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1. |
Rocky Road to Dublin
03:32
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In the merry month of June, from me home I started
Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken hearted
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother
Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born
Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins
A brand new pair of brogues to rattle o'er the bogs
And fright'ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary
Started by daylight next morning blithe and early
Took a drop of the pure to keep me heart from sinking
That's the Paddy's cure whenever he's up for drinking
See the lassies smile, laughing all the while
At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'
Asked me was I hired, wages I required
I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity
To be soon deprived a view of that fine city
So then I took a stroll, all among the quality
Bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality
Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'
Inquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah
From there I got away, me spirits never failing
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing
Captain at me roared, said that no room had he
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy
Down among the pigs, played some hearty rigs
Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling
When off Holyhead, I wished meself was dead
Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah
The boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing
Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing
"Hurrah me soul" says I, me Shillelagh I let fly
Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in
With a load "Hurray" joined in the affray
We quickly cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
And all the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah
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2. |
Drink Between Friends
03:44
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Come and join me my friends, take a seat by the fire
Fill your glasses with whiskey, and stay for awhile
And if you're of a humor to be entertained
Well I'll sing you a song, you'll join the refrain
Here's a health to history, and one to memory
And here's to the point where all memory ends
On the last drop, raise your glass, chase it up
For there's nothing so fine as a drink between friends
Here's a health to the loves and the lusts of young life
We'll drink one to McGregor and twice to his wife
Here's a health to the pleasures and pains of the year
If you drink to one to sorrow drink two to good cheer
Here's a health to history, and one to memory
And here's to the point where all memory ends
On the last drop, raise your glass, chase it up
For there's nothing so fine as a drink between friends
Here's a health to the boots that have brought me thus far
A health to the guidance of the bright evening star
Here's a health to the mists and the moon's centered wreath
And to all of the lassie's I've loved underneath
And a health to history, and one to memory
And here's to the point where all memory ends
On the last drop, raise your glass, chase it up
For there's nothing so fine as a drink between friends
Here's a health to the brewer, and one to her mead
A health to the barley, the hops, and the seed
Here's a health to the French, their clothes are so fine
They may dress like sissies, but make a mean wine
And a health to history, and one to memory
And here's to the point where all memory ends
On the last drop, raise your glass, chase it up
For there's nothing so fine as a drink between friends
Here's a health to the dusts, the road, and the wind
A health to the whiskey, and the jar it came in
Here's a health to the present, the future, and past
For we're all here together, so come one raise your glass
In a health to history, and one to memory
And here's to the point where all memory ends
On the last drop, raise your glass, chase it up
For there's nothing so fine as a drink between friends
Here's to strong German brewers, and Irish Poitín
To stout Scottish whiskey, and weak English Gin
Here's a health to the French wine, I've mentioned before
And to Bourbon and Brandy, true gifts of the Lord
And a health to history, and one to memory
And here's to the point where all memory ends
On the last drop, raise your glass, chase it up
For there's nothing so fine as a drink between friends
Here's a health to history, and one to memory
And here's to the point where all memory ends
On the last drop, raise your glass, chase it up
For there's nothing so fine as a drink between friends
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3. |
Danny Boy
01:56
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Oh Danny Boy the pints the pints are calling
From pub to pub, and down to old Speyside
The ale has gone, and all the whiskey's fallen
Tis you tis you must go while I imbibe.
But come ye back when all the scotch has mellowed
And when the beer is cold and white with foam
Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
And you shall find me here until I stagger home.
But should you come and find my glass right empty
And I'm not drunk as drunk I ought to be
Please come and find a seat right here beside me
And I should hope you'd spare a pint, or three
And I will drink this pint which you have bought me
And raise a glass on high to toast your fame
For it is known this truth which you have taught me
Sometimes you want to go where everyone knows your name
Cheers
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4. |
Crúiscín Lán
03:14
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Let the farmer praise his grounds,
Let the huntsman praise his hounds,
Let the shepherd praise his dewy scented lawn;
Oh, but I, more wise than they,
Spend each happy night and day
With my darling little crúiscín lán, lán, lán,
With my darling little crúiscín lán!
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín,
Sláinte geal mo mhúirnín.
Grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán, lán, lán,
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán.
Immortal and divine,
King Bacchus, god of wine,
Create me by adoption your own son;
In the hopes that you'll comply,
That me glass will ne'er run dry.
Nor my darling little crúiscín lán, lán, lán,
Oh, my darling little crúiscín lán!
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín,
Sláinte geal mo mhúirnín.
Grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán, lán, lán,
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán.
And when grim death appears,
In a few but happy years,
And says, “Oh, won't you come along with me?”
I'll say, “Begone, ye knave,
For King Bacchus gave me leave
To fill another crúiscín lán, lán, lán,
To fill another crúiscín lán!”
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín,
Sláinte geal mo mhúirnín.
Grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán, lán, lán,
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán.
So let's lift our glasses high,
Let's not part with lips so dry,
For the lark now proclaims it is the dawn;
And since we can't remain,
May we shortly meet again,
To share another crúiscín lán, lán, lán,
To share another crúiscín lán!
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín,
Sláinte geal mo mhúirnín.
Grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán, lán, lán,
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán.
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín,
Sláinte geal mo mhúirnín.
Grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán, lán, lán,
O grádh mo chroidhe mo crúiscín lán.
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5. |
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He was stranded in a tiny town on Fair Prince Edward's Island
Waiting for a ship to come and find him
A one horse place, a friendly face
Some coffee and a tiny trace of fiddling in the distance far behind him
A dime across the counter there, a shy hello, a brand new friend
And a walk along the street in wintry weather
A yellow light, and open door
A welcome friend there's room for more
And then they're standing there inside together
He said, "I've heard that tune before somewhere
But I can't remember when
Was it on some other friendly shore, or did I hear it on the wind?
Was it written on the sky above, think I heard it from someone I loved
I never heard a sound so sweet since then."
And now his feet begin to tap, a little boy says, "I'll take your hat"
And he's caught up in the magic of her smile
Leap, the heart inside him went, and off across the floor he sent
His clumsy body graceful as a child
He said, "There's magic in the fiddler's arm, and there's magic in this town
There's magic in the dancers' feet and the way they put them down
People smiling everywhere, boots and ribbons, locks of hair
And laughter and old blue suits and Easter gowns
Now the sailor's gone, the room is bare, the old piano's sitting there
Someone's hat's left hanging on the rack
Empty chairs and the wooden floor, that feels the touch of shoes no more
A waiting for the dancers to come back
The fiddle's in the closet of some daughter of the town
The strings are broke, the bow is gone, and the cover's buttoned down
But sometimes on December nights, when the air is cold and the wind is right
There's a melody that passes through the town
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6. |
The Bodhrán Song
03:40
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I am a year-old kid
I’m worth scarcely fifteen quid
I’m the kind of beast
You might well look down on
But my value will increase
At the time of my decease
For when I grow up
I’m going to be a bodhrán
If you kill me for my meat
You won’t find me sweet
Your pallet I’m afraid
I’ll soon turn sour on
But if you do me in
For the sake of my thick skin
You’ll find I make
A dandy little bodhrán
Now my parents Bill and Nan
They do not approve my plan
To become a yoke
For every yob to pound on
But I would sooner scamper
With a bang than with a whimper
And achieve reincarnation
As a bodhrán
I look forward to the day
When I leave off eating hay
And become a drum
To entertain the crowd on
And I’ll make my presence felt
With each well delivered belt
As a fully qualified
And licensed bodhrán
For tis when I’m killed and cured
My career will be assured
And I’ll be a skin
You’ll see no scum nor scour on
But with studs around my rim
I’ll be sound in wind and limb
And I’ll make a handy dandy
Little bodhrán
Oh my heart with joy expands
When I dream of far off lands
And consider all the streets
That I will sound on
And I pity my poor Ma
Who has never seen a fleadh
Or indulged in foreign travel
As a bodhrán
For a hornpipe or a reel
A dead donkey has no feel
Or a horse, a cow, or a sheep
With it’s shroud on
And you can’t join a jig
If you’re a former grade A pig
But you can wallop out the lot
If you’re a bodhrán
So if e’er you’re feeling low
To a session you should go
And take me there
To exercise an hour on
you can strike a mighty thump
On my belly, back, or rump
But I’ll thank you if you’ll wait
Till I’m a bodhrán
Now a cat’s lives they are nine
But they’re not very fine
And a dog might become
A bow wow wow rán!
But tis when you are a goat
You can strike a merry note
Just as long as you become
An Irish bodhrán
For when I dedicate my hide
I’ll enhance the family pride
And tradition is a thing
I won’t fall down on
For I’ll bear a few young bucks
Who’ll inherit my good looks
And be proud to say their father
Is a bodhrán
Now I think you’ve had enough
Of this rubbishy oul stuff
So I’ll put a sudden end
To my wee amhrán
And quite soon my oul bleat
Will become a steady beat
As I start my new existence
As a bodhrán
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7. |
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When the human race first started out
We had nothing to brew
Just roamin round from place to place
With bugger all to do
Until one day some rain fell into a bowl of barley grain
And since that one miraculous day
We have nay been the same
It will cure you of all your ills
And steal away your pain
That lovely elixir, the magic mixture
Of water, hops, and grains
First we start by mashing grain
Then boiling hops and pitching yeast
Those microscopic animals
The maltose munchin' beasts
It's them that turns this mixture
Into the drink we love so dear
For they take that sugary water
And transform it into beer
It will cure you of all your ills
And steal away your pain
That lovely elixir, the magic mixture
Of water, hops, and grains
Then like a scourge upon the land
The dreaded prohibition came
It touted our nation's downfall
And booze it was to blame
Our casks were smashed for all the see
Likewise our barrels drained
Till the people shouted in one voice
This joyous grand refrain
That it will cure you of all your ills
And steal away your pain
That lovely elixir, the magic mixture
Of water, hops, and grains
From the golden German lager
To the black Imperial stout
There's a beer for every lad and lass
I'll say without a doubt
For as the poet Flann O'Brien said
"Though you do the best you can
When things look blacker than the night
A pint of plain's your only man"
It will cure you of all your ills
And steal away your pain
That lovely elixir, the magic mixture
Of water, hops, and grains
Yes it will cure you of all your ills
And steal away your pain
That lovely elixir, the magic mixture
Of water, hops, and grains
YAY BEER
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8. |
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Near Banbridge town, in the County Down
One evening last July
Down a bóithrín green came a sweet cailín
And she smiled as she passed me by.
She looked so neat in her two bare feet
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair
Such a coaxing elf, I'd to shake myself
To make sure I was standing there.
From Bantry Bay down to Derry Quay
From Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the fair cailín
That I met in the County Down.
As she onward sped I shook my head
And I gazed with a feeling queer
And I said, says I, to a passerby
"Who's your one with the nut-brown hair?"
He smiled at me, and with pride says he,
"She's the gem of old Ireland's crown.
Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann
And the star of the County Down."
From Bantry Bay down to Derry Quay
From Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the fair cailín
That I met in the County Down.
She'd a soft brown eye and
a look so sly and a smile like the rose in June
And you held each note from her lily white throat,
as she lilted lamenting tunes
At the patternin' dance I was in a trance
As she whirled with the lads of the town
And it broke my heart just to be apart
From the star of the County Down.
At the harvest fair she'll be surely there
and I'll dress my Sunday clothes
With my hat cocked right and my shoes shon bright
for a smile from the nut-brown Rose
No horse I'll yoke, or pipe I smoke,
'til the rust in my plough turn brown
And a smiling bride by my own fireside
sits the star of the County Down
From Bantry Bay down to Derry Quay
From Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the fair cailín
That I met in the County Down.
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9. |
Caledonia
03:59
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I don't know if you can see the changes that have come over me
In these last few days I've been afraid that I might drift away
So I've been telling old stories, singing songs, that make me think about where I come from
That's the reason why I seem so far away today
Let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time
Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home
But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything I've ever had
I have moved and I've kept on moving, proved the points that I needed proving
Lost the friends that I needed losing, found others on the way
I have tried and I've kept on trying, stolen dreams, yes there's no denying*
I have traveled hard sometimes with conscience flying somewhere in the wind
Let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time
Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home
But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything I've ever had
Now I'm sitting here before the fire, the empty room the forest choir
The flames that couldn't get any higher they've withered now they've gone
But I'm steady thinking, my way is clear and I know what I will do tomorrow
When the hands have shaken and the kisses flow then I will disappear
Let me tell you that I love you and I think about you all the time
Caledonia you're calling me and now I'm going home
But if I should become a stranger you know that it would make me more than sad
Caledonia's been everything I've ever had
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10. |
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Born in the middle of the afternoon
In a horsedrawn carriage on the old A5
The big twelve wheeler shook my bed
You can't stay here the policeman said
You'd better get born in some place else
So move along, get along, move along, get along
Go, move, shift
Born in the common by a building site
Where the ground was rutted by the trail of wheels
The local Christian said to me
"You'll lower the price of property"
You'd better get born in some place else
So move along, get along, move along, get along
Go, move, shift
Mary Joyce was living at the side of the road
No halting place and no fixed abode.
The vigilantes came to the Darndale site
And they shot her son in the middle of the night.
Sayin' you'd better get born in some place else
So move along, get along, move along, get along
Go, move, shift
Six in the morning out in Inchicore
The guards came through the wagon door.
John Maughan was arrested in the cold
A travelling boy just ten years old.
Oh you'd better get born in some place else
So move along, get along, move along, get along
Go, move, shift
Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
Cause you can't take the sky from me
Take me out into the black
Tell 'em I ain't comin' back
You can burn the land, and boil the sea
But you can't take the sky from me
Wagon, tent or starship born
Last month, last year or in far off days
Born here or a thousand miles away
There's always men nearby who'll say
That you'd better get born in some place else
move along, get along, move along, get along
Go, move, shift
Yes you'd better get born in some place else
move along, get along, move along, get along
Go, move, shift
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11. |
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12. |
Northwest Passage
05:09
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Ah, for just one time
I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin
Reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Tracing one warm line
Through a land so wild and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea
Westward from the Davis Strait
'Tis there 'twas said to lie
The sea route to the Orient
For which so many died
Seeking gold and glory
Leaving weathered, broken bones
And a long-forgotten lonely cairn of stones
Ah, for just one time
I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin
Reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Tracing one warm line
Through a land so wild and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea
Three centuries thereafter
I take passage overland
In the footsteps of brave Kelso
Where his "sea of flowers" began
Watching cities rise before me
Then behind me sink again
This tardiest explorer
Driving hard across the plain
Ah, for just one time
I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin
Reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Tracing one warm line
Through a land so wild and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea
And through the night, behind the wheel
The mileage clicking west
I think upon Mackenzie
David Thompson and the rest
Who cracked the mountain ramparts
And did show a path for me
To race the roaring Fraser to the sea
Ah, for just one time
I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin
Reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Tracing one warm line
Through a land so wild and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea
How then am I so different
From the first men through this way?
Like them, I left a settled life
I threw it all away
To seek a Northwest Passage
At the call of many men
To find there but the road back home again
Ah, for just one time
I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin
Reaching for the Beaufort Sea
Tracing one warm line
Through a land so wild and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea
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13. |
Until we meet again
03:49
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The rain it drives the rover from the road where he belongs
Into the warmth of a public house, he'll trade shelter for a song
His fingers glide upon the strings, his voice so light and fair
And in that moment magic fills the air
But the sun it drives home through the clouds, sends the traveller on his way
And as he wanders to the door, he turns to all to say
We've walked these miles together, we can see our journey's end
But there is nothing that this parting breaks that our greetings cannot mend
So just put your arms around me, and embrace me as a friend
For it's not goodbye, but until we meet again
A woman waits upon the docks to greet her sailor boy
He crests the gangway of the ship, and spies his pride and joy
His life on land begins apace, as though he was ne'er away
But he knows in his heart that he can never stay
And as she walks him to the quay, he sees the tears within her eye
But before the wind it fills the sails, he whispers his reply
We've walked these miles together, we can see our journey's end
But there is nothing that this parting breaks that our greetings cannot mend
So just put your arms around me, and embrace me as a friend
For it's not goodbye, but until we meet again
I've been a constant rambler from the day that I was born
And I have come to you with windburned skin, my bootsoles tired and worn
We've shared this path a while now, you have been my faithful friend
But we must branch off before our journey's end
We will clasp our hands, and say farewell, we'll go our separate way
But with joyous heart I'll await the time, when we gather back someday
We've walked these miles together, we can see our journey's end
But there is nothing that this parting breaks that our greetings cannot mend
So just put your arms around me, and embrace me as a friend
For it's not goodbye, but until we meet again
No it's not goodbye, but until we meet again
And we will meet again
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Rovers Way
Passionate performers of traditional and original folk music from western Europe, Canada, Newfoundland, and the United States.
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