SHIPWRECKED WHISKY    J. GRANT / D. CALLAN

BACK IN 22 I WAS A YOUNG MAN I, REMEMBER THAT NOVEMBER A SHIP STAGGERED IN. CITY OF DRESDEN ON A SOUTH EAST GALE. ROT GUT WHISKY FOR ILLEGAL SALE. RIDIN  LOW AND LOADED, WATER LOGGED AND BLOATED. BARRELS ABOVE BOTTLES BELOW, SHE HIT THE BAR WITH A DEADLY BLOW. YOU COULD HEAR THAT WHISTLE SCREAMING. GOT TO THE BEACH THOUGHT WE WERE DREAMIN .

CHORUS:

OLD CROW SHIP WRECKED WHISKY, THE WHOLE TOWN S SWIMMIN  CAN T GET ENOUGH. IT S A PROHIBITION RESCUE MISSION. EIGHT THOUSAND GALLONS OF THE FINE OLD STUFF. EIGHT THOUSAND GALLONS OF THE FINE OLD STUFF.

SOMEBODY CUT THE PHONE LINE. WE ALL HEADED DOWN TO GRAVELLY BAY. GRABBED AN OLD LIFE BOAT STARTED TO ROW.  PULLIN  HELPLESS BOTTLES FROM THE UNDERTOW. CORBY S SPECIAL SELECTED, COULDN T DRINK ALL WE COLLECTED. WAGONS AND WHEELBARROWS STUCK IN THE SAND, BUGGIES OVERLOADED WITH SWEET CONTRABAND. ALL NIGHT DOWN ON THE SHORE, DRINK SOME HIDE SOME GO BACK FOR MORE.

THE TOWN LOOKED DRY WHEN THE COPS CAME. COULDN T FIND A DROP WE D HIDDEN IT WELL. IN PRIVIES AND PIG PENS STABLES AND STALLS, GUTTERS AND GABLES CELLARS AND WALLS. UNDER PILES OF DIRTY CLOTHES, IN HOLLOWED OUT BIBLES AND SCARE CROWS. UP IN THE STEEPLES AMONGST THE BELLS, IN THE LIBRARIES ALONG THE SHELVES. BEHIND SHELLEY, KEATS AND BYRON, A LITTLE SOMETHING THERE TO RETIRE ON.

THE YEARS HAVE GONE BY AND I AM GROWING OLD, NEVER GOT RICH ON THE WHISKY I STOLE. HERE S MY ADVICE, IF YOUR HIDDIN  BOOZE. DON T GET TOO DRUNK OR YOU JUST MIGHT LOOSE, ALL SENSE OF DIRECTION ALL HOPE OF RECOLLECTION.

EIGHT THOUSAND GALLONS OF THE FINE OLD STUFF.  EIGHT THOUSAND GALLONS OF THE FINE OLD STUFF.

HERSCHEL ISLAND      D. CALLAN

CHORUS: (X2 TO OPEN)

WELL IT’S HEAVE HO THE ANCHOR S OVERBOARD OUT AMONG THE ICE FLOWS WHERE POLAR BEARS ARE LORD. WE LL BE DREAMING OF TAHITI IN OUR ARCTIC MISERY. CAUSE THERE AREN T THAT MANY PALM TREES ON THE COLD KAMCHATKA SEA.

HERE S ONE FOR ME WIFE I LEFT HER FAR BEHIND. NOT MUCH TO LOOK AT BUT DISTANCE CAN BE KIND. SHE S THE ONE I SAILS FOR ME SHELTER FROM THE STORM. A COMFY COSY HARBOUR BUILT TO KEEP YA WARM

HERE S ONE FOR ME MATES A HAULING ON THE SAILS. TO SUMMERS SPENT TOGETHER CHASING AFTER WHALES. FROM COOK TO THE CABIN BOY EVERY MAN IS BRAVE. EVEN THOSE A SLEEPING DOWN BENEATH THE WAVES.

HERE S ON FOR THE SKIPPER HE S A NASTY PIECE OF WORK. SOME WOULD CALL HIM THRIFTY TO ME HE S JUST A BURKE. HE SAYS IT’S CAUSE OF RHEUMATIZ HE ALWAYS SMELLS OF RUM.

BUT IT AIN T JUST THE COLD AIR THAT KEEPS THE BEGGAR NUMB.

NOW HERE S TO HERSCHEL ISLAND YA FROZEN LUMP OF CLAY. TO MANY AN ICE-BOUND WHALER THAT SPENT A WINDLESS DAY. BARE-MASTED SCHOONERS BLASTED BY THE DIN SCREAMIN  LIKE THE BANSHEE WAILING IN THE WIND.

SONGWRITER    J. GRANT, B. WEIRMIER

Down in the Glebe among sexy boutiques, she used to cut hair in a place that was chique.  Light conversation  her daily refrain. Seems most of her clients had candyfloss brains.  Then came the daeath of her great Uncle Rob. He left her a fortune so she quit her job.  She travelled the world hoping to find her creative side, her deeper mind.  On an English canal she saw her dream, a boat called "The Songwriter." Chorus: Songwriter, songwriter riding the waves.  Taking my mind to some other place.  Where the lights on the shore look stronger and brighter from the deck of the boat they call "The Songwriter".
Up in west Yorkshire she found a man whose only ambition was to play in a band.  He'd a fiddle, a banjo and several guitars.  Had years of lessons but he never got far.  She said,  "I don't know maybe you're just afraid what people might see if you were on stage.  Well I know this boat we could offer to buy .  It's a longshot I know, but I'd love to try.  Just you and me on the wild, stormy sea on a boat called "The Songwriter". Chorus
She'll tell you that some schemes are just meant to fail.  "The Songwriter" was not for sale.  So she spent all her money on a place by the sea.  An ancient stone cottage, a quaint B&B. The travellers they come from all over the world. Bright conversation around her swirls. She married the Yorkshireman, now he builds boats.  Models to scale but there's one he loves most.  High on the shelf, he named it himself.  It's called "The Songwriter". Chorus

 
FULLER BRUSH MAN   D. CALLAN

CHORUS:

BAH OOH OOH BAH BA BAH, BAH OOH OOH BAH BAH. BAH OOH OOH BAH, BA BAH-AHH-AHH. BAH OOH OOH BAH BA BAH, BAH OOH OOH BAH BAH. BAH OOH OOH BAH , BA BAH-AHH-AHH

FATHER WAS A FULLER BRUSH MAN TOOK HIS SUIT CASE DOOR TO DOOR. HAD EVERY IMAGINABLE KIND OF BRUSH AND HE KNEW JUST WHAT THEY RE FOR. WELL THE DAY HE MET MY MOMMA, HE SWEPT HER OFF HER FEET.  YA THE WAY THAT MAN COULD PUSH A BROOM WAS REALLY SOMETHING NEAT.

HE HAD BRUSHES MADE OF BRISTLES OF SABLE MINK AND SQUIRREL. WHICH STRANGELY DID RESEMBLE HIS HANDLE BAR MOUSTACHE CURLS. HE WAS A HANDSOME MAN IN A ZOOT SUITE WATCH CHAIN DANGLIN  DOWN. IT S JINGLE SET THE DOGS TO BARK WHEN EVER HE CAME TO TOWN.

WELL KNOCK ON THE DOOR. RING ON THE BELL, MADAME MAY I SHOW YOU MY WARES? I VE GOT EVERY IMAGINABLE KIND OF BRUSH, CHASE AWAY ALL YOUR CARES. FROM DUSTIN  DOWN THAT DRESSER TO BRUSHIN  OF THAT SUIT. EXPECT THE BEST ACCEPT NO LESS TAKE NO SUBSTITUTES.

WELL PROGRESS CLAIMED THE PAINT BRUSH, NY LON REPLACED THE HAIR. MACHINES NOW SLAM TOGETHER THOSE THINGS ONCE MADE WITH CARE. NO ONE GOES FROM DOOR TO DOOR WE VE CHASED THEM ALL AWAY. YEAH LIFE HAD A DIFFERENT QUALITY IN MY FATHER S DAY. YEAH LIFE HAD A DIFFERENT QUALITY IN MY FATHER S DAY.

DONALD AND THE PHANTOM PIPER    D. STONE, J. GRANT

 
FROM SOME WHERE IN FRANCE      D. M. CALLAN,
SR/AR: R. KNECHTEL, AR: J. SINGLETON

UP IN THE ATTIC OF MY GRANDMOTHER'S HOUSE,  THERE'S A TRUNK WITH TREASURES IN STORE. IT HOLDS PICTURES OF YOUNG MEN GROWN DUSTY WITH AGE, GOING OFF TO FIGHT IN A WAR. ALL THE FADED SILK RIBBONS GATHER MEMORIES TOGETHER, ONCE SENT TO ONE LEFT BEHIND.ALL THE STORIES THEY TELL, AREN'T REMEMBERED THAT WELL, FOR THEIR LOST IN THE PASSAGE OF TIME.

CHORUS:  
AND IF THINGS COULD BE DIFFERENT IN THIS WORLD OF CHANGE, WE D WALTZ TO OUR WEDDING DANCE. BUT ALL I CAN SEND YOU ARE WORDS FROM MY HEART IN THESE LETTERS FROM SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE.

JIM WAS ONE YOUNG MAN WHEN HE LEFT THAT FARM, NOT FAR BEYOND THE THIRD LINE. HIS GIRL WAS ADELLE, AND HE LOVED HER SO WELL, SHE LINGERED ON HIS MIND; AND WHILE SO FAR HOME, SO LOST, SO ALONE - HE WROTE TO HER EVERY DAY.  SAVE YOUR KISSES FOR ME, SOMEDAY I'LL BE COMING BACK TO TAKE YOU AWAY.

BUT IN WARS YOUNG MEN DIE LEAVING YOUNG GIRLS CRY AND MEMORIES STORED IN A BOX. UP THE OLD ATTIC STAIRS ONCE IT'S GONE NO ONE CARES, WHAT HIDES BEHIND A LOCK. TILL A COLD RAINY DAY WHEN A CHILD AT PLAY, DISCOVERS JUST BY CHANCE. AFTER EIGHTY LONG YEARS ALL THE LOVE STILL SHINES CLEAR, IN THESE LETTERS FROM SOME WHERE IN FRANCE.

THEY BURIED HIM OUT THERE WITH HER SWEET REPLIES TO THOSE LETTERS........, FROM SOME WHERE IN FRANCE. 

 
QUAN JE TE CHEZ MON PAIRER   (TRAD)

QUAN JE TE CHEZ MON PAIRER, QUAN JE TE CHEZ MON PAIRER. PETIT ET JUNE ETIDIONS, DANS DE NE DAN. PETITE ET JUNE ETIDIONS, DAUNTE DENNAH.

MON VOI TE LA FONTAINA, MON VOI TE LA FONTAINA. POUR ROMPLEU MON CRUCHEON, DANS DE NE DAN. POUR ROMPLEU MON CRUCHEON, DAUNTE DENNAH.

LA FONT TEN ET PRO FONDE, LA FONT TEN ET PRO FONDE. ME SUIS COLOUR OH FONT, DANS DE NE DAN. ME SUIS COLOUR OH FONT, DAUNTE DENNAH.

PAR ICI TE LEA PASSER, PAR ICI TE LEA PASSER. TROIS CAVIELLERH BARON, DANS DE NE DAN.

TROIS CAVIELLERH BARON, DAUNTE DENNAH.

COU DAN-REAH VOUS BELLA, COU DAN-REAH VOUS BELLA. A QUI VOUS TRIER DOU FON, DANS DE NE DAN. A QUI VOUS TRIER DOU FON, DAUNTE DENNAH

TEAR-EH TEAR-EH DE TELLA, TEAR-EH TEAR-EH DE TELLA. A PRESON NEW VOIREN, DANS DE NE DAN. A PRESON NEW VOIREN, DAUNTE DENNAH.

QUAN JE TE CHEZ MON PAIRER, QUAN JE TE CHEZ MON PAIRER. PETIT ET JUNE ETIDIONS, DANS DE NE DAN. PETITE ET JUNE ETIDIONS, DAUNTE DENNAH.

 BURN YE FIDDLES BURN    J. GRANT

FATHER MCKINNON HAD A DREAM, HE HEARD A 1000 VIOLINS. THEY SOUNDED SO OBSCENE, CALLING SOULS TO SIN. THE CONDEMNED BEGAN TO DANCE FORGOT TO WEEP AND GNASH THEIR TEETH. THEIR JOYOUS TRANCE SCANDALIZED THE PRIEST.

CHORUS:  SO BURN YE FIDDLES BURN, BURN YE FIDDLES BURN. BURN YE FIDDLES BURN, BURN YE FIDDLES BURN. FATHER MC KINNONS’ LOOKING FOR KINDLING, BURN YE FIDDLES!

NEXT SUNDAY AT THE MASS HE GAVE A SOLEMN HOMILY, HE SAID THE DEVIL CRAVED TO HEAR THAT FIDDLE DE DIDDLE DE DEE. TO PLAY THE VIOLIN, HE SAID WAS VILE AND COARSE. SCRAPING THE GUTS OF A CAT WITH HAIR FROM THE REAR OF A HORSE.

HE SEARCHED THE PARISH WIDE FROM CELL LOFT AND SPIRE. IN THE FIELD BEHIND THE MANCE HE BUILT A TEN FOOT FIDDLE PYRE; AND WHEN THE PYRE WAS LIT THE AMATTIS’ FLARED UP WELL BUT THE STRADS THEY HISSED AND SPIT, LIKE UNREPENTANT SOULS FROM HELL!

BUT AS THE FIDDLES FLAMED THERE CAME AN IMPISH WIND, THAT FILLED TO POOR PRIESTS’ LUNGS WITH ESSENCE DE VIOLIN. THE PARISH HAS BEEN PURGED OF TAPPING TOE AND HEEL, ENTIRELY EXORCISED OF STRATHBAY, JIG AND REEL. THE PRIEST WHO BREATHED IN DEADLY FIDDLE SMOKE HAS ETCHED UPON HIS SLEEPLESS BRAIN ALL THOSE DREADED FIDDLE NOTES.

ROLL DOWN THE LOGS   J. GRANT

HOLD YOUR FIDDLE LOW, JOE    J. GRANT

When I was just a boy I had a fiddle made of tin.  Sounded like the souls in hell weeping for their sins.  My Grandpa said, "Now keep that thing away from your ear.  It'll lead you to the devil. It'll make you hard of hearing."
Chorus:  Hold your fiddle low, Joe, hold your fiddle low.  Save your jaw for chewing tobaccie,  hold your fiddle low.
My Grandpa taught me how to make my life sweet and long.  He said, "Eat lots of pork rinds, drink tea that's black and strong.  Always ask the women folk 'bout what they know.  'Cept for when you go to bed just keep that kiddle low." Chorus
If there's roosters in your family cockrels in your clan. Struttin' like they know it all, pecking at your plans.  Don't ruffle up your feathers, no need for you to crow.  You can scratch for better things. Just keep that fiddle low. Chorus
If you're looking in the mirror and you see a stranger there with jowls like a hound dog and nose-holes full of hair.  If you're rubbing in the goose grease so you won't look so old, just laugh at your funny face and keep that fiddle low. Chorus
Life is not a contest where you have to be the  best.  Don't climb up on the manure pile to be higher than the rest.  Just build yourself a cabin by the side of the road.  Play a tune for all the people and keep that fiddle low.

SMUGGLER’S SONG      R. KIPLING, AR: D. CALLAN

     If you wake at midnight to hear the horses beat, don't go drawing back the blinds, gawking in the street. Them that asks not questions isn't told a lie. Watch the wall my darling while the gentlemen goes by. 
     Four and twenty ponies trotting through the dark with brandy for my parson and nankin' for his clark. Laces for m' laddie and letters for a spy. Watch the wall my darlin' while the gentle men goes by.
     Runnin' round the wood lot if you chance to spy. Little barrles ropped and tarred all full of brandied wine. Don't you call to come and look or use them for your play. Put the brushwood back again they'll be gone next day.
     If you see a stable door settin' open wide. If you see a tired horse lyin' down inside. If your mother mends a coat all cut about and tore. Don't you ask he whose it is or what it's use is for.
     If you see the King's good men all dressed in blue and red, you be careful what you say and mindful what is said. If they calls you pretty names and chucks you neath the chin. Don't you say where no one is or yet where no one's been.
     if you do as you've been told there might be a chance, you'll be getting a dainty dollie all the way from France. With a gown all lacey and a velvet hood. A present from the gentle men for those what has been good.

Repeat Verse 2 

WALKING WITH SARAH   D. CALLAN, S. CALLAN & J. SINGLETON

HOPE IS WALKING WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. HOPE IS WALKING WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. WAY UP NORTH TO THE PROMISED LAND, EVERY BODY WALKING THERE HAND IN HAND. HOPE IS WALKING WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS

FAITH IS WALKING WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. FAITH IS WALKING WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. WAY UP NORTH TO THE PROMISED LAND, EVERY BODY WALKING THERE HAND IN HAND. FAITH IS WALKING WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. 

COURAGE WALKS WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. COURAGE WALKS WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. WAY UP NORTH TO THE PROMISED LAND, EVERY BODY WALKING THERE HAND IN HAND. COURAGE WALKS WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS

JESUS WALKS WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. JESUS WALKS WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. WAY UP NORTH TO THE PROMISED LAND, EVERY BODY WALKING THERE HAND IN HAND. JESUS WALKS WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS

WE ALL WALK WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. WE ALL WALK WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS. WAY UP NORTH TO THE PROMISED LAND, EVERY BODY WALKING THERE HAND IN HAND. WE ALL WALK WITH SARAH, LEADING ALL THE CHILDREN THROUGH THE WOODS.    

SELKIRK SETTLERS LULLABY    J. GRANT

SLEEP WEE LADDIE AS THE WILD WINDS BLOW. BORN IN WINTER ON A BED OF SNOW. CLOSE YOUR EYES NOW AND DON’T YOU WAKE. SLEEP WEE LADDIE TILL THE NEW DAY BREAKS. HUSH A BYE BUSH A BYE, HUSH A BYE MY BONNIE WEE CHILD. HUSH A BYE, HUSH A BYE MY BONNIE WEE CHILD.

MAY YOU NEVER BE PUSHED FROM THIS NEW LAND NOR FEEL THE LANDLORD’S HEAVY HAND. CLOSE YOUR EYES AND DON’T YOU WAKE, SLEEP WEE LADDIE TILL THE NEW DAY BREAKS. HUSH A BYE BUSH A BYE, HUSH A BYE MY BONNIE WEE CHILD. HUSH A BYE, HUSH A BYE MY BONNIE WEE CHILD.

SLEEP WEE LADDIE AS THE WILD WINDS BLOW, BORN IN WINTER ON A BED OF SNOW. CLOSE YOUR EYES NOW AND DON’T YOU WAKE, SLEEP WEE LADDIE TILL THE NEW DAY BREAKS. HUSH A BYE BUSH A BYE, HUSH A BYE MY BONNIE WEE CHILD. HUSH A BYE, HUSH A BYE MY BONNIE WEE CHILD.