Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Dawning Of The Day

1. Oh Caledonia, we are your sons
Restore us once again
From your dreams awake
And we will pledge to thee

2. We fished stormy waters when fish were a-plenty
We ploughed the wild heathland till it bloomed like a rose
We built the great ships that sailed all the oceans
We toiled underground nature's treasures exposed
We've travelled the world, we've known kings, we've known princes
Discoursed with scholars, reasoned with fools
Oh we've served with distinction all down through the ages
But still in our homeland the foreigner rules

O we'll fight for what is right and the dawning of the day
When we'll rise again to win our claim for Scottish destiny

3. We're fierce as the badger when danger is threat'ning
We've the cunning and the guile that the fox calls his own
We've the reason that guides our great streams in their coursing
We're as stubborn as the headland that stands all alone
We can laugh with the devil, no one can laugh louder
Weep with the willow when our heart's sorely pressed
We're as gently and prickly as our own downy thistle
We can work with the hardest and play with the best


4. But our land it is owned by the faceless investor
Our fish and our farming no longer our own
Our industry's ruined, our assets are squandered
Our souls are in hock and our children in pawn
It's no use in thinking it's too late for changing
No use in thinking that it's not up to you
You can teach, you can learn and to change things be willing
For you are your country and your country is you


5. Too long we have blamed the foreign oppressor
Too long we have hoped for our hero's return
We've raised all our banners in poem and in legend
We've rested on laurels that turned into thorns
To dwell on past glories at the cost of invention
Is to squander the gifts that our forefathers gave
So take strength from the past but declare your intention
To change this dear land back to Scotland the Brave


6. Oh Caledonia, we are your sons
And will again be free

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Patriot Game
words and music by Dominic Behan

Come all ye young rebels, and list while I sing,
For the love of one's country is a terrible thing.
It banishes fear with the speed of a flame,
And it makes us all part of the patriot game.

My name is O'Hanlon, and I've just turned sixteen.
My home is in Monaghan, and where I was weaned
I learned all my life cruel England's to blame,
So now I am part of the patriot game.

This Ireland of ours has too long been half free.
Six counties lie under John Bull's tyranny.
But still De Valera is greatly to blame
For shirking his part in the Patriot game.

They told me how Connolly was shot in his chair,
His wounds from the fighting all bloody and bare.
His fine body twisted, all battered and lame
They soon made me part of the patriot game.

It's nearly two years since I wandered away
With the local battalion of the bold IRA,
For I read of our heroes, and wanted the same
To play out my part in the patriot game.

I don't mind a bit if I shoot down police
They are lackeys for war never guardians of peace
And yet at deserters I'm never let aim
The rebels who sold out the patriot game

And now as I lie here, my body all holes
I think of those traitors who bargained in souls
And I wish that my rifle had given the same
To those Quislings who sold out the patriot game.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Old Dun Cow
words and music traditional

Some friends and I in a public house
Was playing a game of chance one night
When into the pub a fireman ran
His face all a chalky white.
"What's up", says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost,
Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
"Me Aunt Mariah be buggered!", says he,
"The bleedin' pub's on fire!"

And there was Brown upside down
Lappin'' up the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried
As they came knockin' on the door (clap clap)
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
And somebody shouted MacIntyre! MACINTYRE!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.

"Oh well," says Brown, "What a bit of luck.
Everybody follow me.
And it's down to the cellar
If the fire's not there
Then we'll have a grand old spree."
So we went on down after good old Brown
The booze we could not miss
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were quite pissed.

Then, Smith walked over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks (clap clap)
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on, " says Brown, "that ain't allowed
Ya cannot do that thing here.
Don't go washin' trousers in the port wine tub
When we got Guinness beer."

Then there came from the old back door
The Vicar of the local church.
And when he saw our drunken ways,
He began to scream and curse.
"Ah, you drunken sods! You heathen clods!
You've taken to a drunken spree!
You drank up all the Benedictine wine
And you didn't save a drop for me!"

And then there came a mighty crash
Half the bloody roof caved in.
We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And we nailed ourselves inside
And we sat drinking the finest Rum
Till we were bleary-eyed.

Later that night, when the fire was out
We came up from the cellar below.
Our pub was burned. Our booze was drunk.
Our heads was hanging low.
"Oh look", says Brown with a look quite queer.
Seems something raised his ire.
"Now we gotta get down to Murphy's Pub,
It closes on the hour!"

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

By the Rising of the Moon
words by J.K. Casey, music Turlough O'Carolan

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell tell me why you hurry so
Husha buachaill hush and listen and his cheeks were all a glow
I bare orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be
At the old spot by the river quite well known to you and me
One more word for signal token whistle out the marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night
Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed warning light
Murmurs rang along the valleys to the banshees lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen
High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green
Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon

'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon

Monday, September 05, 2005

Are You Sleeping Maggie

words and music by Robert Tannahill

Dark and rainy is the night,
There's no a star in a' the carry;
Lightnings gleam athwart the lift,
And the cauld winds drive wi' winter's fury.

O! are ye sleepin', Maggie?
O! are ye sleepin', Maggie?
Let me in, for loud the linn
Is roarin' o'er the warlock craigie!

Fearfu' soughs the boortree bank,
The rifted wood roars wild and drearie,
Loud the iron yett does clank,
And the cry o' howlets makes me eerie.

Aboon my breath I daurna speak
For fear I rouse your waukrife daddie;
Cauld's the blast upon my cheek, -
Arise, arise, my bonnie lady!

She op'd the door, she let him in;
He coost aside his dreepin' plaidie;
Blaw your warst, ye rain and win',
Since, Maggie, now I'm in aside ye.

Now since ye're waukin', Maggie,
Now since ye're waukin', Maggie,
What care I for howlet's cry,
For boortree bank, or warlock craigie?

Sunday, September 04, 2005

The Bridge (A Lover's Apology)
words and music by Marc Gunn

Was it something I said that made you angry with me.
Made you dig a deep river to keep you from me.
Oh, the water is rushing, come to sweep me away
'Less I die of sorrow, I will cross it today.

I would build me a bridge a hundred meters long
To see the other side of what I did wrong
Well you say you don't hate me, but I guess that I'm scared
That with a river between us, you'll no longer care.

I would build a boat, and paddle agaist all sorrow.
And if I sail down the river, then I'll be back again tomorrow.
I would face cold death, run and leap to your side.
And if I fall in the river, I'll be warmed by your sight.

I would beg your forgiveness for the pain I've fed
And I'd find the source of the river you've bled.
Then I'd close the gates of the dam I built there.
And never again will you have anything to fear.

Well I never knew that your tears ran so deep.
But when I'ved dammed those tears, I will kiss your sweet cheek.
I will hold you close 'till your tears finally cease.
And I'll sing you a lullaby to bring you peace.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Scotland the Brave
(this is the actual National anthem of Scotland. "Flower of Scotland" is the "unofficial National anthem of Scotland")

Hark when the night is falling
Hear the pipes are calling .
Loudly and proudly calling
Down thro’ the glen
There where the hills are sleeping
Now feel the blood a-leaping
High as the spirits of the old highland men

Towering in gallant frame
Scotland my mountain hame
High may your proud standards glouriously wave
Land of my high endeavour
Land ofthe shining river
Land of my heart forever
Scotland the brave

High on the misty Highlands
Out by the purple islands
Brave are the hearts that beat
Beneath Scottish skies
Wild are the winds that meet you
Staunch are the friends that greet you
Kind as the love that shines from fair maidens eyes

Towering in gallant frame etc.
Far off in sunlit places
Sad are the Scottish faces
Yearning to feel the kiss
Of sweet Scottish rain
Where tropic skies are beaming
Love sets the heart a-dreaming
Longing and dreaming for the homeland again.

Friday, September 02, 2005

The Darlin' Girl From Clare
Percy French

We were sitting on the wall upon a Sunday
To watch the girls go by
And thinkin' we'd be marrit to one one day,
When Kate Flynn caught our eye.
Oh, man, she had the makin's of a fairy
And it made each boy'o swear!
There's not one girl in the wide wide world
Like the girl from County Clare.

And every man had got the finest plan
Ye ever see now - barrin' me now.
Ev'ry day there's one of them would say
That she'll agree now - you'll see now.
All night they'd fight as to which o' them was right
In the colour of her eyes and hair;
But not a word from me was ever heard
About the Darling Girl from Clare.

I never said a single word about her
But I met the girl that day,
I told her I could never live without her,
An' what had she to say?
She said that I should go and see her father,
I met him then and there,
An' in less than an hour we were fightin' for the dower
Of the Darling Girl from Clare!

So every man had got the finest plan
Ye ever see now - barrin' me now,
Ev'ry day there's one of them would say
That she'll agree now - you'll see now.
But late last night when the moon was bright,
I axed her if she'd share
Me joy an' me sorra' an' begorra! On tomorra'
I'll be married to the Girl from Clare!

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Danny Boy

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen and down the mountain side
The summer’s gone, and all the roses falling
It’s you, it’s you must go and I must bide

But come ye back when summer’s in the meadow
Or when the valley’s hushed and white with snow
It’s I’ll be here in sunshine, or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so

But when ye come and all the flowers are dying
If I am dead, and dead I well may be
You’ll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an ave there for me

And I shall hear tho’ soft you tread above me
And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be
For you will bend and tell me that you love me
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me