The D-Day Dodgers
(Words: Anonymous; compiled and edited by Hamish Henderson)
We're the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy
Always on the vino, always on the spree;
Eighth Army scroungers and their tanks,
We live in Rome, among the Yanks.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy;
We are the D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.
We landed in Salerno, a holiday with pay,
The Jerries brought the bands out to greet us on the way.
Showed us the sights and gave us tea,
We all sang songs, the beer was free
To welcome D-Day Dodgers to sunny Italy.
To welcome D-Day Dodgers to sunny Italy.
Naples and Casino were taken in our stride,
We didn't go to fight there, we went just for the ride.
Anzio and Sangro were just names,
We only went to look for dames
The artful D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.
The artful D-Day Dodgers, way out in Italy.
Dear Lady Astor, you think you're mighty hot,
Standing on the platform, talking tommyrot.
You're England's sweetheart and her pride
We think your mouth's too bleeding wide.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, in sunny Italy.
Look around the mountains, in the mud and rain,
You'll find the scattered crosses, some that have no name.
Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone,
The boys beneath them slumber on.
They are the D-Day Dodgers who stay in Italy.
They are the D-Day Dodgers who stay in Italy.
Dirty Old Town
(Ewan McColl)
I met my love by the gas works croft
I dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old town
I heard a siren from the docks
I saw a train set the night on fire
I smelled the spring on the smoky wind
Dirty old town, dirty old town
Clouds are drifting across the moon
Cats are prowling on their beat
Springs a girl from the streets at night
Dirty old town, dirty old town
I'm going to take me a good sharp ax
Shining steel tempered in the fire
I'll chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town, dirty old town
I met my love by the gas works croft
I dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old town
Dirty old town, dirty old town
Drink Up The Cider
Drink up the cider George, pass me round the jug
Drink up the cider George, thy garden's well nigh dug
There's dung all o'er thy taters and half up thy gaters
And there's still more cider in the jug
Chorus:
Drink up the cider, drink up the cider
For tonight we'll merry be
We'll knock the milk maids over and roll them in the clover
The corn's half cut and so are we
Drink up the cider George, please by goin' far
Drink up the cider George, he's gettin' quite a star
His cheeks are gettin' redder, from charter house to cheddar
And there's still more cider in the jar
Chorus
Drink up the cider George; get up off the mat
Drink up the cider George, put on thy great big hat
We're goin' to Ballyverny (sic) to see me cousin Ernie
And there's still more cider in the bath
Chorus
Drink up the cider George, get up off me chest
Drink up the cider George it's time you had a rest
There's nothing like more cider to make your smile grow wider
And there's still more cider in the West
Chorus
Chorus
The Dutchman
(Michael Smith)
The Dutchman's not the kind of man, to keep his thumb jammed in the dam
That holds his dreams in, but that's the secret only Margaret knows
When Amsterdam is golden in the morning Margaret brings him breakfast
She believes him, he thinks the tulips bloom beneath the snow
He's mad as he can be, but Margaret only sees that sometimes
Sometimes she sees her unborn children in his eyes
Chorus:
Let us go to the banks of ocean,
Where the walls rise above the Zuider Zee
Long ago I used to be a young man,
And dear Margaret remembers that for me
The Dutchman still wears wooden shoes, his cap and coat are patched with love
That Margaret sowed in, sometimes he thinks he's still in Rotterdam
He watches tugboats down canals and calls out to them,
When he thinks he knows the Captain
Till Margaret comes to take him home again, through unforgiving streets
That trip him though she holds his arm
Sometimes he thinks that he's alone and calls her name
Chorus
The windmills whirl the winter in, she winds his muffler tighter
They sit in the kitchen, some tea with whiskey keeps away the dew
He sees her for a moment, calls her name she makes his bed up
Humming some old love song, she learned when the tune was very new
He hums a line or two, they hum together in the night
The Dutchman falls asleep and Margaret blows the candle out
Chorus