Photograph, all faded in sepia
Look at that, there's your grandparents
And what about that crew I'll tell you a story, and maybe some more
About Derryloughan on the Gweebarra shore
There's Maeve O'Neill, she sits in an empty house
Paper sheets piled on her mantelpiece,
Letters from her sons All in America, gone to the war
None would come back to the Gweebarra shore.
Big Con the Jar
Called in to pay us his best regards
Said he'd just finished the Kinlochleven dam
In moleskins and corduroys off for the night
Away into Glenties to look for a fight
Twas hard enough just makin' a living
But if you were stuck,
Fletcher the prophet would fix your window pane
And tell of the wonders he'd seen the world o'er
And why he'd not fight in this war to end wars
And Annie Friel, she didn't think much of theology
She put it like this Ah now, that's a mighty plan
But what of that Canon who says we can't dance?
Him with his toilet brought over from France!
And the music man old Johnny would come with his pots and pans
And play with a beauty to cut your heart away
And one then another would take to the fore
And sing the old songs of the Gweebarra shore
And Maeve O'Neill still sits in the empty house
Paper sheets piled high on her mantelpiece
Letters from her sons All in America, gone to the war
Not one came back to the Gweebarra shore
In '83 I saw it all planted With forestry, the house all grown over
Now all is sad romance
Look at the photograph, see it once more
That's Derryloughan on the Gweebarra shore.
Here's a health to the King and a lasting peace
To faction an end, to wealth increase.
Come, let us drink it while we have breath,
For there's no drinking after death.
And he that will this health deny,
Down among the dead men, down among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down;
Down among the dead men let him lie!
Let charming beauty's health go round,
With whom celestial joys are found.
And may confusion yet pursue,
That selfish woman-hating crew.
And he who'd woman's health deny,
Down among the dead men, down among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down;
Down among the dead men let him lie!
In smiling Bacchus' joys I'll roll,
Deny no pleasure to my soul.
Let Bacchus' health round briskly move,
For Bacchus is a friend to Love;
And they that would this health deny,
Down among the dead men, down among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down;
Down among the dead men let him lie!
May love and wine their rights maintain,
And their united pleasures reign.
While Bacchus' treasure crowns the board,
We'll sing the joy that both afford.
And they that won't with us comply,
Down among the dead men, down among the dead men,
Down, down, down, down;
Down among the dead men let him lie!
And now to Charles, to crown our joys
Despising dull and useless toys
Whose reign may flourish lond and free
Here's health to Charles and liberty
Should any man this toast deny
Down among the dead men
Down among the dead men
Down, down, down, down
Down among the dead men let him lie
I'll tell you a story that happened to me
One day as I went down to Youghal by the sea
The sun it was bright and the day it was warm
Says I "A quiet pint wouldn't do me no harm."
I went in and I called for a bottle of stout.
Says the barman "I'm sorry, all the beer is sold out.
Try Whiskey or Paddy, 10 years in the wood."
Says I "I'll try cider - I've heard that it's good."
(ch) Oh never, oh never, oh never again
If I live to a hundred or a hundred and ten
For I fell to the ground and I couldn't get up
After drinking a quart of the Johnnie Jump Up.
After lowering the third I made straight for the yard
Where I bumped into Brophy, the big Civic Guard
"Come here to me, boy, don't you know I'm the law."
I upped with me fist and I shattered his jaw.
He fell to the ground with his knees doubled up
But it wasn't I hit him, 'twas Johnnie Jump Up.
The next thing I met down in Youghal by the sea
Was a cripple on crutches and says he to me:
"I'm afraid in my life I'll be hit by a car.
Won't you help me across to the Railwayman's Bar?"
After drinking a quart of that cider so sweet
He threw down his crutches and danced on his feet.
(ch)
I went up the Lee road a friend for to see,
And they call it the mad house in Cork by the Lee
But when I got up there the truth I do tell
They had the poor bugger locked up in the cell.
Said the guard, testing him, "Say these words if you can -
Around the rugged rock the ragged rascal ran."
"Tell them I'm not crazy, tell them I'm not mad -
It was only a sup of the bottle I had."
(ch)
A man died in the Union by the name of McNabb
They washed him and laid him outside on the slab.
And after O'Connor his measurements did take
His wife took him home to a bloody fine wake.
About 12 o'clock and the beer it was high
Til the corpse he sat up and said he with a sigh -
"I can't get to heaven, they won't let me up
'Till I bring them a quart of the Johnnie Jump Up."
(ch)
Oh it's whispered in the kitchen and it's whispered in the hall,
Lady Anne's with child among the ladies all
And they’ll never go down to the broom no more.
It's whispered by the ladies one unto the other,
King's daughter goes with child, unto her own brother.
And they'll never go down to the broom no more.
So they rode out like sister and brother,
And they hunted and they hawked in the valley together
And they'll never go down to the broom no more.
He has taken his sister to her father's deer park
With a bow and arrow slung fast across his back
And they’ll never go down to the broom no more.
Oh, it's when that you hear me give a loud cry,
Shoot an arrow from your bow, and there let me lie
And we'll never go down to the broom no more.
And when that you see that I’m lying dead,
Then you'll dig me a grave with the turf at my head
And we'll never go down to the broom no more.
Oh, it's when that he's heard her give a loud cry
a silver arrow from his bow he suddenly let fly
And they'll never go down to the broom no more
He’s dug a grave long, wide and deep,
And he's buried his sister with their child at her feet
And they'll never go down to the broom no more.
Then he has gone back to his father's hall,
There was music, there was minstrels there was dancing and all
But they'll never go down to the broom no more.
Oh Willie, oh Willie, what gives you such pain?
I’ve lost a sheath and a knife that I'll never see again
And we'll never go down to the broom no more.
There are ships of your father's sailing on the sea,
They'll bring as good a sheath and knife unto thee
But they'll never go down to the broom no more.”
There are ships of my father's sailing on the sea,
But such a sheath and a knife they’ll never bring to me
And we'll never go down to the broom no more
And it's not for the knife my tears do run
It's all for the sheath that I kept it in
And we'll never go down to the broom no more
A youth of late, who lack'd a mate
Did courting come unto her,
With cap and kiss and "Sweet mistress"
But little could he do her.
Said she, "My friend, let kissing end
Wherewith you do me smother.
And run at ring with t'other thing
A little of one with t'other.
Too much of aught is good for naught
So leave this idle kissing;
Your barren suit will yield no fruit
if t'other thing be missing.
As much as this, a man may kiss
His sister or his mother,
So run at ring with t'other thing
A little of one with t'other.
Who bids a friend unto a feast
To dine on divers dishes--
They please his mind, until he finds
Change, please, each creature wishes.
Of beak and bill I've had my fill
With measure flowing over,
He who would speed must give, with need,
A little of one with t'other.
Sharp mixed with flat, there’s mirth in that,
A low note, then a higher
When mean and base keep time and place
Such music maids desire.
All on one string doth loathing bring
Change is true music's mother
So leave my face and sound my bass!
A little of one with t'other.
No greater truth could warm the youth
The lady's breath was rosy;
He laid her down on flowery ground
To treat her with a posy.
And while in haste he clasped her waist
And did with kisses smother;
She cried "My Heaven, your sweetly given
A little of one with t'other."
And while he played, the young man strayed
First high, then low defending
Each stroke he struck so well she took
She swore that 'twas past mending.
Let swaggering boys, who think by toys
Their lovers to win over
Lip's labour save, for the maids must have
A little of one with t'other
As I went a-walking one morning in May,
To view yonder valleys and mountains so gay,
I was thinking of yon flowers soon going to decay,
That grow around you, bonny, bonny Slieve Gallion's Brae.
My name’s James McGarvey and I'd have you understand,
I come from Derrygennard and I own a farm of land;
But my rents are getting higher, and I can no longer pay,
So farewell unto you bonny, bonny Slieve Gallion's Brae.
Oft over these mountains with my dog and my gun,
I wandered these mountains for pastime and for fun,
But those days they are all over, and I must go away;
So farewell unto you bonny, bonny Slieve Gallion's Brae.
How oft in the evening and the sun in the West,
I roved hand in hand with the one I love best.
But the hopes of youth are vanished and now I'm far away,
So farewell unto you, bonny, bonny, Slieve Gallion’s Braes.
It's not for the want of employment at home,
That causes the sons of Old Ireland to roam,
Oh you tyrannising landlords - I will no longer stay
So farewell unto to you bonny bonny Slieve Gallion’s Braes
Farewell to Old Ireland, that island so green,
To the parish of Lissan and the cross of Ballinascreen,
May good fortune shine upon you while I am far away,
So farewell unto you bonny, bonny Slieve Gallion's Brae.
Now a week before Easter the morn bright and clear,
The sun it shone brightly and keen blew the air.
I went up in the forest to gather fine flowers,
But the forest won’t yield me no roses.
The roses are red the leaves they are green,
The bushes and briars are pleasant to be seen,
Where the small birds are singing and changing their notes
Down among the wild beasts in the forest.
Now the first time I saw my love she was dressed all in white,
Made my eyes run and water quite dazzled my sight,
When I thought to myself that I might have been that man
But she's left me and gone with another.
Now the next time I saw my love she was in the church stand
With a ring on her finger and a glove in her hand.
So now she’s gone from me and showed me false play,
She's gone and got tied to some other.
So dig me a grave both long, wide and deep
And strew it all over with roses so sweet,
That I might lay down there and take a long sleep
And that's the right way to forget her.
My name is McShane from the plains of Kildare
A farmer I was until the last year
Till I took a notion all on a promotion
Went over to England the harvest to share
I parted with money so blithe and so jolly
Picked up a stick for a staff in me hand
To keep myself cheery for fear I'd get weary
I sang Paddywhack as I went on my way.
I arrived at Dumbarton on a fine summers evening
Me bundle and staff I had them in me hands
There were some of them laughing and some of them chaffin'
More of them trying to stick Paddy away.
I went into a woman to ask her for lodgings
She said "Me young man, now don't look so dull!
For I will tell you where you can get lodgings
With a woman who lives next door to The Black Bull."
So I went to this woman and asked her for lodgings
She instantly showed me a bed in the room
And I being so tired and worn out from the walking
I threw myself down on the bed in that room.
But a lump of a Tinker lay up in the corner
He swore 'pon his soul sure he'd kill all was there
Says I "Me bold Tinker, give over your braggin',
I'm bold McShane from the plains of Kildare!"
But he tried for to hit me a punch in the stomach
I instantly fetched him a one in the throat
I knocked that old bugger arse over his elbow
And put down his head in an old whiskey pot.
He lay on the floor like a pig he was bleeding
I swore 'pon my soul sure I'd cut off his life
But I lifted him up, sent down for a noggin
Me and the Tinker we ended the strife.
My name is McShane from the plains of Kildare
A farmer I was until the last year
Till I took a notion all on a promotion
Went over to England the harvest to share
Pace Egging is a Lancashire tradition of decorating eggs at Easter and also incorporates a play similar to the Mummers play at Christmas. May we introduce :
Mr. David Oberlé as Lord Nelson
Mr. Brian Gulland as Lord Collingwood
Mr. David Carroll as Old Tosspot.
ch/ Here's one, two, three jolly lads all in one mind
We have come a pace-egging and we hope you'll prove kind
And we hope you'll prove kind with your eggs and strong beer
For we'll come no more nigh you until a-next year
And the first that comes in is Lord Nelson you'll see
With a bunch of blue ribbons tied round by his knee
And a star on his breast that like silver doth shine
And I hope he remembers its Pace Egging time.
And the next that comes in it is Lord Collingwood
And he fought with Lord Nelson till he shed his blood
And he's come from the sea old England to view
And he's come a Pace Egging with all of his crew.
And the last that comes in is old Tosspot you'll see
He's a valiant old man and in every degree
He's a valiant old man and he wears a pigtail
And all his delight is a-drinking strong ale
Come Ladies and Gentlemen sit by the fire
Put your hands in your pockets and give us our desire
Put your hands in your pockets and treat us alright
If you give nought we'll take nought farewell and goodnight.
O, a fair young maid went up the street
Some fresh fish for to buy
And the town clerk's fell in love with her
And followed her by and by,
“O where do you live, my bonnie lass,
I pray you tell to me?
And though the night were never so dark
I would try and come to thee.”
“My Father always locks the door
And my mother keeps the key.
And though the night were ne’er so dark,
You cannot come to me.”
Now the clerk he had a true brother
And a wily man was he,
And he has made a long ladder
With thirty steps and three.
He has made a pin but and a creel,
A creel but and a pin,
And he has gone to the chimney top
To let the town clerk in.
Now, the old wife she lay wide awake
Though late, late was the hour,
“ I'll lay my life,” said the silly old wife,
“There's a man in our daughter's bower.”
The old man he got out of bed
To see if the thing was true,
So she's taken the town clerk in her arms
Pushed him under the coverlet blue.
“What are you doing, my own daughter,
What is it that you do?”
“I'm praying on the holy book
For my silly old mummy and you.”
“Pray on, pray on, my own daughter,
And see that you do your best,
For between you and your old mother
I haven’t once got my rest.”
“O, wife, O wife, you silly old wife,
An ill death may you die.
She's got the holy book in her arms
And she's praying for you and I.”
The old wife she lay wide awake,
Not another word was said,
“I'll lay my life,” said the silly old wife,
“There's a man in our daughter's bed.”
“Get up, get up, my good old man,
And see if the thing be true.”
“Get up yourself, you silly old wife,
I'll not be bothered by you.
“Get up yourself, you silly old wife
Go with the devil by and by,
For between you and your own daughter,
I haven’t once blinked an eye.”
The old wife she got out of bed
To see if the thing be true,
But she slipped her foot and fell into the creel
And up the tower he drew.
The man that was at the chimney top,
Finding the creel was full,
He wrapped the rope his shoulder round
And up the tower he drew.
“O help me now, my good old man,
O help me now, I pray.
For he that you wished me with this night,
I fear he's taken me away.”
What I hope he's got, I hope he keeps
and never lets it go
For between yourself and your daughter dear it's time for the cock to crow
He's heist her up an he's dropped her down,
An he's let the creel down fall;
Till every rib in the old wife's back,
Played nick-knack on the wall.
O, hey the blue and the bonnie bonnie blue,
And I wish the blue right well,
And for any old wife that wakes at night,
May she get a good keach in the creel!
Here's adieu, Sweet Lovely Nancy, ten thousand times adieu.
I'm a-going around the ocean, love, in search of something new.
Come change your ring with me, dear girl, come change your ring with me,
That it might be a token of true love while I am on the sea.
When I am far upon the sea you’ll know not where I am.
Kind letters I will write to you from every foreign land.
The secrets of your heart, dear girl, are the best of my good will,
So let your body be where it might my heart will be with you still.
There's a heavy storm a-rising, see how it gathers round.
While we poor souls on the ocean wide are fighting for the Crown.
There's nothing to protect us, love, or keep us from the cold,
On the ocean wide where we must bide like jolly seamen bold.
There are Tinkers, Tailors, Shoemakers lie snoring fast asleep.
While we poor souls on the ocean wide are ploughing through the deep.
Our Officers commanded us and them we must obey,
Expecting every moment for to get cast away.
But when the wars are over there'll be peace on every shore.
We'll return to our wives and our families and the girls that we adore.
We'll call for liquor merrily, and spend our money free
And when our money it is all gone we'll boldly go to sea.