The Leaving Of Liverpool
Farewell the Princes' landing stage, River Mersey fare thee well
I am bound for California, a place I know right well
Chorus:
So fare thee well my own true love
When I return united we will be
It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me
But my darling when I think of thee
I have shipped on a Yankee sailing ship, Davy Crockett is her name
And Burgess is the Captain of her and they say that she's a floating shame
Chorus
I have sailed with Burgess once before, I think I know him right well
If a man is a sailor he can get along, if not then he's sure in Hell
Chorus
I am bound for California, by way of stormy Cape Horn
And I will write to thee a letter, my love, when I am homeward bound
Chorus
Farewell to lower Frederick Street, Anson Terrace and Park Lane
I am bound away for to leave you, and I'll never see you again
Chorus
Chorus
The Liar
(words—Tommy Makem)
I was born about ten thousand years ago
In Bellmullet in the County of Mayo
It was me that chased the vermin, while St. Patrick preached the sermon
And I'll whoop the man that says it isn't so
Chorus:
Singing rightful too-ra-laddie too-ra-lee
There is no one who can tell a lie like me
You can search until you tire, you won't find a bigger liar
I've been lying since the dawn of history
I saw Eve go pickin' apples off a tree
She came over and she offered one to me
I turned and said, "Dear madam, go try your luck with Adam
I'm going home to have some fish and chips and tea."
I saw Delilah cuttin' Samson's hair
She snipped away until his head was bare
When he couldn't run away, she married him next day
And they opened a barber shop in Clare
With King Billy at the Boyne I heard them call
On his followers to follow till they fall
Then he said, "We'll win quite easy, and we'll canonize, young Paisley."
Then he up and sang a verse of Derry's Walls
In was back in sixty-two in Donoghue's
I was singing there with Luke and Ronnie Drew
Luke sez, 'Nick your singing's grand, so let's form a ballad band
And a great big hairy beard I went and grew
Oh I'd like ride your sister's motor bike I'd like ride your sister's motor bike
I'd like ride your sister, I'd like ride your sister I'd like ride your sister's motor bike
Would you like to ride on Johnson's Motor Car
would you like to ride on Johnson's Motor Car
Would you like to ride on Johnson, would you like to ride on Johnson
Would you like to ride on Johnson's Motor Car
It was during World War II I met them all
There was Roosevelt and Churchill and De Gaulle
Then one day I nearly fainted, I was having my house painted
There was Hitler hanging paper in the hall
Limerick Rake
I am a young fellow that's easy and bold. in Castletown Conners I'm very well known.
In Newcastle West I spent many a note, with Kitty and Judy and Mary.
My father rebuked me for being such a rake. And spending my time in such frolicsome ways.
But I ne'er could forget the good nature of Jane, Agús fagaimid siúd mar atá sé.
My parents had reared me to shake and to mow, To plough and to harrow, to reap and to sow,
But my heart being airy to drop it so low I set out on high speculation.
On paper and parchment they taught me to write,
In Euclid and Grammar they opened my eyes,
And in Multiplication in truth I was bright, Agús fagaimid siúd mar atá sé.
If I chance for to go to the town of Rathkeal, the girls all round me do flock on the square,
Some give me a bottle and others sweet cakes, To treat me unknown to their parents,
There is one from Askeaton and one from the Pike, Another from Arda, my heart was beguiled,
Tho' being from the mountains her stockings are white, Agús fagaimid siúd mar atá sé.
To quarrel for riches I ne'er was inclined. For the greatest of misers must leave them behind.
I'll purchase a cow that will never run dry, And I'll milk her by twisting her horn.
John Damer of Shronel had plenty of gold, And Devonshire's treasure is twenty times more,
But he's laid on his back among nettles and stones, Agús fagaimid siúd mar atá sé.
This cow can be milked without clover or grass, For she's pampered with corn, good barley and hops
She's warm and stout, and she's free in her paps, And she'll milk without spancel or halter.
The man that will drink it will cock his caubeen, And if anyone coughs there'll be wigs on the green,
And the feeble old hag will get supple and free, Agús fagaimid siúd mar atá sé.
If I chance for to go to the market at Croom, With a cock in my hand and my pipes in full tune,
I am welcome at once and brought up to a room, where Bacchus is sporting with Venus.
There's Peggy and Jane from the town of Bruree, And Biddy from Bruff and we all on the spree,
Such a combing of locks as there was about me, Agús fagaimid siúd mar atá sé.
There's some say I'm foolish and more say I'm wise, But being fond of the women I think is no crime,
For the son of King David had ten hundred wives, And his wisdom was highly recorded.
I'll take a good garden and live at my ease, and each woman and child can partake of the same,
If there's war in the cabin, themselves they may blame, Agús fagaimid siúd mar atá sé.
And now for the future I mean to be wise, And I'll send for the women that acted so king,
And I'll marry them all on the morrow by and by, If the clergy agree to the bargain.
And when I'm on my back and my soul is at peace, These women will crowd for to cry at my wake,
And their sons and their daughters will offer their prayer, To the Lord for the soul of their father
The Little Beggarman
I am a little beggarman, a begging I have been
For three score years in this little isle of green
Up to the Liffey down to Tessague
I 'm known by the name of Johnny Dhu
Of all the trades a going, sure the begging is the best
For when a man is tired he can sit him down and rest
He can beg for his dinner, he has nothing else to do
But to slip around the corner with his old rigadoo
Chorus:
Didddle-le-Idle-Deedle-Idle-Deedle-Idle-Dum
Idle-Deedle-Idle-Deedle-Idle-Deedle-Idle-Dum
A-Deedle-Idle-Deedle-Idle-Deedle-Idle-Dum
Idle-Deedle-Idle-Deedle-A-Deedle-Idle-Dum
I slept in a barn one night in Currabawn
A wet night came on and I slept until the dawn
There was holes in the roof and the raindrops coming through
And the rats and the cats were a playing peek a boo
Who did I waken but the woman of the house
With her white spotted apron and her calico blouse
She began to frighten and I said boo
Sure, don't be afraid at all, it's only Johnny Dhu
I met a little flaxen haired girl one day
Good morning little flaxen haired girl, I did say
Good morning little beggarman and how do you do
With your rags and your tags and your auld rigadoo
I'll buy a pair of leggins and a collar and a tie
And a nice young lady I'll go courting by and by
I'll buy a pair of goggles and I'll colour them with blue
And an old fashioned lady I will make her too
So all along the high road with my bag upon my back
Over the fields with my great heavy sack
With holes in my shoes and my toes a peeping through
Singing, skin a ma rink a doodle with my auld rigadoo
O I must be going to bed for it's getting late at night
The fire is all raked and now 'tis out of light
For now you've heard the story of my auld rigadoo
So good night and God be with you, from auld Johnny Dhu
So good night and God be with you, from auld Johnny Dhu
Liverpool Lou
(Dominic Behan)
Chorus:
Oh Liverpool Lou, lovely Liverpool Lou
Why don't you behave, love, like the other girls do?
Why must my poor heart be following you
Stay home and love me, my Liverpool Lou
When I go a-walking, I hear people talking
Schoolchildren playing, I know what they're saying
They're saying you'll grieve me, that you will deceive me
Some morning you'll leave me all packed up and gone
Chorus:
Oh Liverpool Lou, lovely Liverpool Lou
Why don't you behave, love, like the other girls do?
Why must my poor heart be following you
Stay home and love me, my Liverpool Lou
The sound from the river keep telling me ever
That I should forget you like I'd never met you
Tell me their song, love, was never more wrong love
Say I belong love to my Liverpool Lou
Chorus:
Oh Liverpool Lou, lovely Liverpool Lou
Why don't you behave, love, like the other girls do?
Why must my poor heart be following you
Stay home and love me, my Liverpool Lou
Lord Of The Dance
(Sydney Carter)
I danced in the morning when the world was begun
I danced in the moon, the stars and the sun
I danced down from Heaven and I danced on Earth
At Bethlehem I had my birth
Chorus:
Dance, then, wherever you may be
I am the Lord of the Dance, said He
And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be
And I'll lead you all in the dance, said He
I danced for the scribe and the Pharisee
They would not dance; they would not follow me
So I danced for the fisherman, for James and John
They came with me and the dance went on
I danced on the Sabbath and I cured the lame
They holy people said it was a shame
So they whipped, they stripped, they hung me high
And they left me on the cross to die
I danced on a Friday, when the sky turned black
Its hard to dance with the Devil on your back
Oh they buried my body, they thought I'd gone
But I and the dance still go on
They cut me down, but I lept on high
I am the light that will never, never die
But I'll live in you if you'll live in Me
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he
The Lowlands Low
(Words, P.J. McCall; tune, trad.)
We sailed out of Dunmore, Michelmas gone by
Cowhides and wool and live cargo Twenty young wild geese
Ready fledged to fly Sailing for the Lowlands Low
Chorus:
The lowlands low, the lowlands low
Sailing for the lowlands low
Shaun Paor's the skipper From the church of Crook
Peary keeps log for his father Crew all from Bannow
Fethard and the Hook Sailing for the Lowlands low
These twenty wild geese Gave Queen Anne the slip
Crossing to Louis in Flanders He and Jack Malbrook
Both are in a grip Fighting in the Lowlands Low
Close lay a rover Off the Isle of Wight
Either a Salee or Saxon! Out through the sea mist
We bade them goodnight Sailing for the Lowlands Low
Ready with priming, We'd our galliot gun
Muskets and pikes in good order We should be riddled,
Captives would be none Death! or else the Lowlands low
Pray Holy Brendan, Turk nor Algerine
Dutchman nor Saxon may sink us! We'll bring Geneva,
Sack and Rhenish wines Safely from the lowlands low