HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!

[HEyHEY]

Sing along or at least post another good folk tune... prefereably Irish or Atlantic Canadian.


Oh, the year was 1778, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
A letter of marque come from the king,
To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen,

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

Oh, Elcid Barrett cried the town, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
For twenty brave men all fishermen who
would make for him the Antelope's crew

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
She'd a list to the port and and her sails in rags
And the cook in scuppers with the staggers and the jags

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

On the King's birthday we put to sea, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
We were 91 days to Montego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

On the 96th day we sailed again, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
When a bloody great Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four pounders we made to fight

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Yankee lay low down with gold, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
She was broad and fat and loose in the stays
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

Then at length we stood two cables away, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
Our cracked four pounders made an awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Antelope shook and pitched on her side, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs
And the Maintruck carried off both me legs

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

So here I lay in my 23rd year, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
It's been 6 years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier

sing along duers!

[mcscajun]

1. Ah! The late, great, Stan Rogers.

How I miss him.

White Collar Holler

Well, I rise up every morning at a quarter to eight
Some woman who's my wife tells me not to be late
I kiss the kids goodbye, I can't remember their names
And week after week, it's always the same

And it's Ho, boys, can't you code it, and program it right
Nothing ever happens in this life of mine
I'm hauling out the data on the Xerox line

Then it's code in the data, give the keyboard a punch
Then cross-correlate and break for some lunch
Correlate, tabulate, process and screen
Program, printout, regress to the mean

Then it's home again, eat again, watch some TV
Make love to my woman at ten-fifty-three
I dream the same dream when I'm sleeping at night
I'm soaring over hills like an eagle in flight

Someday I'm gonna give up all the buttons and things
I'll punch that time clock till it can't ring
Burn up my necktie and set myself free
Cause no one's gonna fold, bend or mutilate me.

[HEyHEY]

2. OR this classic

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin' Street
A gentleman, Irish, mighty odd;
He had a brogue both rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod.
Now Tim had a sort of the tipplin' way
With a love of the whiskey he was born
And to help him on with his work each day
He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every morn.
Chorus:
Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner
Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn't it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake!

2. One mornin' Tim was feelin' full
His head was heavy which made him shake;
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake.
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed,
A gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head.
Chorus:

3. His friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch,
First they brought in tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.
Biddy O'Brien began to bawl
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
"O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"
"Arragh, hold your gob" said Paddy McGhee!
Chorus:

4. Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
"O Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy she gave her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawlin' on the floor.
And then the war did soon engage
'Twas woman to woman and man to man,
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began.
Chorus:

5. Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
When a noggin of whiskey flew at him,
It missed, and falling on the bed
The liquor scattered over Tim!
The corpse revives! See how he raises!
Timothy rising from the bed,
Says,"Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
Thanum an Dhul! Do you thunk I'm dead?"
Chorus:

[mcscajun]

3. One of my favorite tunes sung by The Clancy Brothers & Tommy Makem

way back when... :)


BTW, it's your fault now; I've put in the Stan Rogers' CD "Between the Breaks...Live!"

:)

[Hand]

4. Here's one--"The Ballad of the Rover"

Come all you jolly sailor lads, that love the cannon's roar,
Your good ship on the briny wave, your lass and glass ashore,
How Nova Scotia's sons can fight you presently shall hear,
And of gallant captain Godfrey in the Rover privateer

She was a brig of Liverpool, of just a hundred tons;
She had a crew of fifty-five and mounted fourteen guns;
When south against King George's foes she first began to steer,
A smarter craft ne'er floated than the Rover privateer.

Five months our luck held up and down the Spanish Main;
And many a prize we overhauled and sent to port again;
Until the Spaniards laid their plans with us to interfere,
And stop the merry cruizing of the Rover privateer.

The year was eighteen hundred, September tenth the day,
As off Cape Blanco in a calm all motionless we lay,
When the schooner Santa Rita and three gunboats did appear,
A-sweeping down to finish off the Rover privateer.

With muskets and with pistols we enaged them as they came,
Till they closed in port and starboard to play the boarding game;
Then we manned the sweeps and spun her round without a thought of fear
And raked the Santa Rita from the Rover privateer

At once we spun her back again; the gunboats were too close;
But our gunners they were ready, and they gave the Dons their dose.
They kept their distance after that and soon away did sheer,
And left the Santa Rita to the Rover privateer.

We fought her for three glasses and then we went aboard,
Our gallant captain heading us with pistol and with sword;
It did not take us very long her bloody decks to clear,
And down came the Spanish colours to the Rover privateer

We brought our prizes safe to port -- we never lost a man;
There never was a luckier cruise since cruising first began;
We fought and beat four Spaniards -- now did you ever hear
The like of Captain Godfrey and the Rover privateer?

ON EDIT: Many weird typos. Arrh, ye scurvy cut an' paste!

[Hand]

5. Here's the melody on a MP3!

Barrett's Privateers

[saltpoint]

6. What a damn pleasure to come upon a Stan Rogers song --

-- on DU just now.

Great, great song.

Thanks for this post.

[TrustingDog]

7. wohoo, love to hear it again.

was fortunate for a short time to have an Irish pub right round the corner to hear this song by the few bands they could afford but very well delivered.

awwww. I miss that place so much. Unfortunately some drunk in a half ton truck semi demolished it and it weren't worth rebuilding for the landlord. argh. It was Such a great place, a living room with people playing music, neighbours getting together, in a place that I didn't have to clean up after. ::cries::

[TrustingDog]

8. Sinead O'Connor

THIS IS TO MOTHER YOU

This is to mother you
To comfort you and get you through
Through when your nights are lonely
Through when your dreams are only blue
This is to mother you

This is to be with you
To hold you and to kiss you too
For when you need me I will do
What your own mother didn't do
Which is to mother you

All the pain that you have known
All the violence in your soul
All the 'wrong' things you have done
I will take from you when I come
All mistakes made in distress
All your unhappiness
I will take away with my kiss, yes
I will give you tenderness

For child I am so glad I've found you
Although my arms have always been around you
Sweet bird although you did not see me
I saw you

And I'm here to mother you
To comfort you and get you through
Through when your nights are lonely
Through when your dreams are only blue
This is to mother you

[KG]

9. Garnett's Homemade Beer

Garnett's Homemade Beer
(Ian Robb)

1. Oh the year was nineteen seventy-eight,
(How I wish I'd never tried it now,)
When a score of men were turned quite green
By the scummiest ale you've ever seen

Chorus:
God damn them all,
I was told this beer was worth its weight in gold
We'd feel no pain, shed no tears,
But it's a foolish man who shows no fear
At a glass of Garnett's homemade beer.

2. Now Garnett Rogers cried the town
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
For 20 brave men all masochists who
Would taste for him his homemade brew.

God damn them all,
I was told this beer was worth its weight in gold
We'd feel no pain, shed no tears,
But it's a foolish man who shows no fear
At a glass of Garnett's homemade beer.

3. This motley crew were a sickening sight
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
There was caveman Dave with his eyes in bags
He'd a hard-boiled liver and the staggers and jags.


God damn them all,
I was told this beer was worth its weight in gold
We'd feel no pain, shed no tears,
But it's a foolish man who shows no fear
At a glass of Garnett's homemade beer.

4. We hadn't been there but an hour or two
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
When a voice said "Give me some homemade brew"
As steeleyed Stan hove into view.

God damn them all,
I was told this beer was worth its weight in gold
We'd feel no pain, shed no tears,
But it's a foolish man who shows no fear
At a glass of Garnett's homemade beer.

5. Now steeleyed Stan was a frightening man
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
He was eight foot tall and four foot wide
Said "pass that jug or I'll tan your hide.

God damn them all,
I was told this beer was worth its weight in gold
We'd feel no pain, shed no tears,
But it's a foolish man who shows no fear
At a glass of Garnett's homemade beer.

6. Stan took one sip and pitched on his side
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
Garnett was smashed with a cupful of dregs
And his breath set fire to both me legs.

God damn them all,
I was told this beer was worth its weight in gold
We'd feel no pain, shed no tears,
But it's a foolish man who shows no fear
At a glass of Garnett's homemade beer.

7. Now here I am with my 23rd beer
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
It's six long years since I felt this way
On the night before my wedding day.

God damn them all,
I was told this beer was worth its weight in gold
We'd feel no pain, shed no tears,
But it's a foolish man who shows no fear
At a glass of Garnett's homemade beer.


Garnett is Stan Rogers bro.

[greatauntoftriplets]

10. The Mary Ellen Carter....

She went down last October in a pouring driving rain.
The skipper, he'd been drinking and the Mate, he felt no pain.
Too close to Three Mile Rock, and she was dealt her mortal blow,
And the Mary Ellen Carter settled low.
There were five of us aboard her when she finally was awash.
We'd worked like hell to save her, all heedless of the cost.
And the groan she gave as she went down, it caused us to proclaim
That the Mary Ellen Carter would rise again.

Well, the owners wrote her off; not a nickel would they spend.
She gave twenty years of service, boys, then met her sorry end.
But insurance paid the loss to them, they let her rest below.
Then they laughed at us and said we had to go.
But we talked of her all winter, some days around the clock,
For she's worth a quarter million, afloat and at the dock.
And with every jar that hit the bar, we swore we would remain
And make the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.

Rise again, rise again, that her name not be lost
To the knowledge of men.
Those who loved her best and were with her till the end
Will make the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.

All spring, now, we've been with her on a barge lent by a friend.
Three dives a day in hard hat suit and twice I've had the bends.
Thank God it's only sixty feet and the currents here are slow
Or I'd never have the strength to go below.
But we've patched her rents, stopped her vents, dogged hatch and
porthole down.
Put cables to her, 'fore and aft and birded her around.
Tomorrow, noon, we hit the air and then take up the strain.
And watch the Mary Ellen Carter Rise Again.

For we couldn't leave her there, you see, to crumble into scale.
She'd saved our lives so many times, living through the gale
And the laughing, drunken rats who left her to a sorry grave
They won't be laughing in another day. . .
And you, to whom adversity has dealt the final blow
With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go
Turn to, and put out all your strength of arm and heart and brain
And like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.

Rise again, rise again - though your heart it be broken
And life about to end
No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend.
Like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.