Song Lyrics
QUARE BUNGLE RYE
Jack was a sailor who roamed downed the town
He met with a damsel who skipped up and down
Says the damsel to Jack, as she passed him by
"Would you care for to purchase some quare bungle rye." Rad-dee-rye,
Fol-da-diddle-rye rad-dee-rye, rad-dee-rye
Now says Jack to himself, "Now what can this be,
But the finest of whiskey from far Germany."
"Smuggled up in a basket and sold on the sly,
And the name that it goes by is quare bungle rye." Rad-dee-rye,
Fol-da-diddle-rye rad-dee-rye, rad-dee-rye
Jack gave her a pound and he thought nothing strange
Says she, "Hold now me basket, while I run for your change."
He took a look in the basket, a child he did spy
"Ah, be damn it," says Jack, "this is quare bungle rye." Rad-dee-rye,
Fol-da-diddle-rye rad-dee-rye, rad-dee-rye
To get the child christened was Jack's next intent
To get the child christened to the Parson he went
Says the Parson to Jack, "Now, what will he go by?"
"Ah, be damn it," says Jack, "call him quare bungle rye." Rad-dee-rye,
Fol-da-diddle-rye rad-dee-rye, rad-dee-rye
Says the Parson to Jack, "That's a very quare name."
"Ah, be damn it," says Jack, "'tis a quare way he came."
"Smuggled up in a basket and sold on the sly,
And the name that he'll go by is quare bungle rye." Rad-dee-rye,
Fol-da-diddle-rye rad-dee-rye, rad-dee-rye
Come all you young sailors that roam down the town
Beware of those damsels that skip up and down
Beware of those damsels as they pass you by
Or else they might pawn on you quare bungle rye, rad-dee-rye,
Fol-da-diddle-rye rad-dee-rye, rad-dee-rye
THE QUEEN OF ARGYLE
(Andy M. Stewart)
Gentlemen it is me duty to inform you of one beauty
Though I'd ask of you a favour not to seek her for a while
Though I own she is a creature of character and feature
No words can paint the picture of the queen of all Argyle
Chorus:
And if you could have seen her there boys, if you had just been there
The swan was in her movements and the marvel in her smile
All the roses in the garden they bow and ask her pardon
For not one could match the beauty of the Queen of all Argyle
On the evening that I mentioned I passed with light intention
Through a part of our dear country known for beauty and for style
In the place of noble thinkers of scholars and great drinkers
But above them all for splendour shone the Queen of all Argyle
Chorus:
And if you could have seen her there boys, if you had just been there
The swan was in her movements and the marvel in her smile
All the roses in the garden they bow and ask her pardon
For not one could match the beauty of the Queen of all Argyle
So my lads I needs must leave you my intentions no' to grieve you
Nor indeed would I deceive you oh I'll see you in a while
I must find some way to gain her to court her and attain her
I fear my heart's in danger from the Queen of all Argyle
Chorus:
And if you could have seen her there boys, if you had just been there
The swan was in her movements and the marvel in her smile
All the roses in the garden they bow and ask her pardon
For not one could match the beauty of the Queen of all Argyle
RAGLAN ROAD
(Patrick Kavanagh)
On Raglan Road of an autumn day I saw her fist and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue
I saw the danger and I passed along the enchanted way
And I said let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day
On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of a deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion's play
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay
Oh I loved too much and by such by such is happiness thrown away
I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret signs
That's known to the artists who have know the true gods of sound and stone
And words and tint without stint, I gave her poems to say
With her own name there and her own dark hair, like clouds over fields of may
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet I see her walking now
Away from me so hurriedly my reason must allow
That I had loved not as I should a creature made of clay
When the angel woes the clay he'll lose his wings at the dawn of day
RAILWAY HOTEL
We went to the room and we bolted the door
The bass from the juke box was coming through the floor
And out through the walls we could still hear the roar
Of the trains
Was this all the comfort we got for our sins
No candles, no waiters, no soft violins
A dirty electric convector plugged in
To the mains
Chorus:
I wanted much more for the first night with you
But the railway hotel was the best I could do
I knew the Savoy would have suited you well
But the best I could do was the railway hotel
Away in the sky was the lights were legit
Burning in the night like a slow cigarette
The lamp in the street threw a soft silhouette
On the wall
Chorus:
I wanted much more for the first night with you
But the railway hotel was the best I could do
I knew the Savoy would have suited you well
But the best I could do was the railway hotel
Although it was crumbling and run down and dead
The chair, a sink and an old single bed
The love that began and the things that we said
I recall
Chorus:
I wanted much more for the first night with you
But the railway hotel was the best I could do
I knew the Savoy would have suited you well
But the best I could do was the railway hotel
THE RAKES OF MALLOW
Beauing, belling, dancing, singing, Breaking windows, damning, sinking,
Ever raking, never thinking, live the Rakes of Mallow.
Spending faster than it comes, beating Bawds and Whores and Duns,
Bacchus' true begotten sons, live the Rakes of Mallow.
One time nought but claret drinking, then like politicians thinking,
To raise the sinking-fund when sinking, live the Rakes of Mallow.
One time flush of money store, then as any poet poor,
Kissing Queens, and then a W--re, Live the Rakes of Mallow.
When at home with dada dying, still for Mallow waters crying,
But when there, good claret plying, live the Rakes of Mallow.
Living short, but merry lives, going where the D---l drives,
Keeping Misses, but no Wives, live the Rakes of Mallow.
Racking tenants, stewards teizing, swiftly spending, slowly raising,
Wishing to spend all our days, in raking thus at Mallow.
Thus to end a raking life, we grow sober, take a Wife,
Ever after live in strife, wish again for Mallow.
THE RAMBLES OF SPRING
(Tommy Makem)
There's a fierce and wintry breeze, blowing through the budding trees
And I button up me coat to keep me warm
But the days are on the mend and I'm on the road again
With me fiddle snuggled close beneath me arm
Chorus:
I've a fine felt hat and a strong pair of brogues
I have rosin in me pocket for me bow
And me fiddle strings are and I've learned a tune or two
And I'm well prepared to ramble and must go
I'm as happy as a king when I catch a breath of spring
And the grass is turning green as winter ends
And the geese are on the wing and thrushes start to sing
And I'm headed down the road to see my friend
Chorus
I have friends in every town as I ramble up and down
Making music at the markets and the fairs
To the donkeys and the creels and the farmers making deals
And the yellow headed tinker selling wares
Chorus
Here's a health to one and all, to the big and to the small
To the rich and poor alike and foe and friend
And when we return again, may our foes have turned to friends
And may peace and joy be with you until then
Chorus
Chorus
RAMBLIN' GAMBLIN' WILLIE
(Bob Dylan)
Come around you rovin' gamblers a story we will tell
About the greatest gambler you all should know him well
His name was Willie Connolly and he gambled all his life
He had twenty-seven children and he never had a wife
Chorus:
And it's ride Willie, ride, roll Willie roll
Where ever you're a gamblin' now nobody really knows
Sailin' down the Mississippi to the town of New Orleans
There was a famous card game on the Jackson River Queen
"I've come to win some money," old gamblin' Willie said
When the game was ended up the whole damn boat was his
Chorus
Up in the Rocky Mountains in a town called Cripple Creek
They had an all night poker game and it lasted about a week
Nine hundred miners came to lay their money down
When Willie finally left the room he owned the whole damn town
Chorus
Now Willie had a heart of gold and this I know is true
He supported all his children and all their mothers too
He wore no rings or fancy things like other gamblers wore
He spread his money far and wide to help the sick and poor
Chorus
It was late one fateful evening as they played a poker game
A man lost all his money he said Willie was to blame
He shot poor Willie through the heart, it was a tragic fate
When Willie's card fell on the floor they were aces back with eights
Chorus
So all you rovin' gamblers wherever you might be
The moral of this story is very plain to see
Make your money while you can before you have to stop
For when you pull that dead man's hand
Your gamblin' days are up
Chorus
RAMBLIN' ROVER
(Andy M. Stewart)
Chorus:
There's sober men a plenty and drunkards barely twenty
Men of over ninety who have never yet kissed a girl
Give a ramblin' rover, from Orkney down to Dover
We'll roam the country over and together face the world
There are many who fain enjoyment from merciless employment
Their ambition was this deployment from the moment they left the school
They save and scrap and ponder, while the rest go out and squander
See the world and rove and wander and they're happier as a rule
Chorus
I've been through all the nations, found delight in all creations
I've enjoyed a wee sensation when the company did prove fine
When parting was no pleasure, I drank another measure
For the good friends that we treasure for they always are on my mind
Chorus
When you're bent with arthritis, your bowels have got colitis
You've gallop and bollocitus and you're thinkin' it's time you died
You've been a man of action and you're lying there in traction
You can gain some satisfaction, "Jesus, at least we tried."
Chorus
Repeat Chorus
RANTIN’ ROVIN’ ROBIN
There was a lad was born in Kyle, but whatn'a day, o' whatn'a style
I doot it's hardly worth the while tae be sae nice wi' Robin
Chorus:
For Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' rantin' rovin',
Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' Robin.
Oor Monarch's hindmost year but ane, was five and twenty days begun'
’Twas then a blast o' Januar' win' blew hansel in on Robin.
Chorus:
For Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' rantin' rovin',
Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' Robin.
The gossip keekit in his loof, quo' she, "Wha' lives shall see the proof,
This waly boy will be nae coof; I think we'll ca' him Robin".
Chorus:
For Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' rantin' rovin',
Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' Robin.
He'll hae misfortunes great and sma' but aye a heart abune them a'
He'll be a credit tae us a'; we'll a' be prood o' Robin.
Chorus:
For Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' rantin' rovin',
Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' Robin.
But sure as three times three mak' nine, I see by ilka score and line,
This chap will dearly like oor kin' so leeze me on thee, Robin.
Chorus:
For Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' rantin' rovin',
Robin was a rovin' boy, a rantin' rovin' Robin.
THE RARE OLD MOUNTAIN DEW
Let the grasses grow and the waters flow in a free and easy way
Just give me enough of the fine old stuff that's brewed near Galway Bay
Come gougers all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too
We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip of the rare old mountain dew
Chorus:
Skid-ree Idle-diddle dum skid-ree Idle-diddle dum
Skid-ree Idle-dum diddle dum day
Skid-ree Idle-diddle dum skid-ree Idle-diddle dum
Skid-ree Idle-dum diddle dum day
There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill, and smoke twirls up to the sky
For the smoke and the smell, its plan to tell that there's poteen brewing near by
It fills the air, with an odor rare, and betwixt both me and you
When home you stroll, you can take a bowl, or a bucket of the mountain dew
Chorus:
Skid-ree Idle-diddle dum skid-ree Idle-diddle dum
Skid-ree Idle-dum diddle dum day
Skid-ree Idle-diddle dum skid-ree Idle-diddle dum
Skid-ree Idle-dum diddle dum day
Now learned men who use the pen, have written their praises high
That sweet poteen from Ireland green, distilled from wheat and rye
Throw away your pills; it will cure all ills, of the pagan, the Christian or Jew
Take off your coat and grease your throat, with the real old mountain dew
Chorus:
Skid-ree Idle-diddle dum skid-ree Idle-diddle dum
Skid-ree Idle-dum diddle dum day
Skid-ree Idle-diddle dum skid-ree Idle-diddle dum
Skid-ree Idle-dum diddle dum day
RATCLIFF HIGHWAY
As I was a-walking down London, through Wapping to Ratcliffe Highway,
I chanced to step into an alehouse to spend a long night and a day.
A young doxy came rolling up to me and asked if I'd money to sport.
A bottle of wine, change a guinea, I quickly replied that's the sort.'
The bottle was placed on the table with glasses for every one;
When I asked for the change of my guinea she gave me the verse of a song.
The old woman she flew in a passion, and placed her two hands on her hip,
Saving: 'Young man, you don't know our fashion. You think you're on board of your ship.'
'If that is your fashion, to rob me, it's a fashion I don't much admire.
So tip me the change of my guinea, or a broadside into you I'll fire.'
The bottle that stood on the table I quick at her head did let fly,
And down on the ground she did tumble and loudly for mercy did cry.
The gold watch that hung on the mantel I into my pocket did slip;
And, darn my old shoes, didn't I trick her, and soon got aboard of my ship.
Our anchor being weighed at our bow, boys, our topsails being well sheeted home,
We soon bid adieu to fair London, and all the flash girls in the town.
A REASON FOR IT ALL
(Eric Bogle)
Summer smiling on the city, it's another lovely day in Sydney
Sunshine pouring down like honey in a golden water fall
But in the room where Claire is dying, no sunshine sends the shadows flying
No children gather round her crying there's no one there at all
Except perhaps for the man who sees each little sparrow fall
Don't talk to me 'bout lonely souls crying
Dark quiet rooms and old people dying
I don't want to hear, I don't want to hear it at all
Tired old people die alone every day
Don't blame me I didn't make it that way
That's just how it is don't look for no reason at all
Winter weepin' on the city a wet and windy day in Sydney
Raindrops fallin' fat and heavy down Claire's window pane
Disturbs the rats as they are feedin', back to their nest they all go creepin'
Leavin' Claire alone again . . . it's been a long and lonely time since Claire could hear the rain
Don't talk to me about the meaning of
Don't sing your songs that cut like a knife
I don't want to hear, I don't want to hear it at all
Lonely old people ain't my concern
From dust we come, to dust we return
And that's all there is, don't look for a reason for it all
Springtime's come at last to Sydney the flowers are bloomin' in the city
In all their multi-colored glory they rise to meet the year
Memories in shame recallin' footsteps on the front porch fallin'
Voices through the window callin' "Is anybody there?"
Claire Campbell's lost and lonely soul is a long, long way from here
Don't talk to me about life's seasons
Don't ask me for answers, don't ask me for reasons
I don't want to hear, I don't want to hear it at all
From the moment we're born we start to die
And a man can go crazy if he keeps askin' why
That's just how it is; don't look for a reason for it all
Can't you understand what I'm tryin' to say
There must be a reason, there must be a way
To make some sense of it, to try to find a reason for it all
We're not born just so we can die
There must be an answer, and we've got to try
To make some sense of it, to try to find a reason for it all
THE RECRUITING SERGEANT
A recruiting sergeant come through the streets of Rochester
Home from the wars in the low country
And he sang as he marched and he played upon his kettle drum
Who'll be a soldier for Marlborough and me
Who'll be a soldier, who'll be a soldier
Who'll be a soldier for Marlborough and me
And he sang as he marched and he played upon his kettle drum
Who'll be a soldier for Marlborough and me
For the Queen she has ordered fresh troupes for the continent
To fight 'gainst the French in the low country
So if you be rover all in a scarlet uniform
Come be a soldier for Marlborough and me
Come be a soldier, Come be a soldier for Marlborough and me,
Come be a soldier for Marlborough and me
So if you be rover all in a scarlet uniform
Come be a soldier for Marlborough and me
Oh, not I said the butcher, not I said the mason
Most of the people they would agree
To be paid in the powder and rattle of the cannon ball
Wages for soldiers for Marlborough and thee
Wages for soldiers, Wages for soldiers,
Wages for soldiers for Marlborough and thee
To be paid in the powder and rattle of the cannon ball
Wages for soldiers for Marlborough and thee
"Ah I," said the young man, "have long endured the Parish dues
No more charity for the likes of me
Starvation and danger, they shall be my destiny
I'll take the Queen's shilling for Marlborough and thee
I'll take the Queen's shilling; I'll take the Queen's shilling,
I'll take the Queen's shilling for Marlborough and thee
Starvation and danger, they shall be my destiny
I'll take the Queen's shilling for Marlborough and thee
So forty recruits marched through the streets of Rochester
Bound for the wars in the low country
And they sang as they marched through those crowded streets of Rochester
Who'll be a soldier for Marlborough and me
Who'll be a soldier, who'll be a soldier
Who'll be a soldier for Marlborough and me
And they sang as they marched through those crowded streets of Rochester
Who'll be a soldier for Marlborough and me
THE RED ROSE CAFE
Oh, they come from the farms and the factories too
And they all soon forget who they are
The cares of the day are soon washed away
As they sit at a stool by the bar
The girl with green eyes in the Rolling Stone shirt
Doesn't look like she works on the land
The man on the end is a very good friend
Of a man who sells cars second hand
Chorus:
Down at the Red Rose Cafe, in the harbor
There by the port just outside Amsterdam
Everyone shares in the songs and the laughter
Everyone there is so happy to be there
The salesmen relax with a few pints of beer
They try and not speak about trade
The poet won't write any verses tonight
But he may sing a sweet serenade
The great tarot man, the piano will play
All the songs that you're wanting to hear
And the pretty young thing doesn't know how to sing
But the customers give her a cheer
Outside in the real world the rage is still on
It's all gone a little bit mad
Now in circles we go so it's good to know
Of a place where good times can be had
So pull up a chair and forget about life
It's a good thing to do now and then
And if you like it here I have an idea
Tomorrow we'll all meet again
Chorus:
Down at the Red Rose Cafe, in the harbor
There by the port just outside Amsterdam
Everyone shares in the songs and the laughter
Everyone there is so happy to be there
Repeat Chorus