DON'T BURY ME BEFORE THE BATTLE
(Gordon Menzies)
On the hills above the town our forces were assembled
We were ready; we were waiting for the fray
But we knew that ere the dawn many friends would soon depart it
Many soldiers wouldn't greet another day
Chorus:
But don't you bury me before the battle if you think it's by choice I'm here tonight
I don't make the orders, I obey them don't you bury me before the fight
DON'T SIT ON MY JIMMY SHANDS
(Richard Thompson)
When the party hit full swing I saw you come reeling in
You had that six pack in a stranglehold
Now you stagger now you sway why don't you fall the other way
Cos I've got something here worth more than gold
Chorus:
Don't sit on my Jimmy Shands Don't sit on my Jimmy Shands
They don't mend with sticky tape and glue
Don't sit on my Jimmy Shands Don't sit on my Jimmy Shands
That's my very best advice to you
Darling though you're twice my size I don't mean to patronize
Honey let me lead you by the hand
Find a lap or find a chair you can park it anywhere
Just don't rest your cheeks against my man
Chorus
Call me precious I don't mind 78's are hard to find
You just can't get the shellac since the war
This one's the Beltona brand Finest label in the land
They don't make them like that anymore
Chorus
No shindig is half complete without that famous polka beat
That's why they invite me I suppose
Waltzes Strathspeys, eightsome reels now you know how good it feels
Crank that handle babe—away she goes
Chorus
DONALD MACGILLAVRY
Donald's gane up the hill hard and hungry,
Donald comes down the hill wild and angry;
Donald will clear the gouk's nest cleverly,
Here's to the king and Donald MacGillavry.
Come like a weighbauk, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like a weighbauk, Donald MacGillavry,
Balance them fair, and balance them cleverly:
Off wi'the counterfeit, Donald MacGillavry.
Donald's run o'er the hill but his tether, man,
As he were wud, or stang'd wi' an ether, man;
When he comes back, there's some will look merrily:
Here's to King James and Dnnald MacGillavry.
Come like a weaver, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like a weaver, Dnnald MacGillavry,
Pack on your back, and elwand sae cleverly;
Gie them full measure, my Donald MacGillavry.
Donald has foughten wi' rief and roguery;
Donald has dinner'd wi banes and beggary,
Better it were for Whigs and Whiggery
Meeting the devil than Donald MacGillavry.
Come like a tailor, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like a tailor, Donald MacGillavry,
Push about, in and out, thimble them cleverly,
Here's to King James and Donald MacGillavry.
Donald's the callan that brooks nae tangleness;
Whigging and prigging and a'newfangleness,
They maun be gane: he winna be baukit, man:
He maun hae justice, or faith he'll tak it, man.
Come like a cobbler, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like a cobbler, Donald MacGillavry;
Beat them, and bore them, and lingel them cleverly,
Up wi' King James and Donald MacGillavry.
Donald was mumpit wi mirds and mockery;
Donald was blinded wi' blads o' property;
Arles ran high, but makings were naething, man,
Lord, how Donald is flyting and fretting, man.
Come like the devil, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like the devil, Donald MacGillavry;
Skelp them and scaud them that proved sae unbritherly,
Up wi King James and Donald MacGillavry!
DONALD, WHERE'S YOUR TROUSERS?
I just got in frae the Isle of Skye, I'm not very big and I'm awfully shy
The ladies shout as I go by “Donald where's your trousers?”
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
A lady took me to a ball and it was slippery in the hall
I was afraid that I might fall, 'cause I had nae on me trousers!
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
They'd like to wed me everyone just let them catch me if they can
You canna put the brakes on a highland man, who doesn't like wearing trousers.
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
To wear the kilt is my delight, it isn't wrong; I know its right
The highlanders would get affright if they saw me in trousers.
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
Well I caught a cold and me nose was raw I had no handkerchief at all
So I hiked up my kilt and I gave it a blow, now you can't do that with trousers.
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
DON'T GET MARRIED GIRLS
(Leon Rosselson)
Don't get married girls—you'll sign away your life,
You may start off as a woman but you'll end up as the wife.
You could be a vestal virgin, take the veil and be a nun,
But don't get married girls, for marriage isn't fun.
Oh it's fine when you're romancing and he plays a lover's part,
You're the roses in his garden; you're the flame that warms his heart.
And his love will last forever, and he'll promise you the moon,
But just wait until you're wedded and he'll sing a different tune.
You're his tapioca pudding; you're the dumplings in his stew,
And he'll soon begin to wonder what he ever saw in you.
Still he takes without complaining all the dishes you provide,
But you see he has to have his bit of jam tart on the side.
So don't get married girls - it's very badly paid
You may start off as the mistress but you'll end up as the maid.
Be a daring deep-sea diver, be a polished polyglot,
But don't get married girls, for marriage is a plot.
Have you seen him in the morning with a face that looks like death,
He's got dandruff on his pillow and tobacco on his breath.
And he wants some reassurance, with his cup of tea in bed,
'Cos he's got worries with the mortgage and the bald patch on his head.
And he's sure that you're his mother, lays his head upon your breast.
So you try to boost his ego, iron his shirt and warm his vest.
Then you get him off to work - the mighty hunter is restored
And he leaves you there with nothing but the dreams you can't afford.
So don't get married girls for men are all the same,
They just use you when they need you, you'd do better on the game.
Be a call girl, be a stripper. be a hostess, be a whore
But don't get married girls, for marriage is a bore.
When he comes home in the evening, he can hardly spare a look,
All he says is "What's for dinner?", after all you're just the cook.
And he'll clutch you with that "Look what I've got!" sparkle in his eyes,
Like he's entered for a raffle, and won you for a prize,
But when the party's over, you'll be slogging through the sludge,
Half the time a decoration and the other half a drudge.
So don't get married - it'll drive you round the bend
It's the lane without a turning it's the end without an end.
Change your lover every Friday; take up tennis, be a nurse,
But don't get married girls for marriage is a curse.
And you get him off to work - the mighty hunter is restored
And he leaves you there with nothing but the dreams you can't afford.
DONEGAL DANNY
(Phil Coulter/Bill Martin)
I remember the night that he came in from the wintry, cold and damp
A giant of man in an oil skin coat and bundle that told he was a tramp
He stood at the bar and he called a pint, turned and gazed at the fire
"On a night like this to be safe and dry, is my one and only desire.”
Chorus:
So here's to those that are dead and gone, to friends that I love dear
And here's to you and I'll bid you, "adieu',
Saying, "Donegal Danny's, been here me boys,
Donegal Danny's, been here"
Then in a voice that was hushed and low, he said, "Listen, I'll tell you a tale,
How a man of the sea, became a man of the roads, and never more will set sail.”
"I've fished out of Howth and Killybegs, Ardglass and Baltimore,
But the cruel sea has beaten me and I'll my days upon the shore.”
Chorus
One fateful night in the wind and the rain we set sail for Killybegs town
Five of us from sweet Donegal and one from County Down
We were fishermen who worked the sea and never counted the cost
But I never thought ere that night was done that my fine friends would all be lost
Chorus
Then the storm it broke and drove the boat to the rocks about ten miles from shore
As we fought the tide we hoped inside we'd see our homes once more
Then we struck a rock and holed the bow and all of us knew she would go down
So we jumped right into the icy sea and prayed to God we wouldn't drown
But the raging sea was rising still as we struck out for the land
And she fought with all her cruelty to claim our gallant band
By St. John's Point in the early dawn I dragged myself onto the shore
And cursed the sea for what she'd done and vowed to sail her never more
Chorus
Ever since that night I've been on the road, traveling and trying to forget
That awful night I lost all my friends, I see their faces yet
Ever since that night when the sea is high and the rain is tearing at my skin
I hear the cries of drowning men floating over on the wind
Chorus
DON'T CALL ME EARLY IN THE MORNING
(Tommy Sands)
Chorus:
Don't call me early in the morning,
Call me what you want to but leave me alone,
Don't call me early in the morning,
Just leave me till the cows are coming home
Well a man and a woman, they need some relaxation,
From rising early at the dawn, and the heart of the matter,
Tomorrow is a Saturday,
And I will still be lying on
Chorus
Sad the lad, who cannot find contentment,
He has it all but still wants more,
He fills himself with pills to retire with a million,
And falls asleep at sixty-four
Chorus
Fair is fair, and I have done my share,
Me nerves are getting an me nerves,
If you haven't got a pillow of the white swan's feather,
I'll do with a corner for me head
Chorus
Just a little warning, about tomorrow morning,
No big noises near my room, cars with no exhausts,
Chickens with the whooping cough,
And milkmen who whistle out of tune
Chorus
Notes from The McCalmans' album "Festival Lights.” We had a TV series for the BBC recently and invited Tommy Sands to guest on one of the shows. He sang this song and asked us to join in. It turned out that learning this one was easier than forgetting it, it has one of these catchy tunes that keeps you awake at night so we admitted defeat and started singing it ourselves.
DOON IN THE WEE ROOM
(Trad/Daniel McLaughlin)
Chorus:
Doon in the wee room underneath the stair
Everybody's happy and everybody's there
We're a' makin' merry, each in his chair
Doon in the wee room underneath the stair
When you're tired and weary and you're feeling blue
Don't give way tae sorrow, we'll tell you what to do
Just tak' a trip tae Springburn and find the Quinn's Bar there
And go doon tae the wee room underneath the stair
Chorus
The king went oot a-hunting, his fortune for tae seek
He missed his train at Partick and went missing for a week
Oh after days of searching, of sorrow and despair
They found him in the wee room underneath the stair
Chorus
If your team has won the day and you want tae cheer
Take a trip tae Springburn and order up a beer
Hae yersel' a bevvy, gie yersel' a tear
Doon in the wee room underneath the stair
Chorus
When I'm auld and feeble and my bones are gettin' set
Ah'll no get cross and grumpy like other people get
Ah'm savin' up ma bawbees tae buy a hurly chair
Tae tak' me tae the wee room underneath the stair
Chorus
Repeat Chorus
DOWN BY THE GLEN SIDE
(Peadar Kearney)
'Twas down by the glen side I saw an old woman
A pluckin' young nettles, she ne'er saw me coming
I listened awhile to the song she was humming
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
Its fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming
On strong manly forms their eyes with hope gleaming
I see them again through all my sad dreaming
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
Some died by the hillside, some died with a stranger
And wise men have told us their cause was a failure
But they loved old Ireland and they never feared danger
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
When I was a young man there marching and drilling
I woke in the glen side to sounds awesome and thrilling
They loved dear old Ireland and to die they were willing
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
I cast down my way, God be praised that I met her
Be life long or short, I'll never forget her
We may have brave men, but we'll never have better
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
DOWN BY THE LIFFEYSIDE
(Peadar Kearney)
'Twas down by Anna Liffey, my love and I did stray
Where in the good old slushy mud the sea gulls sport and play.
We got the whiff of ray and chips and Mary softly sighed,
"Oh John, come on for a wan and wan
Down by the Liffeyside.”
Then down along by George's street the loving pairs to view
While Mary swanked it like a queen in a skirt of royal blue;
Her hat was lately turned and her blouse was newly dyed,
Oh you could not match her round the block,
Down by the Liffeyside.
And on her old melodeon how sweetly could she play.;
"Good-by-ee" and "Don't sigh-ee" and "Rule Brittanni-ay"
But when she turned Sinn Feiner me heart near burst with pride,
To hear her sing the "Soldier's Song",
Down by the Liffeyside.
On Sunday morning to Meath street together we will go,
And it's up to Father Murphy we both will make our vow.
We'll join our hands in wedlock bands and we'll be soon outside
For a whole afternoon, for our honeymoon,
Down by the Liffeyside.
DOWN IN THE COAL MINE
I am a jovial collier lad
As blithe as blithe can be
And let the times be good or bad
It's all the same to me
It's little of the world I know
And care less for its ways
For where the Dog Star never glows
It's there I spend my days
Down in the coalmine, underneath the ground
Where a gleam of sunshine never can be found
Digging up the dusky diamonds all the seasons round
Deep down in the coalmine, underneath the ground
Me hands are horny, hard and black
Through working in the vein
And like the clothes upon me back
My speech is rough and plain
And if I stumble with my tongue
I've one excuse to say
It's not the collier's heart that's wrong
It's his head that goes astray
How little do the great ones care
Who sit at home secure
What hidden dangers collier's dare
What hardships they endure
The very fire they sit beside
To cheer themselves and wives
Mayhap was kindled up at cost
Of jovial miners lives
Then cheer up lads and make the most
Of every joy you can
And always make your Murphy's such
As best befits a man
For let the times be good or bad
We'll still be jovial souls
For where would Britain be
Without the lads who look for coals
DOWN OUR STREET
Well it's of a gang and a band fools,
They were all out having a wild carouse
And there's skin and whiskers flying loose--DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
The landlord never gets his rent DOWN OUR STREET
For when he calls we haven't a cent DOWN OUR STREET
Well he says he'll never call again,
He'll have the bailiffs round by ten
There'll be plenty of houses to let by then DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
The collector does a lively trade DOWN OUR STREET
For all have bought, but none have paid DOWN OUR STREET
And when comes to get his own,
He's dead before he hits the ground
Now we're building a graveyard of our own DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
Salvation army around last night DOWN OUR STREET
They were trying to teach us wrong from right DOWN OUR STREET
The Sisters they began to moan,
The Parson spoke in a shnuffly aul tone
He was hit in the head with an old ham-bone DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
Well a Policeman once he hit Muldoon DOWN OUR STREET
Says Muldoon, "There'll be a funeral soon" DOWN OUR STREET
They took off their coats to fight one round,
And when Muldoon got off the ground
A Policeman's whiskers was all they found DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
DRINK
(Mick Fitzgerald)
Well, in Dublin Town we wander round, you say we have cares in the world, sir
But there are no jobs, so to get a few bob, half of Dublin City's on the dole, sir
And you ask me why we always smile and why we sing and dance into the night, sir
But there are twisted grins in our wagging and why we never walk in a straight line, sir
Chorus:
It's for drink, drink, the country's on the brink
We know man's life isn't long, sir
But time has past and if you fill my glass
I'll paint a bit of Dublin in a song, sir, I'll paint a bit of Dublin in a song
We've got market bars for the early jars to cure the he-be-gee-be's and the shakes, sir
Now the Holy hour's gone, so we can still carry, it's back to the business of the day, sir
And the problems of the world we'll all unfurl and nobody admits to being wrong, sir
We argue blind till closing time on the government, the buses and the bomb, sir
Chorus
Now, we've a government that's an ornament, most of them have nothing for a brain, sir
They've the IQ rate of a garden gate, they couldn't run a puddle down a drain, sir
They wave and smile, they kiss your child, they promise you the earth, the moon and stars, sir
But when it comes to the crunch, you'll find the whole bunch, drinking Bloody Mary's in the bar, sir
Chorus
Now the Dublin bus is a joke to us, in Ballymun we call them UFOs sir
Still we all look well, cause we walk like Hell, we're the healthiest city on the dole
And the buses strike whenever they like and when they're on the never run at all, sir
They cough and splutter, they stagger and stutter, they move along by clinging to the wall, sir
Chorus
So here's a health to the rats, the horrors and the bats, the elephants, the leprechauns and spiders
The things that crawl on your kitchen wall and things that go bump in the night, sir
And to conclude here's a health to you for helping to decorate me table, sir
Now, will you ever pay for my take away, and I'll finish my song while I am able, sir
FINAL Chorus:
And it's drink, drink, the country's on the brink
We know man's life isn't long, sir, but time has past like my empty glass
And that's a bit of Dublin in a song, sir, and that's a bit of Dublin in a song
DRINK IT UP MEN
At the pub on the cross-roads there's whiskey and beer
There's brandy from cognac that's fragrant but dear
But for killing the thirst and for raising the gout
There's nothing at all beats a pint of good stout
Drink it up men it's long after ten
At the pub on the cross-roads I first went astray
Where I drank enough beer for to fill Galway Bay
Going up in the morning I wore out my shoes
Going up to the cross for the best of good booze
Drink it up men it's long after ten
Some folk o'er the water think bitter is thine
And others they swear by the juice of the vine
But there's nothing that's squeezed from the grape or the hop
Like the black liquidation with the froth on the top
Drink it up men it's long after ten
I've traveled in England, I've traveled in France
At the sound of good music I'll sing or I'll dance
So hear me then Mister and pour one more
If I canna drink it up, then throw me out the door
Drink it up men it's long after ten
It's Guinness's porter that has me this way
For it's sweeter than buttermilk and stronger than tay
But when in the morning I feel kinda rough
Me curse on Lord Iveagh who brews the damned stuff
Drink it up men it's long after ten
Drink it up men it's long after ten
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
(Gordon Menzies)
On the hills above the town our forces were assembled
We were ready; we were waiting for the fray
But we knew that ere the dawn many friends would soon depart it
Many soldiers wouldn't greet another day
Chorus:
But don't you bury me before the battle if you think it's by choice I'm here tonight
I don't make the orders, I obey them don't you bury me before the fight
We were thinking of
our homes and dread that filled our marrow
Thinking of our daughters and our sons
Of our parents and our loves and the mournful moon above us
And the eyes behind those deadly foreign guns
Chorus
We were captives of
the laws that protect our sovereign country
Captives of that old eternal lie
Men, our cause is just and right, God will guard us in the battle
Show your courage by your willingness to die
Chorus
The reasons that
they gave us were honey sweet and hollow
Promises of justice, peace and joy
But some were made to lead and others made to follow
So understand this simple soldier boy
Chorus
As the Eastern sky
grew pale our resolve began to weaken
Then the orders came, make ready for the fight
So we formed reluctant ranks, said our last farewells and parted
Humanity we buried with the night
Chorus
DON'T SIT ON MY JIMMY SHANDS
(Richard Thompson)
When the party hit full swing I saw you come reeling in
You had that six pack in a stranglehold
Now you stagger now you sway why don't you fall the other way
Cos I've got something here worth more than gold
Chorus:
Don't sit on my Jimmy Shands Don't sit on my Jimmy Shands
They don't mend with sticky tape and glue
Don't sit on my Jimmy Shands Don't sit on my Jimmy Shands
That's my very best advice to you
Darling though you're twice my size I don't mean to patronize
Honey let me lead you by the hand
Find a lap or find a chair you can park it anywhere
Just don't rest your cheeks against my man
Chorus
Call me precious I don't mind 78's are hard to find
You just can't get the shellac since the war
This one's the Beltona brand Finest label in the land
They don't make them like that anymore
Chorus
No shindig is half complete without that famous polka beat
That's why they invite me I suppose
Waltzes Strathspeys, eightsome reels now you know how good it feels
Crank that handle babe—away she goes
Chorus
DONALD MACGILLAVRY
Donald's gane up the hill hard and hungry,
Donald comes down the hill wild and angry;
Donald will clear the gouk's nest cleverly,
Here's to the king and Donald MacGillavry.
Come like a weighbauk, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like a weighbauk, Donald MacGillavry,
Balance them fair, and balance them cleverly:
Off wi'the counterfeit, Donald MacGillavry.
Donald's run o'er the hill but his tether, man,
As he were wud, or stang'd wi' an ether, man;
When he comes back, there's some will look merrily:
Here's to King James and Dnnald MacGillavry.
Come like a weaver, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like a weaver, Dnnald MacGillavry,
Pack on your back, and elwand sae cleverly;
Gie them full measure, my Donald MacGillavry.
Donald has foughten wi' rief and roguery;
Donald has dinner'd wi banes and beggary,
Better it were for Whigs and Whiggery
Meeting the devil than Donald MacGillavry.
Come like a tailor, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like a tailor, Donald MacGillavry,
Push about, in and out, thimble them cleverly,
Here's to King James and Donald MacGillavry.
Donald's the callan that brooks nae tangleness;
Whigging and prigging and a'newfangleness,
They maun be gane: he winna be baukit, man:
He maun hae justice, or faith he'll tak it, man.
Come like a cobbler, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like a cobbler, Donald MacGillavry;
Beat them, and bore them, and lingel them cleverly,
Up wi' King James and Donald MacGillavry.
Donald was mumpit wi mirds and mockery;
Donald was blinded wi' blads o' property;
Arles ran high, but makings were naething, man,
Lord, how Donald is flyting and fretting, man.
Come like the devil, Donald MacGillavry,
Come like the devil, Donald MacGillavry;
Skelp them and scaud them that proved sae unbritherly,
Up wi King James and Donald MacGillavry!
DONALD, WHERE'S YOUR TROUSERS?
I just got in frae the Isle of Skye, I'm not very big and I'm awfully shy
The ladies shout as I go by “Donald where's your trousers?”
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
A lady took me to a ball and it was slippery in the hall
I was afraid that I might fall, 'cause I had nae on me trousers!
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
They'd like to wed me everyone just let them catch me if they can
You canna put the brakes on a highland man, who doesn't like wearing trousers.
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
To wear the kilt is my delight, it isn't wrong; I know its right
The highlanders would get affright if they saw me in trousers.
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
Well I caught a cold and me nose was raw I had no handkerchief at all
So I hiked up my kilt and I gave it a blow, now you can't do that with trousers.
Let the winds blow high, Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go—all the ladies say “Hello
Donald where's your trousers?”
DON'T GET MARRIED GIRLS
(Leon Rosselson)
Don't get married girls—you'll sign away your life,
You may start off as a woman but you'll end up as the wife.
You could be a vestal virgin, take the veil and be a nun,
But don't get married girls, for marriage isn't fun.
Oh it's fine when you're romancing and he plays a lover's part,
You're the roses in his garden; you're the flame that warms his heart.
And his love will last forever, and he'll promise you the moon,
But just wait until you're wedded and he'll sing a different tune.
You're his tapioca pudding; you're the dumplings in his stew,
And he'll soon begin to wonder what he ever saw in you.
Still he takes without complaining all the dishes you provide,
But you see he has to have his bit of jam tart on the side.
So don't get married girls - it's very badly paid
You may start off as the mistress but you'll end up as the maid.
Be a daring deep-sea diver, be a polished polyglot,
But don't get married girls, for marriage is a plot.
Have you seen him in the morning with a face that looks like death,
He's got dandruff on his pillow and tobacco on his breath.
And he wants some reassurance, with his cup of tea in bed,
'Cos he's got worries with the mortgage and the bald patch on his head.
And he's sure that you're his mother, lays his head upon your breast.
So you try to boost his ego, iron his shirt and warm his vest.
Then you get him off to work - the mighty hunter is restored
And he leaves you there with nothing but the dreams you can't afford.
So don't get married girls for men are all the same,
They just use you when they need you, you'd do better on the game.
Be a call girl, be a stripper. be a hostess, be a whore
But don't get married girls, for marriage is a bore.
When he comes home in the evening, he can hardly spare a look,
All he says is "What's for dinner?", after all you're just the cook.
And he'll clutch you with that "Look what I've got!" sparkle in his eyes,
Like he's entered for a raffle, and won you for a prize,
But when the party's over, you'll be slogging through the sludge,
Half the time a decoration and the other half a drudge.
So don't get married - it'll drive you round the bend
It's the lane without a turning it's the end without an end.
Change your lover every Friday; take up tennis, be a nurse,
But don't get married girls for marriage is a curse.
And you get him off to work - the mighty hunter is restored
And he leaves you there with nothing but the dreams you can't afford.
DONEGAL DANNY
(Phil Coulter/Bill Martin)
I remember the night that he came in from the wintry, cold and damp
A giant of man in an oil skin coat and bundle that told he was a tramp
He stood at the bar and he called a pint, turned and gazed at the fire
"On a night like this to be safe and dry, is my one and only desire.”
Chorus:
So here's to those that are dead and gone, to friends that I love dear
And here's to you and I'll bid you, "adieu',
Saying, "Donegal Danny's, been here me boys,
Donegal Danny's, been here"
Then in a voice that was hushed and low, he said, "Listen, I'll tell you a tale,
How a man of the sea, became a man of the roads, and never more will set sail.”
"I've fished out of Howth and Killybegs, Ardglass and Baltimore,
But the cruel sea has beaten me and I'll my days upon the shore.”
Chorus
One fateful night in the wind and the rain we set sail for Killybegs town
Five of us from sweet Donegal and one from County Down
We were fishermen who worked the sea and never counted the cost
But I never thought ere that night was done that my fine friends would all be lost
Chorus
Then the storm it broke and drove the boat to the rocks about ten miles from shore
As we fought the tide we hoped inside we'd see our homes once more
Then we struck a rock and holed the bow and all of us knew she would go down
So we jumped right into the icy sea and prayed to God we wouldn't drown
But the raging sea was rising still as we struck out for the land
And she fought with all her cruelty to claim our gallant band
By St. John's Point in the early dawn I dragged myself onto the shore
And cursed the sea for what she'd done and vowed to sail her never more
Chorus
Ever since that night I've been on the road, traveling and trying to forget
That awful night I lost all my friends, I see their faces yet
Ever since that night when the sea is high and the rain is tearing at my skin
I hear the cries of drowning men floating over on the wind
Chorus
DON'T CALL ME EARLY IN THE MORNING
(Tommy Sands)
Chorus:
Don't call me early in the morning,
Call me what you want to but leave me alone,
Don't call me early in the morning,
Just leave me till the cows are coming home
Well a man and a woman, they need some relaxation,
From rising early at the dawn, and the heart of the matter,
Tomorrow is a Saturday,
And I will still be lying on
Chorus
Sad the lad, who cannot find contentment,
He has it all but still wants more,
He fills himself with pills to retire with a million,
And falls asleep at sixty-four
Chorus
Fair is fair, and I have done my share,
Me nerves are getting an me nerves,
If you haven't got a pillow of the white swan's feather,
I'll do with a corner for me head
Chorus
Just a little warning, about tomorrow morning,
No big noises near my room, cars with no exhausts,
Chickens with the whooping cough,
And milkmen who whistle out of tune
Chorus
Notes from The McCalmans' album "Festival Lights.” We had a TV series for the BBC recently and invited Tommy Sands to guest on one of the shows. He sang this song and asked us to join in. It turned out that learning this one was easier than forgetting it, it has one of these catchy tunes that keeps you awake at night so we admitted defeat and started singing it ourselves.
DOON IN THE WEE ROOM
(Trad/Daniel McLaughlin)
Chorus:
Doon in the wee room underneath the stair
Everybody's happy and everybody's there
We're a' makin' merry, each in his chair
Doon in the wee room underneath the stair
When you're tired and weary and you're feeling blue
Don't give way tae sorrow, we'll tell you what to do
Just tak' a trip tae Springburn and find the Quinn's Bar there
And go doon tae the wee room underneath the stair
Chorus
The king went oot a-hunting, his fortune for tae seek
He missed his train at Partick and went missing for a week
Oh after days of searching, of sorrow and despair
They found him in the wee room underneath the stair
Chorus
If your team has won the day and you want tae cheer
Take a trip tae Springburn and order up a beer
Hae yersel' a bevvy, gie yersel' a tear
Doon in the wee room underneath the stair
Chorus
When I'm auld and feeble and my bones are gettin' set
Ah'll no get cross and grumpy like other people get
Ah'm savin' up ma bawbees tae buy a hurly chair
Tae tak' me tae the wee room underneath the stair
Chorus
Repeat Chorus
DOWN BY THE GLEN SIDE
(Peadar Kearney)
'Twas down by the glen side I saw an old woman
A pluckin' young nettles, she ne'er saw me coming
I listened awhile to the song she was humming
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
Its fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming
On strong manly forms their eyes with hope gleaming
I see them again through all my sad dreaming
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
Some died by the hillside, some died with a stranger
And wise men have told us their cause was a failure
But they loved old Ireland and they never feared danger
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
When I was a young man there marching and drilling
I woke in the glen side to sounds awesome and thrilling
They loved dear old Ireland and to die they were willing
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
I cast down my way, God be praised that I met her
Be life long or short, I'll never forget her
We may have brave men, but we'll never have better
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian men
DOWN BY THE LIFFEYSIDE
(Peadar Kearney)
'Twas down by Anna Liffey, my love and I did stray
Where in the good old slushy mud the sea gulls sport and play.
We got the whiff of ray and chips and Mary softly sighed,
"Oh John, come on for a wan and wan
Down by the Liffeyside.”
Then down along by George's street the loving pairs to view
While Mary swanked it like a queen in a skirt of royal blue;
Her hat was lately turned and her blouse was newly dyed,
Oh you could not match her round the block,
Down by the Liffeyside.
And on her old melodeon how sweetly could she play.;
"Good-by-ee" and "Don't sigh-ee" and "Rule Brittanni-ay"
But when she turned Sinn Feiner me heart near burst with pride,
To hear her sing the "Soldier's Song",
Down by the Liffeyside.
On Sunday morning to Meath street together we will go,
And it's up to Father Murphy we both will make our vow.
We'll join our hands in wedlock bands and we'll be soon outside
For a whole afternoon, for our honeymoon,
Down by the Liffeyside.
DOWN IN THE COAL MINE
I am a jovial collier lad
As blithe as blithe can be
And let the times be good or bad
It's all the same to me
It's little of the world I know
And care less for its ways
For where the Dog Star never glows
It's there I spend my days
Down in the coalmine, underneath the ground
Where a gleam of sunshine never can be found
Digging up the dusky diamonds all the seasons round
Deep down in the coalmine, underneath the ground
Me hands are horny, hard and black
Through working in the vein
And like the clothes upon me back
My speech is rough and plain
And if I stumble with my tongue
I've one excuse to say
It's not the collier's heart that's wrong
It's his head that goes astray
How little do the great ones care
Who sit at home secure
What hidden dangers collier's dare
What hardships they endure
The very fire they sit beside
To cheer themselves and wives
Mayhap was kindled up at cost
Of jovial miners lives
Then cheer up lads and make the most
Of every joy you can
And always make your Murphy's such
As best befits a man
For let the times be good or bad
We'll still be jovial souls
For where would Britain be
Without the lads who look for coals
DOWN OUR STREET
Well it's of a gang and a band fools,
They were all out having a wild carouse
And there's skin and whiskers flying loose--DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
The landlord never gets his rent DOWN OUR STREET
For when he calls we haven't a cent DOWN OUR STREET
Well he says he'll never call again,
He'll have the bailiffs round by ten
There'll be plenty of houses to let by then DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
The collector does a lively trade DOWN OUR STREET
For all have bought, but none have paid DOWN OUR STREET
And when comes to get his own,
He's dead before he hits the ground
Now we're building a graveyard of our own DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
Salvation army around last night DOWN OUR STREET
They were trying to teach us wrong from right DOWN OUR STREET
The Sisters they began to moan,
The Parson spoke in a shnuffly aul tone
He was hit in the head with an old ham-bone DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
Well a Policeman once he hit Muldoon DOWN OUR STREET
Says Muldoon, "There'll be a funeral soon" DOWN OUR STREET
They took off their coats to fight one round,
And when Muldoon got off the ground
A Policeman's whiskers was all they found DOWN OUR STREET
Down our street, there are married me and ladies fair
Dancing mad in the midnight air,
And there's several jawbones missing, where? DOWN OUR STREET
DRINK
(Mick Fitzgerald)
Well, in Dublin Town we wander round, you say we have cares in the world, sir
But there are no jobs, so to get a few bob, half of Dublin City's on the dole, sir
And you ask me why we always smile and why we sing and dance into the night, sir
But there are twisted grins in our wagging and why we never walk in a straight line, sir
Chorus:
It's for drink, drink, the country's on the brink
We know man's life isn't long, sir
But time has past and if you fill my glass
I'll paint a bit of Dublin in a song, sir, I'll paint a bit of Dublin in a song
We've got market bars for the early jars to cure the he-be-gee-be's and the shakes, sir
Now the Holy hour's gone, so we can still carry, it's back to the business of the day, sir
And the problems of the world we'll all unfurl and nobody admits to being wrong, sir
We argue blind till closing time on the government, the buses and the bomb, sir
Chorus
Now, we've a government that's an ornament, most of them have nothing for a brain, sir
They've the IQ rate of a garden gate, they couldn't run a puddle down a drain, sir
They wave and smile, they kiss your child, they promise you the earth, the moon and stars, sir
But when it comes to the crunch, you'll find the whole bunch, drinking Bloody Mary's in the bar, sir
Chorus
Now the Dublin bus is a joke to us, in Ballymun we call them UFOs sir
Still we all look well, cause we walk like Hell, we're the healthiest city on the dole
And the buses strike whenever they like and when they're on the never run at all, sir
They cough and splutter, they stagger and stutter, they move along by clinging to the wall, sir
Chorus
So here's a health to the rats, the horrors and the bats, the elephants, the leprechauns and spiders
The things that crawl on your kitchen wall and things that go bump in the night, sir
And to conclude here's a health to you for helping to decorate me table, sir
Now, will you ever pay for my take away, and I'll finish my song while I am able, sir
FINAL Chorus:
And it's drink, drink, the country's on the brink
We know man's life isn't long, sir, but time has past like my empty glass
And that's a bit of Dublin in a song, sir, and that's a bit of Dublin in a song
DRINK IT UP MEN
At the pub on the cross-roads there's whiskey and beer
There's brandy from cognac that's fragrant but dear
But for killing the thirst and for raising the gout
There's nothing at all beats a pint of good stout
Drink it up men it's long after ten
At the pub on the cross-roads I first went astray
Where I drank enough beer for to fill Galway Bay
Going up in the morning I wore out my shoes
Going up to the cross for the best of good booze
Drink it up men it's long after ten
Some folk o'er the water think bitter is thine
And others they swear by the juice of the vine
But there's nothing that's squeezed from the grape or the hop
Like the black liquidation with the froth on the top
Drink it up men it's long after ten
I've traveled in England, I've traveled in France
At the sound of good music I'll sing or I'll dance
So hear me then Mister and pour one more
If I canna drink it up, then throw me out the door
Drink it up men it's long after ten
It's Guinness's porter that has me this way
For it's sweeter than buttermilk and stronger than tay
But when in the morning I feel kinda rough
Me curse on Lord Iveagh who brews the damned stuff
Drink it up men it's long after ten
Drink it up men it's long after ten
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