Lanigan's Ball
From: Songs of Ireland
words and music Traditional
In the town of Athol one Jeremy Lanigan
Battered away 'til he hadn't a pound.
His father died and made him a man again
Left him a farm and ten acres of ground.
Myself to be sure got free invitation,
For all the boys and girls I might ask,
And without being asked both friends and relations
Danced like bees 'round the sweet cask.
There were lashings of punch and wine for the ladies,
Potatoes and cakes; bacon and tea,
Nolans, Dolans, all the O'Gradys
Courting the girls and dancing away.
Songs they went 'round as plenty as water,
"The harp that once sounded in Tara's old hall,"
"Sweet Nelly Gray" and "The Rat Catcher's Daughter,"
Singing together at Lanigan's Ball.
They were doing all kinds of nonsensical polkas
All 'round the room in a whirligig.
Julia and I, soon banished their nonsense
And tipped them the twist of a reel and a jig.
How the girls they all got mad at me
For they thought the ceiling would fall.
I spent six months at Brooks' Academy
Learning to dance for Lanigan's Ball.
Six long months I spent up in Dublin,
Six long months doing nothing at all,
Six long months I spent up in Dublin,
Learning to dance for Lanigan's Ball.
She stepped out and I stepped in again,
I stepped out and she stepped in again,
She stepped out and I stepped in again,
Learning new steps for Lanigan's Ball.
The boys were merry, the girls all hearty
Dancing around in couples and groups,
An accident happened, young Terrance McCarthy
He put his foot through miss Finnerty's hoops.
The craythur she fainted, and roared, "Bloody Murder,"
Sent for her brothers and gathered them all.
Carmody swore he'd go no further
'Til he had revenge at Lanigan's Ball.
In the midst of the row miss Kerrigan fainted,
Her cheeks at the time as red as a rose.
Some of the lads declared she was painted,
She took a small drop too much, I suppose.
Her sweetheart, Ned Morgan, so powerful and able,
When he saw his colleen stretched out by the wall,
Tore the left leg from under the table
And smashed all the Chaneys at Lanigan's Ball.
Boys, oh boys, 'twas then there were runctions.
I got a kick from big Phelim McHugh.
I soon replied to his introduction
And kicked up a terrible hullabaloo.
Casey, the piper, was near being strangled.
Squeezed up his pipes, chanters and all.
The girls and boys they got all entangled
And that put an end to Lanigan's Ball.
The Lusty Young Smith
From: A Faire To Remember
words and music traditional
A lusty young smith at his vice stood a-filing.
His hammer laid by but his forge still aglow.
When to him a buxom young damsel came smiling,
And asked if to work in her forge he would go.
Rum, rum, rum. Rum, rum, rum.
In and out. In and out. Ho!
"I will," said the smith, and they went off together,
Along to the young damsel's forge they did go.
They stripped to go to it, 'twas hot work and hot weather.
They kindled a fire and she soon made him blow.
Her husband, she said, no good work could afford her.
His strength and his tools were worn out long ago.
The smith said "Well mine are in very good order,
And I am now ready my skill for to show."
Red hot grew his iron, as both did desire,
And he was too wise not to strike while 'twas so.
Said she, "What I get I get out of the fire,
So prithee, strike home and redouble the blow."
Six times did his iron, by vigorous heating,
Grow soft in her forge in a minute or so,
But as often was hardened, still beating and beating,
But the more it was softened, it hardened more slow.
When the smith rose to go, quoth the dame full of sorrow:
"Oh, what would I give could my husband do so.
Good lad with your hammer come hither tomorrow,
But pray could you use it once more ere you go!"
All For Me Grog
words and music Traditional
Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog
It's all for me beer and tobacco
For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin
Far across the western ocean I must wander
Where are me boots, me noggin', noggin' boots?
They're all gone for beer and tobacco
For the heels they are worn out and the toes are kicked about
And the soles are looking out for better weather
Where is me shirt, my noggin', noggin' shirt?
It's all gone for beer and tobacco
For the collar is all worn, and the sleeves they are all torn
And the tail is looking out for better weather
I'm sick in the head and I haven't been to bed
Since first I came ashore with me slumber
For I spent all me dough on the lassies movin' slow
Far across the Western Ocean I must wander
Where is me bed, me noggin' noggin bed
It's all gone for beer and tobacco
Well I lent it to a whore and now the sheets are all tore
And the springs are looking out for better whether.
Where is me wench, me noggin' noggin' whence
She's all gone for beer and tobacco
Well her (clap) is all worn out and her (clap) is knocked about
And her (clap) is looking out for better whether.
(altered that epicurean philosophy a mite)Hey, Sharon, Welcome back, gal. I just discovered that the song I played was from Ghost Busters. I think it may be the one that made the Lady with the Lamp walk.
Got a message from my Irish friend that a kid was suspended from school because he wouldn't cut his hair. Wow!
There are many good songs from the rock opera "Hair", so let's consider this song, folks.
Hair
Intro
She asks me why, why I'm just a hairy guy.
I'm hairy noon and nighty night night, my hair is a fright.
I'm hairy high and low, but don't ask me why, cause he don't know.
It's not for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead.
Darlin'
Give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair.
Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen.
Give me down to there hair, shoulder length or longer hair
Here baby, there, momma, ev'rywhere, daddy, daddy.
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair. Flow it, show it, long as I can grow it, my hair.
I'd let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees, give a home to the fleas in my hair.
A home for the fleas, a hive for the buzzin' bees,
A nest for birds, there ain't no words for the beauty, the splendor, the wonder of my:
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it, long as I can grow it, my hair
I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy, snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty,
Oily, greasy, fleecy, shining, streaming, gleaming, flaxen, waxen,
Knotted, polka dotted, twisted, beaded, braided,
Powdered, flowered and confettied, bangled, tangled, spangled and spahettied.
Oh say can you see, rise if you can,
And my hair's too short
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair.Flow it, show it,
Long as God can grow it, my hair
They'll be ga-ga at the go-go when they see me in my toga,
My toga meade of blond, brilliantined, biblical hair.
My hair like Jesus wore it, Halleluja I adore it, Halleluja Mary loved her son,why don't my mother love me?
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair
Folw it, show it
Long as God can grow it, my hair
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it, my hair
