...
Oh and tell her to wash it in yon spring well...
Where water never sprung nor never fell...
And tell her to hang it on yon whitethorn...
Where there ne'er grew a thorn since Adam was born...
Will you tell her to iron it all with a millstone...
And when she has it done for to send it right home...
Where you ever down at the tricoloured house...
It's there you will meet with a neat bonny lad, will you tell him hell be a true love of mine
Will you tell him to farm an acre of land...
Between the salt water and the sea sand...
Oh and tell him to plough it all with a deer's horn...
And tell him to sew it with one grain of corn...
Will you tell him to thrash it again you castle wall...
And to let neither chaff nor corn fall...
Were you ever down at the tri‐coloured house, where every rose grows merry and fine
It's there you will meet with a neat bonnie lass, will you tell her shell be a true love of mine
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9. |
Lullaby
05:31
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10. |
Cold Days of February
08:25
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As I beside some winter's fire
Sat writing words strange and steady
Amongst my own internal choir
Came voices to my mind unready
Of those who died on either side
While friends cry o'er their bones unburied
Go sighing through the north east winds
These cold days of February
Some clerk with papers and his pen
Some banker with his poison pity
Some captain careless of his men
These fan the flames that maim the cities
And bigots in the name of Christ
By thorny paths obscure and muddy
Can fear to roam through years of cold
Bewailing how their hands are bloody
Whether they were from here or there
Their race and place I would not be heeding
The men who caused such bitterness
If hearts they have let their hearts be bleeding
Who neither for age nor the young child
Would turn the shot of the arms they carried
Go bear the guilt a weary ways
For the cold days of February
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11. |
Cold Old Fire
04:26
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We always sing, even when were losing
'Cos Dublin's drone is hard enough especially when you're down and you're boozing
We sing the Oul' Triangle and then the Tommy Ryan
'Cos all the world's a jail and we can't remember why
Why we agreed to live and lie in embers of a cold old fire nobody remembers
They hand the ashes back to me down the button factory, we're cattle at the stall
We look for signs that Dublin's heart's still beating,
That concrete and glass and peelers and mass, they haven’t stopped the people from screaming,
Being trapped by all the cameras you're inclined to stay at home,
And forget some songs were written to remind you you weren’t born
Born to live and lie and die in embers of a cold old fire nobody remembers
They hand the ashes back to me down the button factory, we're cattle at the stall
We see the cracks under the foundation,
Smouldering on the faces of the people on the drip of isolation,
We hear the sounds come streaming across the crackling air,
The broken words of swine who would tell us that we were
Born to live and lie and die in embers of a cold old fire nobody remembers
They hand the ashes back to me down the button factory, were cattle at the stall
And when did we agree to live and lie and die in embers of a cold old fire nobody remembers?
They hand the ashes back to me down the button factory, we're cattle at the stall.
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12. |
Love is Kind
10:44
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Oh love is kind to the least of men
Oíche Mhaith
Though he be but a drunken tar
Oíche Mhaith
So far from men, and the sight of land
Oíche Mhaith
Haul along, the sailor man
Oíche...
So take me to that star‐eyed maid,
For I was happy with her lain
Oh in the comfort of her bed
Let me lie until I'm dead
For love is kind to the least of men
Though he be but a drunken tar
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LANKUM Dublin, Ireland
Gritty folksongs from the heart of Dublin city.
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