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Mudcat Island Folk Festival

Dave (the ancient mariner) 14 Feb 00 - 02:00 PM
Mbo 14 Feb 00 - 02:37 PM
Dave (the ancient mariner) 14 Feb 00 - 02:44 PM
wysiwyg 14 Feb 00 - 03:01 PM
katlaughing 14 Feb 00 - 03:09 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 03:13 PM
katlaughing 14 Feb 00 - 03:19 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 03:25 PM
katlaughing 14 Feb 00 - 03:32 PM
Willie-O 14 Feb 00 - 03:36 PM
Dave (the ancient mariner) 14 Feb 00 - 03:36 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 03:42 PM
Dave (the ancient mariner) 14 Feb 00 - 04:04 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 04:10 PM
Mbo 14 Feb 00 - 04:18 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 04:26 PM
Dave (the ancient mariner) 14 Feb 00 - 04:39 PM
Peg 14 Feb 00 - 04:53 PM
JedMarum 14 Feb 00 - 05:22 PM
Mbo 14 Feb 00 - 05:47 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 05:54 PM
Mbo 14 Feb 00 - 06:04 PM
Áine 14 Feb 00 - 06:06 PM
Mbo 14 Feb 00 - 06:10 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 07:29 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 08:05 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 08:07 PM
GUEST,T in Oklahoma (Okiemockbird) 14 Feb 00 - 08:37 PM
GUEST,Okiemockbird 14 Feb 00 - 08:51 PM
Sorcha 14 Feb 00 - 09:10 PM
Dave (the ancient mariner) 14 Feb 00 - 09:19 PM
Sorcha 14 Feb 00 - 09:19 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 09:22 PM
Sorcha 14 Feb 00 - 09:42 PM
Susan A-R 14 Feb 00 - 10:41 PM
katlaughing 14 Feb 00 - 10:43 PM
Susan A-R 14 Feb 00 - 10:47 PM
Amos 14 Feb 00 - 10:52 PM
Sorcha 14 Feb 00 - 10:55 PM
Amos 15 Feb 00 - 12:04 AM
Sorcha 15 Feb 00 - 12:21 AM
katlaughing 15 Feb 00 - 12:26 AM
JedMarum 15 Feb 00 - 12:29 AM
Mbo 15 Feb 00 - 12:36 AM
Sorcha 15 Feb 00 - 12:40 AM
Dave (the ancient mariner) 15 Feb 00 - 04:13 AM
Crowhugger 15 Feb 00 - 04:36 AM
GUEST,Dave (the ancient mariner) (on duty) 15 Feb 00 - 07:26 AM
Callie 15 Feb 00 - 07:50 AM
Mbo 15 Feb 00 - 08:09 AM
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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
Melanie Safka

Isnt it grand
I picked up a pebble on the sand
It knows my hand
I taught the sea my song
And it sings it for me when I am gone

Seasons of rain
I bring my little river thus he knows my pain
I gave the sea my tears
And they'll cry for you when I am not here

Under the sun
All pebbles on the sand know why I've come
The sea knows what I've done
And it missed the sea toys that I took home
And its gonna miss me when I am gone
And its gonna miss you cause we are one

Isn't it grand
I picked up a pebble on the sand
It knows my hand
I taught the sea my song
And it sings it for me when I am gone
And its gonna miss me when I am gone


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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:

"Away! The Mudcat!
The Mudcat Schooner, o!
That Mudcat takes you anywhere
That you would want to go!

Hands break out hosepipes and secure the canvas and lines, and a graceful scrolled and hand-carved wooden gangplank, gaily decked with snow-white canvas panels and monkeyfisted rope rails, is lowered away to the quay. Three sideboys leap to the quarterdeck and set their bos'n pipes screeling in unison as Joe and Max are piped ashore to join the merry-making.


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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....
"
indeed that puts me in mind of a song...

"You can see them all, the lads o' the fair
Lads o' the Forth and the Callan water
Workin lads and lads wi' gear
Lads would sell you the prefect's daughter
Soldiers back from the German wars
Peddlers over the border...
And Lassies wi' an eye for more than the kye
At the trystin' fair at Mudcat...

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,
  That’s newly sprung in June:
O, my luve’s like the melodie
  That’s sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
  So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
  ’Till a’ the seas gang dry.

’Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
  And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
  While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve!
  And fare thee weel a-while!
And I will come again my luve,
  Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

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,

Chorus: (Very rapidly):

Fluffy marshamallows and crescent moons,
beautiful rainbows,and red balloons,
Pretty green clovers and pale pink hearts
Cups of sweet cane and some small pink hearts
I ate them all madly and they went to me brain
And it makes all my limbs flop and drives me insane



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

O it’s pretty to be in the bonny Church Island,
nobody there but Philip my diamond.
Philip would whistle and I would sing
until we would make the Church Island to sing.

I have changed the boyfriend’s name from “Phelime” to “Philip”, since the latter is more clearly recognizable as a boy’s name.


Source: Ulster Folksong, collected by Mrs. T. C. Houston, Academical Institution, Coleraine, from her mother.
Edition: UlsterJournal of Archaeology, Volume 1, Belfast, 1895.

X: 1
T: Phelime
C: 19th Century Ulster, from Ulster Journal of Archaeology Vol. 1, 1895.
M: 6/8
K: D
L: 1/8
| F/ G/ | F/ A>F E D E | D/ D>D D2 D | F E F A2 B | B/ A>F F2 E |
| D D D D/ D>D | (FE) F A2 B | A A F E>D E | D/ D>D D2 z ||


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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
I need a little song in the middle of the day
Won't you write a melody, just a simple melody
To rock me in your arms, so far away...

Rock me in your arms, so far away
Rock me in your arms, so far away
I send you the words, I send you the dreams
The one thing missing is me it seems
So won't you please find a melody
To rock me in your arms, so far away....

Won't you write a melody for me, pretty woman,
I need a little song in the middle of the day
Won't you write a melody, one that brings you close to me
To rock me in your arms so far away...

Rock me in your arms, so far away
Rock me in your arms, so far away
I send you the words, I send you the dreams
The one thing missing is me it seems
So won't you please find a melody
To 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
This slave of music, for the sake
Of him, who is the slave of thee;
And teach it all the harmony
In which thou canst, and only thou,
5 Make the delighted spirit glow,
Till joy denies itself again
And, too intense, is turn'd to pain.

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
Of my heart, o weary man of sea?
It bends and breaks unto the ground
My love belongs to thee.
Stay not thou, only longer
An hour by my side?
For I, a simple woman be,
Yet, the sea, she is your bride
In sorrow now I wander
Midst the braken and the ruin
Lost thou I have, alas, now then
The sea take me to my doom.

Then gather'd he, at midnight's rest
Saw her ghostly pale divide

Twixt mournful sea and shore,
When he came in on the weary tide.
With despair, his heart, he lost it
Out on the brine that night
And, knew not another, ever more
No mortal woman's delight.
His maiden, bride and mistress,
La Mer, called him out sad, but brave,
And there he dwelt on the Waves of Sorrow
'Til he joined True Love in her grave.


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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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