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Mudcat Island Folk Festival
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Subject: Lyr Add: PEBBLES IN THE SAND (Melanie Safka) From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Date: 14 Feb 00 - 02:00 PM An ancient mariner longing for the good old days invites a group of friends over to Mudcat Island for a few days of fun and music. Mudcat Island is on the East Coast near the border with The USA. It is a large island with a small safe harbour with room for several vessels. At low tide it is possible to drive campers onto the island via a short causeway. Since the down turn in the local fishery only the ancient mariner lives in the lighthouse keepers house; and a few biologists and meteorologists occasionally visit the Island. The lightkeepers house is quite large; and the old Lifeboat station attached has been converted into a sound stage with lighting. The old lighthouse has been replaced by a solar powered modern light. The ancient mariner is spending his retirement on the island; and has opened up all the spare rooms; and the assistant lighthouse keepers house for his friends to stay. Or if they camp or come by boat, provides refreshments and facilities for everyone... The stage is open refreshments are waiting; and a lovely lady he fell in love with years ago steps up on stage guitar in hand, and sings a gentle song for him......
PEBBLES IN THE SAND
Isnt it grand
Seasons of rain
Under the sun
Isn't it grand |
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Subject: Lyr Add: BLACKBERRY WAY (Roy Wood) From: Mbo Date: 14 Feb 00 - 02:37 PM Up the road walks a rather bedraggled character--he has a raincoat on, but even with the hood that is pulled over his head, one can observe his short auburn hair and the twinkle of his spectacles. It is also evident that he has not used a razor in some time. In one hand, he carries a guitar, and in the other he grips a sack of filled with music and memories. He walks into the innkeeper's house and sets down his fardels. He gently removes his guitar from the soft case that had accompanied him through years of traveling. He pulls up a stool and starts to strum... Blackberry Way absolutely pouring down with rain, It's a terrible day. Up with the lark, silly girl I don't know what to say, She was running away. But now I'm standing on the corner, Lost in the things that I said. What am I supposed to do now? Goodbye Blackberry Way I can't see you, I don't need you. Goodbye Blackberry Way Sure to want me back another day. Flowers in the park overgrowing but the trees are bare There's a memory there. Boats on the lake, unattended now for all to drown I'm incredibly down. Just like myself they are neglected, Turn with my eyes to the wall What am I supposed to do now? Goodbye Blackberry Way I can't see you, I don't need you. Goodbye Blackberry Way Sure to want me back another day. Run for the train, look behind you for she may be there said a thing in the air Blackberry Way, See the battlefield of careless sins cast to the winds So full of emptiness without her, Lost in the words that I said. What am I supposed to do now? Goodbye Blackberry Way I can't see you, I don't need you. Goodbye Blackberry Way Sure to want me back another day. Goodbye Blackberry Way I can't see you, I don't need you. Goodbye Blackberry Way Sure to want me back another day. --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Date: 14 Feb 00 - 02:44 PM Ah nice song mate.. Come and grab a bowl of soup and some fresh bread.. Now I've got to put some coal on the fire, and get some beer up from below.. Help yerself to whatever takes yer fancy; and if ye want theres a room fer ye upstairs. Now here's a razor and towel freshen up for there's some beautifull ladies comming to this festival and you want to look yer best mate.. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: THE ROSEVILLE FAIR (Bill Staines) From: wysiwyg Date: 14 Feb 00 - 03:01 PM A lovely lady whose accumulated life radiates from her strolls up, bearing an Autoharp case and tunbebinder. She grins in greeting as she sees the fellas lolling about waiting for her, and says, "Now my husband is parking the pop-up and he'll be along shortly, but it's Valentine's Day and I'd like us to be singing Roseville Fair when he arrives. Do you know it?" The assembled company quickly helps her get set up; there's a short delay while a table of appropriate height is found for the autoharp. She settles herself comfortably and pulls the first chords down strongly from the strings, and begins to sing a reminder of love starting and love enduring. THE ROSEVILLE FAIR (Bill Staines) Oh, the night was clear, and the stars were shining And the moon came up so quiet in the sky. And the people gathered 'round and the band was a-tuning. I can hear them now playing "Coming through the Rye." And we danced all night to the fiddle and the banjo. Their drifting tunes seemed to fill the air. So long ago, but I still remember When we fell in love at the Roseville Fair. Her husband has heard the tune floating to the camping area and has come, fiddle in hand. He's smiling that sweet private smile she doesn't see often enough, and he joins in. You were dressed in blue, and you looked so lovely, Just a gentle flower of a small town girl. You took my hand, and we stepped to the music. And with a single smile, you became my world. We courted well, and we courted dearly, And we'd rock for hours in the front porch chair Then a year went by from the time that I met you And I made you mine at the Roseville Fair So here's a song for all of the lovers, And here's a tune that they can share May they dance all night to the fiddle and the banjo The way we did at the Roseville Fair. The assembled company harmonizes the piece so well that it's awhile before they can let go of the song.... But look-- here come others to lend a tune and a laugh... |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: katlaughing Date: 14 Feb 00 - 03:09 PM After washing up and freshening her tresses, a calico kat sits over in the corner by the window, a shaft of soft sunlight shining on her faded redhair. She closes her eyes in contentment, listening, and some swear they could hear a soft purr come from her way. Her heart is full this day with good friends, music, and the peacefullness found only in such blessed places as the Ancient Mariner's Island. When a kat finds a place this comfy, she may just wind up staying for a long, long time.:-) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 03:13 PM To seaward, white sails glinting in the setting sunlight, a long beautiful wooden schooner can be seen running down before the wind, her bearing fixed on the quay on the deepwater side of Mudcat Island. As she bears close you can see her name in gold on the bows in bright gilt letters -- The Mudcat Schooner -- and make out the figure of Joe high in the cross trees keeping a sharp eye on the channel in. At the last minute, almost too late, in an ineffable swoop of dauntless grace, the helm is turned down, the sheets are run out, and she spins on her heels nestling perfectly to the dockside in a clatter of lowering canvas and heaving lines. From the deck a score of 'Catters crowd to the rails, mandolins, banjos and Dreadnoughts blazing with perfect accord, their voices raised in a stirring sailor's tune: |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: katlaughing Date: 14 Feb 00 - 03:19 PM (whispered aside) Sideboys?? Is that something like a made-to-order extramarital affair partner? Bored Wife: "Scuse me, I'd like to know what you have in Sideboys this week." Clerk: "Why, yes, Ma'am, step right this way, up the gangplank, as you can see by their piping, they have plenty of staying power. Now, will that be cash or charge?" (Sorry, DaveTAM, I couldn't pass that one up. Something about a sailor-man. Ah...) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 03:25 PM Wow! A talking figurehead! That is waaaaay cool! I believe the expression comes from the custom of using midshipmites to pipe (by playing tunes on the bos'n' whistle) high officers on and off ships of the British navy. Sailor Dave would have the definitive word on that. (If you want a reference to the talking figurehead, see the full lyrics to the Mudcat Schooner song in the Songbook.) A |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: katlaughing Date: 14 Feb 00 - 03:32 PM (Well, I'll be blowed (by the wind, only, me boy-o's!)When did you slip that one by me? And, did ya honestly think THIS figurehead would keep silent?**BG** T'anks!) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Willie-O Date: 14 Feb 00 - 03:36 PM (a muttering is heard from indeterminate source in the growing throng of bearded instrument-wielders)... "methinks a certain rusty-haired damsel has more'n music on her agile mind.... "You can see them all, the lads o' the fair
Tap another keg, Dave, I think the fun is just startin'
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Subject: Lyr Add: MY LOVE IS LIKE A RED, RED ROSE (Burns) From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Date: 14 Feb 00 - 03:36 PM If someone will play I shall sing out My love is like a Red Red Rose, just for all you ladies on this day dedicated to love. (ancient mariner puts his spyglass down and wipes a tear from his eye)Softly sings.... MY LOVE IS LIKE A RED, RED ROSE. Robert Burns
O, my luve’s like a red, red rose,
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
’Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And fare thee weel, my only luve!
Ahhh Burns laddie you know how to speak to the heart of the matter. Yours, (wishin she was here) Aye. Dave |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 03:42 PM Davie lad, so sweetly sung! Come, up the gangway wi' ye and share a tot of dark brown rum in the aft cabin, to calm thy hurt! A |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Date: 14 Feb 00 - 04:04 PM Ahhh Nelsons Blood The cure! Lovely Rum Capn Amos thank ye kindly... I have a barrel of Napoleons blood fresh from Saint Pierre Miquelon in my shack I'm breaking her out tonight fer "All Hands" Join in the singing and bring all yer mates ashore for a night....Yours,Aye. Dave |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 04:10 PM That's all we were waiting for, mate! I think the possum will stand the in-port watch. Rest 'a youse lot is on libs. Anyone who gets too drunk to make it back on board sleeps ashore and we cast off wi' ye or not! Cletus has his Blue Peter handy, so keep a weather eye out for it! The gangplank trembles and thunders as scores of happy Catters carrying instruments swarm ashore, leaving a small possum patrolling the quarterdeck with a gimlet eye and his tailbone whistling in the light quartering breeze. A |
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Subject: Lyr Add: SWEET TALKIN' WOMAN From: Mbo Date: 14 Feb 00 - 04:18 PM Pump this one up, me boy-os! I was searching on a one-way street I was hoping for a chance to meet I was waiting for the operator on the line She's gone so long! What can I do? Where could she be? Don't know what I'm gonna do I gotta get back to you. Slow down, sweet talking woman You got me running You got me searching Hold on, sweet talking lover It's so sad if that's the way it's over Sweet talking woman. I was walking, many days go by I was thinking, about the lonely nights Communication breakdown all around She's gone so long! What can I do? Where could she be now? Don't know what I'm gonna do I gotta get back to you. I've been living on a dead-end street I've been asking everybody I meet Insufficient data coming through She's gone so long! What can I do? Where could she be? Don't know what I'm gonna do I gotta get back to you. --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 04:26 PM Ach, Mbo, plus ca change... Y'know Dave might have a slot for an assistant lighthouse keeper out here. The sea is a constant companion, if you respect her ways, and always fond of anyone who is truly ready for her. Good lessons to learn, and visions of beauty as will carry ye through yer whole life long. Ye could do worse. 'Course ye might have to grow yer hair a bitlonger (:>)) ) A |
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Subject: Lyr Add: ROSE OF BRITAIN'S ISLE From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Date: 14 Feb 00 - 04:39 PM Aye Amos the lad needs to be at sea for a few months on a trip to tropical islands. After a few months, he'll find Cleigh attractive; that's when we'll send him ashore to find the cure.... Now A song about true love for you mates... ROSE OF BRITAIN'S ISLE Both high and low attention give And quickly you shall hear It's of a maiden fair and gay Who lived in Lincolnshire Her cheeks like blooming roses red On a face appeared a smile This fair one's name was lovely Jane The rose of Britain's Isle She was a farmer's daughter His pride and only joy And when eighteen she fell in love With her father's apprentice boy Young Edmond lived contented Jane did his heart beguile By all above, he cried, I love The rose of Britain's Isle Oh when her father came to know This couple a courting were He in an angry passion flew How dreadful he did swear Saying, If you bring disgrace on me I'll send you many a mile With great disdain you'll cross the main From the rose of Britain's Isle Young Edmond on board a ship was sent To sail across the main While Jane at home did weep and mourn Her bosom swelled with pain She dressed herself in sailor's clothes And in a little while On board of the ship with Edmond went The rose of Britain's Isle They had not been many days at sea When a storm it did arise And when young Edmond went aloft Jane wept with tearful eyes 'Twas little did young Edmond know That Jane did on him smile Or by his side did stand his bride The rose of Britain's Isle It was when they came near the coast of Spain The enemy gave the alarm And by a ball, young Jane did fall Which shattered her left arm The seamen ran to lend their aid While Jane in agony smiled The surgeon beheld some maid 'Tis the rose of Britain's Isle Young Edmond he was sore surprised And troubled with much pain And when young Jane recovered They were both sent home again And the people were with wonder struck And the villagers did smile Saying, you're welcome back, young Edmond And the rose of Britain's Isle Her father being dead and gone Most joyful to relate And all his gold, he willed to Jane Likewise a large estate And they were married while the bells did ring And the villagers did smile Long and happy may young Edmond reign With the rose of Britain's Isle |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Peg Date: 14 Feb 00 - 04:53 PM Och, the songs 'o Rabbie Burns! They do melt a lassie's heart, so they do... (see the long-haired lassie, wiping away a happy tear as she sits near a tuft of salty grass, silver-blue seabreezes blowing the auburn strands about, bare toes dipped in pearly-white sand, legs wrapped in wave-dampened skirts of green and rose, the air is brisk but not cold here, alive with the smell of salt and storm, of silent sunrise forever pale orange, of kelp and kelpies, alive with the roaring music of the waves and the muted rhythms of the land, and somewhere not far distant the fragrance of loam and trees and fiery mountains...the lassie sits and listens and watches and waits for a song to come to her...) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: JedMarum Date: 14 Feb 00 - 05:22 PM Standing on the southeast corner of the island, just as the tide is coming in, another Mudcatter faces the late morning sun. Tall in his all weather coat, hood pulled over his head, long moments pass before he finally walks up to the lightkeeper's house. Once inside, he greets his host and other guests, and remembers a song his father used to sing - it plays through his head as the ancient mariner leads him to his room: Near Saint John's town the wind blows cold on winter eve'nings so I'm told And tears the heart Where spirits rest And tears the heart From my lover's breast I met her there at the Loyalist's fairground Her summer kiss, and heart aglow My Annie's love lit the fire of hope for This St John lad and his Grand Bay jo The summer passed And November tarried Now the ice forms massed And the cold wind carried We fought our way To bring our ship home Near the Bay of Fundy Slipped beneath the foam But I see her face at the Loyalist's fairground Her summer kiss, and heart aglow My Annie's love lit the fire of hope for This St John lad and his Grand Bay jo |
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Subject: Lyr Add: SAIL AWAY SWEET SISTER (from Queen) From: Mbo Date: 14 Feb 00 - 05:47 PM Strum...strum...let's play the game... Hey little babe you're changing Babe are you feeling sore? It ain't no use in pretending You don't wanna play no more It's plain that you ain't no baby What would your mother say? You're all dressed up like a lady How come you behave this way? Sail away sweet sister Sail across the sea Maybe you'll find somebody To love you half as much as me My heart is always with you No matter what you do Sail away sweet sister I'll always be in love with you Forgive me for what I told you My heart makes a fool of me You know that I'll never hold you I know that you gotta be free Sail away sweet sister Sail across the sea Maybe you'll find somebody To love you half as much as me Take it the way you want it But when they let you down my friend Sail away sweet sister Back to my arms again Hot child don't you know you're young You got your whole life ahead of you? And you can throw it away too soon Way too soon Sail away sweet sister Sail across the sea Maybe you'll find somebody Who loves you half as much as me My heart is always with you No matter what you do Sail away sweet sister I'll always be in love with you --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 05:54 PM Nicely written, Mbo. A balanced verse, euphonic, sweet. Put a tune on, and record it -- it definitely should go in the Mudcat Songbook. Now, it's time for you to start thinking about Leprechauns and yellow-half-moon shaped cereals! A |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Mbo Date: 14 Feb 00 - 06:04 PM Sorry, Amos. Not mine. It's by a band called Queen--perhaps you've heard of them? --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Áine Date: 14 Feb 00 - 06:06 PM A booming (yet beautiful) voice comes from above: I SAID NO DANCING BLOODY LEPRECHAUNS!!
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Mbo Date: 14 Feb 00 - 06:10 PM It's funny about music, isn't it? There's always someone else out there who knows exactly how you feel when the write their songs--Brian May is a master. --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 07:29 PM Mbo, the Cosmic Bodhran is ripping off across the blue ... did you invent some dancing leprechauns? I was in a traffic jam, couldna' been me...:>) A |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 08:05 PM As I walked out upon the green When the morning was still pale I saw a wee small leprechaun A dancing on the swale He was hopping high and bowin' low And gaily dancéd he And I stopped and asked that I might know What made him dance so free! And he said, Fluffy marshamallows and crescent moons, Well, GG, as Frank Sinatra said, sometimes you git the bear, and sometimes... |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 08:07 PM Sorry -- the last ingredient is pale green stars, not small pink hearts. A |
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Subject: Lyr/Tune Add: PHELIME From: GUEST,T in Oklahoma (Okiemockbird) Date: 14 Feb 00 - 08:37 PM The setting seems appropriate for a song about an island:
PHELIME
X: 1
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Okiemockbird Date: 14 Feb 00 - 08:51 PM Oops. The last word in the last line should be "ring". T. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Date: 14 Feb 00 - 09:10 PM A lone fiddler staggers up the dunes, late as usual.(Navigation is not her thing)Poor lass can't write songs, but she plays a lot of tunes. (She's also a hellava cook, if help is needed in the galley)"Wanna fiddle around?", oops, that's the line for the kissing booth, and she hasn't paid Mbo. Sunck one from Cleigh, tho' while the Cap'n thought he was on watch!Seems to be the day for schmaltz, so let's schmaltz and smooch.(Tune:"My Wild Irish Rose") Will it be Paddy's Day soon? |
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Subject: Lyr Add: COME BY THE HILLS From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Date: 14 Feb 00 - 09:19 PM Sadly the evening is closing. Another Valentines come and gone like so many others. The ancient mariner has been delivering red roses and chocolates to each couple on the island. Now the couples have no need of more music until tomorrow. The ancient mariner climbs to the top of the lighthouse, and sadly throws the last rose into the sea for "She" who never came. Sadly wending his weary way down to his room, he takes out the photo and gently gives it a kiss. Goodnight My Love. God send ye fair winds and following seas. He starts singing a song for those still walking in the glow of the moon. COME BY THE HILLS (Music: Traditional Gaelic [Buachaill On Eirne]; Words: Gordon Smith) Come by the hills to the land where fancy is free And stand where the peaks meet the sky and the lochs meet the sea Where the rivers run clear and the bracken is gold in the sun Ah, the cares of to-morrow can wait 'til this day is done Oh, come by the hills to the land where life is a song And sing while the birds fill the air with their joy all day long Where the trees sway in time and even the wind sings in tune Ah, the cares of to-morrow can wait 'til this day is done Come by the hills to the land where legend re-mains Where stories of old fill the heart and may yet come a-gain Where our past has been lost and the future has still to be won Ah, the cares of to-morrow can wait 'til this day is done |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Date: 14 Feb 00 - 09:19 PM Gonna make a run to the mainland for more Barley Pop, back soon. Anybody want to place an order? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 09:22 PM Case 'a Guinness -- and a coupl eof quart's of black Island Rum for the lonely Mariner there -- if he thinks he's gonna sink into melancholic oblivion this night, he has another thought comin'. A |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Date: 14 Feb 00 - 09:42 PM Aye aye, Sir. I think that is Alchoholic Oblivion,'eh?Are there any sand-dabs left, or just lobster? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Susan A-R Date: 14 Feb 00 - 10:41 PM Yet another fiddler ambles along the beach looking at the beach, thenstopping to gaze at the moon sings Last night I dreamed a doleful dream of shipwrack and storm and harm Last night I saw the old moon lyin' with the new moon in her arms. Shaking herself, she pulls out the fiddle and begins playing Midnight on the Water, and dancing couples begin to drift out onto the beach to waltz to the lovely melody. A string of waltzes (Another Land, The O Carolan one she can never spell, Star of County Down, Margaret's Waltz, South Wind, and Ashokan Farewell spin out over the sea. Then the other fiddler with the beer reuturns and the pace shifts to more lively stuff. Even the possum joins in the dance, thumping his little clay paws and whistling a high descant to the tunes. Even that sad red headed guitar player takes a spin or two out on the sand, although he mainly plays an amazing guitar to give the danc body and to keep it grounded. A fine bonfire is blazing, and skewers of fish, roast corn and smores are sustaining the dancers as the moon rises high in the sky.
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: katlaughing Date: 14 Feb 00 - 10:43 PM (Uh, Amos, just so'se ya know, that abbreviating of the Gaelic Goddess? Might get misinterpreted, as it has previously been used in referring to another who frequents the 'Cat, that I doubt Áine would want to be mistaken for. Sorry, not meaning to bring storm clouds or anything, but it did give me start there for a minute.) Sheesh, are asides the ONLY thing a figurehead is allowed to do??**BG** Ah, here's a song, then, from Holy Near:
Won't you write a melody for me, pretty woman
Rock me in your arms, so far away
Won't you write a melody for me, pretty woman,
Rock me in your arms, so far away
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Susan A-R Date: 14 Feb 00 - 10:47 PM Oops. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 14 Feb 00 - 10:52 PM Accch, for a figure head, she cuts a pretty mean figur ein her Own Right. Y'know I notice the Gaeilic Goddess didn't strike mne dead for putting the dancing leprechaun in to the thread. Maybe she thought my remark was aimed elsewhere... . Catters all, kAT and Susan especially, since the tide is going out on Valentine's Day and the smell of wet sand and salt breezes are in my face and you have been so kind and good as to create such beautiful song in my life...and as I've had several glasses of cheap wine with dinner...let me add, you have my undying affection and if you are ever in need of a Valentine I stand ready! I know of no finer honor in the world than so to serve the ladys of the Mudcat. With a will! With a Will!!. . Now I have to solve the puzzle of the lucky Charms.. . (He strides slowly, dragging his toes in the moist tide bed, to the schooner, gently riding at the quay with moonlight glinting from her spars and mast tops, and steps aboard, disappearing into the after cabin to drink black rum and compose quatrains to the Goddess...) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Date: 14 Feb 00 - 10:55 PM Ah, tis such a pity ye can't help Mbo and Max............ |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 15 Feb 00 - 12:04 AM Skipper A stands at the quarterdeck, gazing at the diamonds above, hearing their reflections in the salt waves below. He takes up a small parlor guitar fromt he head of the ganglplank and sings in a modal scale to the night, the wind, and the lapping endless waters: Take He sighs happily into the night-of-summer sky and goes below. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Date: 15 Feb 00 - 12:21 AM If ya sing the blues, ya just got to feelin' better. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: THE BRIDE OF THE WAVES OF SORROW From: katlaughing Date: 15 Feb 00 - 12:26 AM THE BRIDE OF THE WAVES OF SORROW
Oh, does thou know then
Then gather'd he, at midnight's rest
Twixt mournful sea and shore,
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: JedMarum Date: 15 Feb 00 - 12:29 AM salt wind blows beneath midnight sky gentle the wind streaks a cold wet kiss across my face and stings ever so slightly <>br> silent the stars lie deep in their heavan while distant waves crash and rush across the sandy shore beyond I face the eternal I taste the mystic I drink in the spirit of the North Atlantic
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Mbo Date: 15 Feb 00 - 12:36 AM Face the mighty waterfall They say love is a waterfall Pulls you in, takes you down It's a sad affair But you know if you hold back the power there Without your friends & lovers You could never go on living... --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Date: 15 Feb 00 - 12:40 AM Sorcha the Fiddler plays "The Parting Glass" and departs for her pavilion, til the morrow. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: NEW YORK GIRLS From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Date: 15 Feb 00 - 04:13 AM Ahhh Dawn and time to clean the birdshite off the new light. Even elecktrickery modern things need a hand with cleaning once in a while. Duty calls I must obey. How about a nice breakfast shanty mates... As I walked down the Broadway One evening in July I met a maid who asked me trade And a sailor John says I AND AWAY, YOU SANTEE MY DEAR ANNIE OH, YOU NEW YORK GIRLS CAN'T YOU DANCE THE POLKA? To Tiffany's I took her I did not mind expense I bought her two gold earrings And they cost me fifteen cents Says she, 'You Limejuice sailor Now see me home you may' But when we reached her cottage door She this to me did say My flash man he's a Yankee With his hair cut short behind He wears a pair of long sea-boots And he sails in the Blackball Line He's homeward bound this evening And with me he will stay So get a move on, sailor-boy Get cracking on your way So I kissed her hard and proper Afore her flash man came And fare ye well, me Bowery gal I know your little game I wrapped me glad rags round me And to the docks did steer I'll never court another maid I'll stick to rum and beer I joined a Yankee blood-boat And sailed away next morn Don't ever fool around with gals You're safer off Cape Horn |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Crowhugger Date: 15 Feb 00 - 04:36 AM Ahoy, there, DaveTAM, A shy gal, her guitar, banjo and cello in tow, breathes asquint into the pinking sun. Soon her face warms to the growing gold of daybreak and the air fills with the strains of an ancient mariner's brokenhearted song. A soft, mossy rock beckons so she sits to listen a bit. Presently the ancient's voice is joined by a low, sweet countermelody as he bares the grief of his loss. When a voice is so heartfelt, she cannot bear to ask why the bar is not open for a breakfast shandy... |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Dave (the ancient mariner) (on duty) Date: 15 Feb 00 - 07:26 AM Bar is always open Crowhugger love, and your are welcome... There will be some fun and dancing tonight. Sailors are used to being brokenhearted, its an occupational hazard. Duty comes hard, but is also measure of true love. The ancient mariner knows that it is easy to love the myth, rather than the reality of life. Placing the twenty seven year old faded photograph, (that is all that remains of his greatest love) away until next year. He fills a glass and serves the early risers.. Someone said that Joe Offer and Rick Fielding are playing today I look forward to that... Oh ye New york Gals cant ye dance the Polka! |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Callie Date: 15 Feb 00 - 07:50 AM Sorry I'm late folks. I turned up on the wrong island. Couldn't see the rocks for fur seals. ("for fur" - ain't those two words happy together?). Will you all join in a round of "Lowlands"? And then, i have a request for Mbo. Could you please give us "I Can't Get It Out of My Head"? Cheers! Callie |
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Subject: Lyr Add: CAN'T GET IT OUT OF MY HEAD (from ELO) From: Mbo Date: 15 Feb 00 - 08:09 AM Yes, oh yes, CALLIE! One of my personal favorite ELO songs EVER! Tears are coming to mine eyes... Midnight, on the water I saw the ocean's daughter Walking on a wave's chicane Staring as she called my name. And I can't get it out of my head No, I can't get it out of my head Now my old world is gone for dead 'Cos I can't get it out of my head. Breakdown, on the shoreline Can't move, it's an ebb tide Morning don't get here tonight Searching for her silver light. And I can't get it out of my head No, I can't get it out of my head Now my old world is gone for dead 'Cos I can't get it out of my head. Bank job, in the city Robin Hood & William Tell & Ivanhoe & Lancelot They don't envy me Sitting 'till the sun goes down In dreams the world keeps spinning round & round. And I can't get it out of my head No, I can't get it out of my head Now my old world is gone for dead 'Cos I can't get it out of my head. And I can't get it out of my head No, I can't get it out of my head Now my old world is gone for dead 'Cos I can't get it out of my head. Oh my God how I love ELO! Greatest music in the world! --Mbo |
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