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Mudcat Island Folk Festival
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Roger the skiffler Date: 15 Feb 00 - 11:41 AM That's the one, Bert, I learned it from Spinners concerts & records and was pleased to hear it sung in St Lucia a couple of years ago by a local group who were impressed we knew the chorus. (Less impressed by the accuracy of my singing I suspect!). RtS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Peg Date: 15 Feb 00 - 11:22 AM Amos: is it two-steppin' yer after, then?...nay, my sweet, only a waltz will do for my salty sea captain...besides, the evening is better for those more eneregetic songs...remember this is only my first cup of coffee! (and the motley band strikes up a rustic rendition of "Parting Glass" played in three...) (and the auburn lassie holds out her hand...) (and a lovely waltz is performed amid wistful smiles all around...) (and the captain and all hands decide they will stay on for more festivities before embarking...) did I hear we will have lobsters as the sun is setting? what fool would leave a musical lobster bake?
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Subject: Lyr Add: ISLAND WOMAN (from The Spinners) From: Bert Date: 15 Feb 00 - 11:15 AM A decrepid raft drifts onto the beach and a ragged old fart stumbles ashore. "Now Skiff be boy! a lot of these here Yankees don't know 'Island Woman', that great song from The Spinners. Didn't Cliffie write that one?" "So let's sing it again for them, and here's the words so they can all sing along" Chorus: Island Woman, Island woman, making me forget o who I am Island Woman, Island woman, making me forget o who I am The fishing is good near your island That's why I come back for more I saw you swim near my boat and I followed you back to the shore Chorus: Forgot to go back to market sell me fish and get paid forgot my wife and my children forgot they soon will be aged. Chorus: You danced for me in the moonlight drank the rum and had fun When I awoke in the daylight you took my money and run Chorus: Now my pocket is full of empty I'm back with my family but someday when I have money I'll be coming back, you will see. Chorus: |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll Date: 15 Feb 00 - 11:09 AM Ah... Sorcha lass, ye set an old mans heart to dreamin'. The sun is shinin' brightly o'er the deep and glitterin'water. Its warmth is feelin'good on my achin' weary bones. There's only you and I, lass, a-sittin' by the fire, And the blackberry bannocks are a-bakin' on the stones. There's black coffee boilin' in the pot upon the embers, Your soft hand in mine, girl, quiet and alone Tis good enough for me and I'll ask no more of heaven, As the blackberry bannocks lie a-bakin' on the stones. troll |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Mbo Date: 15 Feb 00 - 11:04 AM Ahhhh...this it the perfect time for "One By One" that Hootie & The Blowfish do....good campfire song... --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 15 Feb 00 - 10:59 AM Sweet Peg, Share that au lait and I'll pass you a croissant -- nearest thing to a proper Louisiana beignet they make in these parts. Glad someone around here understands breakfast. I understand you can teach me the twostep before I muster all hands to leaving harbor stations? I remember a summer night just outside of New Orleans, dancing to a Cajun band and feeding barbecue to the gators -- no, really! -- one of my happiest memories. Ehhhhh, toi!! Une blonde si jolie! On fait danser, danser, toute la nuit! |
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Subject: Lyr Add: THE BANKS OF NEWFOUNDLAND From: GUEST,Dave (the ancient mariner) Date: 15 Feb 00 - 10:53 AM Backberry Bannocks are lovely and good coffee too! luxury mates pure luxury...A song fer ye! THE BANKS OF NEWFOUNDLAND (3) Oh, you western ocean laborers, I would have you all beware When you go on board of a packet ship, no dungaree jumpers wear But have a big monkey jacket always at your command For there blow some cold nor'westers on the banks of Newfoundland We had one Lynch from Ballinahinch, Jimmy Murphy and Mike Moore It was in the winter of sixty-two; those poor boys suffered sore For they pawned their clothes in Liverpool or sold them out of hand (or shipped as they did stand) Never dreaming of cold nor'westers on the banks of Newfoundland So we'll rub her down and scrub her down with holystone and sand And we'll bid adieu to the Virgin Rocks and the banks of Newfoundland We had one female passenger, Bridget Reilly was her name To her I promised marriage; on me she had a claim She tore up her flannel petticoats to make mittens for us hands For she could not see us poor boys freeze on the banks of Newfoundland The mate jumps up on the capstan head and loudly he did roar: Come and rattle her in, me lively lads; we're bound for America's shore Then lay aloft and shake her out and give her all she'll stand And we'll bid adieu to the Virgin Rocks and the banks of Newfoundland So now it's reef and reef, me boys, with the canvas frozen hard And it's haul and pass, every mother's son, on a ninety-foot tops'l yard Never mind your boots and breeches, but haul or you'll be damned For there blow some cold nor'westers on the banks of Newfoundland And now we're off Sandy Hook, me boys, and the land's all covered in snow The tugboat will take our hawser, into New York we will tow And on the docks, come down in flocks, the pretty girls will stand Saying, It's warmer with me than it is at sea on the banks of Newfoundland |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Sorcha Date: 15 Feb 00 - 10:51 AM Hardtack, nuttin'! We're having Blackberry Bannocks, cooked on hot rocks! (Actually, I have done it!) |
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Subject: Lyr Add: MOMMA (from ELO) From: GUEST,Mbo Date: 15 Feb 00 - 10:50 AM She came up from the county with a smile for everyone She left her blue horizon just to find another home A lonely girl who'd travelled many days A lonely heart that could not find a way. And she said, Momma It's a hard life now you're gone Momma, it's so hard to carry on And I feel I'm a fool who lost it all You used to make it all so very clear That life must go on though the end is near Oh, Momma It's a sad and lonely life. A misty morning rider, she came wandering through the hills A wandering soul appearing over rainy window sills A loser in her heart, but in her face A smile for everyone under God's grace. Midnight maiden madness, what to search for in this place Gateway to the city, night sky shadows on her face A lady lost in nowhere but her stare Leaves the world, her life to start somewhere. --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: MMario Date: 15 Feb 00 - 10:46 AM yegads! who sent poor Mbo off blackberry picking THIS time of year? No wonder his lips are purple, he's half froze! (Don't mind me folks, it took me ten minutes this morning to chisel my way into my car through the ice.) I'm just gonna pour me a cup of that coffee, sit back, enjoy the fire and the music. But 'round about lunch time, I've got a fire pit down the beach that's steaming up a lobster and clam bake. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: FAREWELL TO CARLINGFORD From: Amos Date: 15 Feb 00 - 10:45 AM Hungover crew members are breaking out holystones, Brasso, and deck brooms, scrubbing and polishing until every nook of the schooner Mudcat gleams in the rising sun. The gangway watchman grabs the lanyard of the large brass bell and rings it eight times, looking around for his relief, and picks up a banjo left by a late night libertyman at the quartdeck, and plucks it thoughtfully. "On all of the stormy seven seas I have sailed before the mast, And in every port I ever made, I swore 't would be my last! A landsman's life is all his own, He can go or he can stay, But when the sea gets in your blood, When she calls, you must obey... So I'll sing farewell to Carlingford And farewell to Greenore And I'll think of you both day and night Until I return once more, until I return once more The relief appears to stand duty at the gangway head, and the watchman crosses to the waist where the topmast halyards are secured, a blue flag, furled and neatly tied. He undoes the stops and hauls away, raising the Blue Peter to the topmast, where the morning breeze sends it fluttering and calling, high above the schooner's gleaming deck, warning all hands that they must soon return to the sea. The watchman, relieved, goes forrard and retires below... |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll Date: 15 Feb 00 - 10:39 AM Hard tack, salt horse and coffee to soak it soft; a bit of music and a soft rock to lean on.A lisome lass and a following breeze. Heaven be hanged! I'm stayin' here. troll |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Peg Date: 15 Feb 00 - 10:32 AM ...the auburn haired lassie wanders back onto the beach after a night spent sleeping beneath pine boughs in a nearby wood. She rubs her eyes because she can't believe what she sees: Mudcatters, bedraggled, looking like they have not slept, still singing! Still playing! Still drinking! She sets about making them some coffee, heating water in a can over the driftwood fire...good thing Dave and Amos remembered some basic supplies...and Sorcha is attempting to make some sort of bread cooked on hot rocks...while Mbo is returning from a brief blackberry-picking expedition, his legs scratched by brambles and his lips slightly tinged with purple... ah! here it is: dark-roasted beans brewed extra strong, with chicory and hot milk...N'awlins style coffee on a Northeast beach! is there anything more decadent? Hey, can we get some beignets here? with blackberry jam? breakfast and song and salt sea air...ahhh.....
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: GUEST,Roger the skiffler Date: 15 Feb 00 - 09:10 AM The skiffler leaps ashore from a kaiki (or was he pushed?). Shaking the drops of water from his trusty kazoo [don't start, 'Spaw!] he launches into: "Island Woman" only to be divebombed by angry seagulls with perfect pitch. RtS |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: kendall Date: 15 Feb 00 - 09:01 AM I've sailed by this light many times in years gone by. As a matter of fact, I attended a party at Portland Head Light with the last live keeper of that ancient beacon. They may be more efficient now, but, there is damn little romance in a big battery pack. "Wrap me up in me tarpaulin jacket, and say a poor duffers laid low, get six salty seamen to carry me with steps mournful solumn and slow..."" |
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Subject: Lyr Add: THE OLD BROWNS HEAD LIGHT From: kendall Date: 15 Feb 00 - 08:54 AM And along comes an old salt with a song you may not know. It's a tribute to the old lighthouse keepers of the past. THE OLD BROWNS HEAD LIGHT (John McCutcheon) He sat at the table his eyes rimmed in red Saying, "Lucy, come see what the papers have said: We knew it was coming but, it still don't seem right. They are closing the old Browns Head Light. "And what about Charlie? Now what will he do When computers perform the one job that he knew? It's back to the big ships that forage the sound With his wife and his kids in some new place in town. CHORUS: "And it's many a lost soul he's seen safely home, And many a loved one he's brought to their own. A voice in the darkness, a star in the night, With a wish for good luck from that old Browns Head Light. "It was Boone Island, Saddleback, Egg Rock, Dice Head. Every year one more's wired or left there for dead. And it's one more old-timer washed up on the shore, As they hand him a gold watch, and show him the door. CHORUS "They call me old-fashioned. Guess maybe it's true, 'Cause I ain't learned to change quick as other folks do, But, it's the same thing all over, and the thing I fear most Is that Lucy, you know, we're the next light up coast. CHORUS: "And, it's many a lost soul I've seen safely home, And many a loved one I've brought to their own. I'm a voice in the darkness, a star in the night. I'm a wish for good luck from my home in the light." He sat at the table, his eyes rimmed in red, Saying, "Lucy, come see what the papers have said: It's hard to believe, but it's in black and white. They're closing the old Browns Head Light." |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Amos Date: 15 Feb 00 - 08:50 AM Way Up, Annie, My Dear Annie! Oh, you New York girls, can't you dance the polka! When I awoke next mornig, Nothing could I see But a lady's dress and apron, Which now belonged to me!
So dressed in a lady's apron,
Cafe Royale, Mister Cook, for all hands! |
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Subject: Lyr Add: WINONA From: Mbo Date: 15 Feb 00 - 08:47 AM I tried to call you but the line was busy Were you talking to a friend And when I tried again much later I didn't want to let it ring again So you can see I've got a problem Back by popular demand Sometimes I want to keep it from you Sometimes I think you'll understand Could you be my little movie star? Could you be my long lost girl? Is it true that I don't really know you? That I'm alone in the world When I think maybe I need you I don't care if it's not true 'Cause it isn't so much what I need now As what I want from you Could you be my little movie star? Could you be my long lost girl? Is it true that I don't really know you? That I'm alone in the world I feel alone... I feel alone... --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Troll Date: 15 Feb 00 - 08:36 AM Ineed no rum to warm my heart No poem or song to stir my passion For she who holds my heart in thrall as earth I wander, under sky She wanders with me, ever young as on the day when first we met the vision shines within my soul and drunk with love am I. troll |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Mbo Date: 15 Feb 00 - 08:31 AM WHOA! "Can't Get It Out Of My Head" is track two on The Electric Light Orchestra's gorgeous concept album, Eldorado. WOW...a dinner with The Lynnemeister himself! For my Computer Based Art class, I'm making a biographical digital collage--Jeff Lynne is sitting on a chair in the same room as me and Tolkien & my cat. The room also has the ELO Wurlitzer Logo, and text from some of their songs, including the soliliquy from "The Eldorado Overture." from the same album as above. If you EVER need any help with ELO, I'm the man to ask! You check out their lyrics at Spaceport ELO. and a superb collection of midis of almost all their songs at The Official ELO Fan Site. Aaah..mid-eighties, that would have been the albums Balance of Power and Secret Messages (on which my collage is based) Have fun, and let the starlight shine down on you! --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Mudcat Island Folk Festival From: Callie Date: 15 Feb 00 - 08:21 AM What record is that on? I've always kept that in the hard-disk in my brain and thought I should look for it some day. Thanks for the lyrics! Callie (ps: I can't help but having noticed your adoration of Jeff Lynne. We had to write a story in high school about "who would you most like to have dinner with and why" and I wrote about an imaginary dinner with JL, where I asked him all sorts of musical questions and about recording techniques. The teacher wrote "who's Jeff Lynne?" on my story, and my classmates thought I had made him up. It was the mid-eighties and he wasn't exactly top 40 at the time) |
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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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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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: Sorcha Date: 15 Feb 00 - 12:21 AM If ya sing the blues, ya just got to feelin' better. |
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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: 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: 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: Susan A-R Date: 14 Feb 00 - 10:47 PM Oops. |
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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 - 10:41 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: 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: 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 - 09:19 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: 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 - 09:10 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: 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: 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: 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: 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 - 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: 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: 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 - 06:04 PM Sorry, Amos. Not mine. It's by a band called Queen--perhaps you've heard of them? --Mbo |
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