Song Lyrics

Below are the song lyrics featured on our debut CD!

1. Irish Rover (Traditional)

In the year of the Lord eighteen hundred and six,
We set sail from the cold sea of Cork;
We were sailing away with a cargo of brick,
For the grand city hall in New York.

We'd an elegant craft, she was rigged fore and aft,
And know how the trade winds drove her;
She had twenty-three masts and she stood several blasts,
And they called her the Irish Rover.

So, fare thee well, my pretty little girl,
I must sail away;
Fare thee well, my pretty little girl,
I must sail away.

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Leigh,
There was Hogan from County Tyrone;
And young Mick McGurk who was scared stiff of work,
And a chap from Westmeath named Malone.

There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule,
And fighting Bill Treacy from Dover;
And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann,
He was the skipper of the Irish Rover.

So, fare thee well, my pretty little girl,
I must sail away;
Fare thee well, my pretty little girl,
I must sail away.

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags,
We had two million barrels of bone;
And three million bales of old nanny goat tails,
And four million barrels of stone.

We had five million hogs and six million dogs,
And seven million barrels of porter;
We had eight million sides of blind horses' hides,
In the hold of the Irish Rover.

So, fare thee well, my pretty little girl,
I must sail away;
Fare thee well, my pretty little girl,
I must sail away.

We had sailed several years when the measles broke out,
The ship lost its way in a fog; (BIG FOG!)
The whole of the crew was reduced down to two,
Meself and the captain's poor dog.

Then the ship struck a rock. Oh, Lord, what a shock!
We nearly tumbled over;
She spun nine times around, and the poor old dog was drowned – (howl & bark!)
I'm the last of the Irish Rover.

So, fare thee well, my pretty little girl,
I must sail away;
Fare thee well, my pretty little girl,
I must sail away.

 

2. Old Fashioned Tune (Johnny McEvoy)

Oh your eyes are as bright as they were the first night,
As we danced to an old fashioned tune;
In a dusty old schoolhouse on a Saturday night,
How we laughed as we waltzed 'round the room.
You came from the valleys to the dark city alleys,
To care for the young and the poor;
And me a young soldier with medals galore,
Came home from the African war.

How my heart filled with joy as the others passed by,
By the look in their eyes, I well knew,
That never before, as we swept around the floor,
Had they seen someone as lovely as you.

Your hair shone like gold, a joy to behold,
Your beauty was known far and wide;
There was many a young man, who'd lay down his life,
For one moment to be by your side.
But you gave them no chances, you gave them no dances,
As you gracefully swept ‘cross the floor;
With me a young soldier, with medals galore,
Came home from the African war.

How my heart filled with joy as the others passed by,
By the look in their eyes, I well knew,
That never before, as we swept around the floor,
Had they seen someone as lovely as you.

When the morning had come and the dancing all done,
We would walk in the dawn of the day;
I would tell you tall stories of battles and glories,
And comrades who fell in the fray.
Now the years come and go, still the love that we know,
Is as sweet and as warm as before;
And I a young soldier, with medals galore,
Came home from the African war.

 

3. Taste the Best of Life (Denis Sullivan SOCAN)

My son, you're after getting big, me buddy said to me,
And I said, well, I ought to, I'm eating constantly;
And I ain't talking salad, let there be no mistake,
Unless it's buried underneath a twelve ounce t-bone steak.

Now, I s'pose I should express regret at getting quite this size,
But to say that I am sorry would be just like telling lies;
'Cause I loved every mouth full, I enjoy it to the hilt,
And I just can't bring myself to feeling all consumed with guilt.

'Cause I loved every cheesie and every Flakie bun,
I'd rather bacon in the morning than a five or ten-K run;
You see, there's no one getting out alive, that's one truth that I know,
So I'm going to taste the best of life on earth before I go.

Now, I just love the taste of food, what else can I say,
As a matter of fact, I eat it each and every day;
I love my chocolate sundae with whipped cream on the top,
The trouble is that when I start I don't know how to stop.

If it's fancy or it's fast food, well, the taste just turns me on,
I'm as happy with a Whopper as I am filet mignon;
And I don't see the reason I should apologize,
For eating fresh spring lobster with crab dip on the side.

'Cause I loved every cheesie and every Flakie bun,
I'd rather bacon in the morning than a five or ten-K run;
You see, there's no one getting out alive, that's one truth that I know,
So I'm going to taste the best of life on earth before I go.

Now, I wouldn't mind being skinny, I'm sure that's a good life, too,
But I was not selected to be among the chosen few;
Who can eat away to their heart's content and never gain a pound,
My grub it all stays with me, and just sort of hangs around.

I've even tried to lose some weight, I've gone out for a swim,
I've tried my hand at jogging, and I've worked out at the gym;
I've kept myself to protein, that's when I lost the most,
But the home-made bread it did me in, I can't live without toast.

'Cause I loved every cheesie and every Flakie bun,
I'd rather bacon in the morning than a five or ten-K run;
You see, there's no one getting out alive, that's one truth that I know,
So I'm going to taste the best of life on earth before I go.

'Cause I loved every cheesie and every Flakie bun,
I'd rather bacon in the morning than a five or ten-K run;
You see, there's no one getting out alive, that's one truth that I know,
So I'm going to taste the best of life on earth before I go.

 

4. Leaving of Liverpool (Traditional)

Farewell to you, my own true love,
I am going far away;
I am bound for California,
But I know that I'll return some day.

So fare thee well, my own true love,
When I return united we will be;
It's not the leavin' of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my darlin' when I think of thee.

I have signed on a yankee sailing ship,
Davy Crockett is her name;
And Burgess is the captain of her,
And they say that she's a floating shame.

So fare thee well, my own true love,
When I return united we will be;
It's not the leavin' of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my darlin' when I think of thee

I have sailed with Burgess once before
And I think that I know him quite well
If a man is a sailor he can get along
But if not then he is surely in hell

So fare thee well, my own true love,
When I return united we will be;
It's not the leavin' of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my darlin' when I think of thee.

Oh, the sun is on the harbour, love,
And I wish I could remain;
But I know it will be some long, long time,
Before I see you again.

So fare thee well, my own true love,
When I return united we will be;
It's not the leavin' of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my darlin' when I think of thee.
But my darlin' when I think of thee.

 

5. Whiskey in the Jar (Traditional)

As I was going over the Cork and Kerry mountains,
I met with Captain Farrell and his money he was counting;
I first produced my pistol, I then produced my rapier,
Saying "Stand and deliver for I am a bold deceiver."

With me ring-a me dur a me da.
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There’s whiskey in the jar.

Well he counted out his money and it made a pretty penny,
I put it in my pocket and I brought it home to Jenny;
She sighed and she swore that she never would deceive me,
But the devil take the women for they never can be easy.

With me ring-a me dur a me da.
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There’s whiskey in the jar.

Well I went into my chamber all for to take a slumber,
I dreamt of gold and jewels and sure it was no wonder;
But Jenny took my pistols and she filled them up with water,
And sent for Captain Farrell to be ready for the slaughter.

With me ring-a me dur a me da.
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There’s whiskey in the jar.

T’was early in the morning, before I arose to travel,
The guards were all around me and likewise Captain Farrell;
Well I first produced my pistol, for she'd stole away my rapier.
But I couldn't shoot the water so a prisoner I was taken.

With me ring-a me dur a me da.
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There’s whiskey in the jar.

Now some men take delight in the carriages a-rolling,
Others take delight in the hurling and the bowling;
But me I take delight in the juice of the barley,
And courting pretty women in the morning bright and early.

With me ring-a me dur a me da.
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There’s whiskey in the jar.

With me ring-a me dur a me da.
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There's whiskey in the jar.

 

6. Grey Foggy Day (Eddie Coffey)

It’s been many years ago
Since I left my island
To go to the mainland,
Like the old folks would say;
As I walked up the gangway
And I stood on the starboard
And I gazed on the harbour
It was a grey foggy day.

Summer days they were warmer then
When we laughed with the old fishermen,
And they cursed when the fog rolled in,
Then they made up the hay;
It's been more than a long, long time
Since I held you and called you mine,
And we waited for the sun to shine
On a grey foggy day.

To wake in the early morn
To the sound of the old fog horn,
And wait for the men to return
With their boats in the bay;
All these things I don't see no more
Since I lived on the old cape shore,
And I gazed at the boats on the moors
On a grey foggy day.

Summer days they were warmer then
When we laughed with the old fishermen,
And they cursed when the fog rolled in,
Then they made up the hay;
It's been more than a long, long time
Since I held you and called you mine,
And we waited for the sun to shine
On a grey foggy day.

And as long as my heart,
Doesn't break from those old memories,
Old lovers and old use-to-bes,
Then I'll come home to stay;
I can still hear the ocean roar
Through the hills of the old cape shore,
There are no fishing boats anymore,
But it's a grey foggy day.

Summer days they were warmer then
When we laughed with the old fishermen,
And they cursed when the fog rolled in,
Then they made up the hay;
It's been more than a long, long time
Since I held you and called you mine,
And we waited for the sun to shine
On a grey foggy day.

 

7. That Old Stage (Carl Winter)

There stands an old building down near the shore,
The waves roar in under and the steerins fly o'er;
It was carved from the forests of a century gone by,
When wind moved us seaward and the birds ruled the sky.
With a horse and a sleigh and a buck saw in hand,
They'd leave their small island and walk to the mainland;
Cross o'er the ice with a horse and a sleigh,
Cut down their timbers and return home each day.

There were no saw mills then to cut out their planks,
No electrical saws or compressed air tanks;
With a pit saw and a buddy they cut out each stick,
Their hard work was all that they used to stay fit.
Many's a boy grew up in that place,
Reared up a family and tried to keep pace,
With the changing of the tides and faces of the moon,
Hoping their fortunes would get better soon.

Down in that stage where the boys came of age,
The wood shavings curl for the kids to unfurl,
As they carved out the planks that will carry them back to the banks.
Down in that stage where the boys came of age,
It's a memory now like salt spray on my brow,
Recalling with fondness the times spent in the stage.

There's no place as dear as that old stage,
Where men folk would gather no matter the age;
As they spoke of the hardships but also the fun,
Of those they had known and the work they had done.
They'd talk of the people both now and gone by,
That put smiles on their faces and a twinkle in their eye;
That old stage was the center of many a man's life,
Where they planned out their days and got away from their wives.

Down in that stage where the boys came of age,
The wood shavings curl for the kids to unfurl,
As they carve out the planks that will carry them back to the banks.
Down in that stage where the boys came of age,
It's a memory now like salt spray on my brow,
Recalling with fondness the times spent in the stage.
Recalling with fondness the times spent in the stage.

8. Black Velvet Band (Traditional)

In a neat little town they call Belfast,
Apprenticed to trade I was bound;
And many an hour with sweet happiness,
I spent in that wee little town;
Till bad misfortune came o'er me,
And caused me to stray from the land;
Far away from me friends and relations,
To follow the black velvet band.

Her eyes they shone like the diamond,
You'd think she was queen of the land;
And her hair hung over her shoulder,
Tied up with a black velvet band.

As I was walking down Broadway,
Not intending to go very far;
When I met with a handsome young damsel,
She was plying her trade in the bar;
When a watch she took from a customer,
And slipped it right into my hand;
Then the law came and put me in prison,
Bad luck to the black velvet band.

Her eyes they shone like the diamond,
You'd think she was queen of the land;
And her hair hung over her shoulder,
Tied up with a black velvet band.

Before judge and jury next morning,
The both of us did appear;
And the judge he said, "You are guilty young man,
The case against you is quite clear;
For seven long years transportation,
You're going to Van Dieman's Land;
Far away from your friends and relations,
To follow the black velvet band."

Her eyes they shone like the diamond,
You'd think she was queen of the land;
And her hair hung over her shoulder,
Tied up with a black velvet band.

So, come all you jolly young fellows,
I'll have you take warning by me;
For whenever you're out on the town, me boys,
Beware of those pretty colleens;
For they'll fill you with whiskey and porter,
Till you are not able to stand;
And the very next thing that you know, me boys
You've landed in Van Dieman's Land.

Her eyes they shone like the diamond,
You'd think she was queen of the land;
And her hair hung over her shoulder,
Tied up with a black velvet band.

 

9. Excursion Around the Bay (Johnny Burke)

It being on a Monday morning, and the day be fair and fine,
To the Harbour Grace excursion, with the boys to have a time;
And just before the sailor took the gangway from the pier,
I saw some fella haul me wife aboard the Volunteer.

O me, O my, I heard me old one cry,
O me, O my, I think I'm gonna die;
O me, O my, I heard me old one say,
I wish I had never taken this excursion around the bay.

We'd had full three hundred souls aboard, oh what a splendid sight,
Both strong and regimental to make me spirits bright;
And meself being in the double from the funny things they'd say,
They'd choke themselves from laughing when they see us in the bay.

O me, O my, I heard me old one cry,
O me, O my, I think I'm gonna die;
O me, O my, I heard me old one say,
I wish I had never taken this excursion around the bay.

My wife she got no better, she turned a sickly green,
I fed her cake and candy, fat pork and kerosene;
Castor-oil and sugar rolled candy, rubbed pure oil on her face,
And I said she'll be a dandy, when we reaches Harbour Grace.

O me, O my, I heard me old one cry,
O me, O my, I think I'm gonna die;
O me, O my, I heard me old one say,
I wish I had never taken this excursion around the bay.

My wife she got no better, oh me wife, me darling dear,
The screeches from her throat you could hear in Carbonear;
I tried every place in Harbour Grace, tried every store and shop,
To get her something for a cure, or take her to the hop.

O me, O my, I heard me old one cry,
O me, O my, I think I'm gonna die;
O me, O my, I heard me old one say,
I wish I had never taken this excursion around the bay.

She died below the Brandies, as we were coming back,
We buried her in the ocean, wrapped up in a Union Jack;
So now I am a single man in search of a pretty face,
And the woman that says she'll have me, well we're off for Harbour Grace.

O me, O my, I heard me old one cry,
O me, O my, I think I'm gonna die;
O me, O my, I heard me old one say,
I wish I had never taken this excursion around the bay. HEY!

 

10. St. Olav’s Gate (Tom Russell)

Drinking black-market vodka in the back of the Scotsman's saloon,
And it’s red meat and whiskey like a coyote drunk on the moon;
While outside in Oslo, the buskers all sing the same tune,
And, it's Waltzin' Matilda while the bagpipes play Au Clair De Lune.

So, here's to the ladies you love and you don't meet again,
The night is warm whiskey, the morning’s a cold bitter wind;
And the blue-eyed Madonna leaves town while the drunken man waits,
Leaves him standing alone in the shadows of St. Olav's Gate.

And she was a lady, she came down from Bergen, she said,
She spoke a little English, we laughed and drank whiskey instead;
But in the mornin' I found it, the rose and a note on my plate,
She said, meet me at midnight on the corner in St. Olav's Gate.

So, here's to the ladies you love and you don't meet again,
The night is warm whiskey, the morning’s a cold bitter wind;
And the blue-eyed Madonna leaves town while the drunken man waits,
Leaves him standing alone in the shadows of St. Olav's Gate.

Yes, here's to the ladies you love and you don't meet again,
The night is warm whiskey, the morning’s a cold bitter wind;
And the blue-eyed Madonna leaves town while the drunken man waits,
Leaves him standing alone in the shadows of St. Olav's Gate.
Leaves him standing alone in the shadows of St. Olav's Gate.

 

11. Measure of A Man (Denis Sullivan SOCAN)

My father was a warrior but not a man of war
It was his driving sense of duty that made him solid to the core
Was it all part of some great design, part of a master plan
Or just a part of who he was, the measure of a man

How do we measure greatness if that's a fitting word
Is it rated on some numbered scale or is that just too absurd
Is it measured by our stature, please tell me if you can
What is the final judgment on the measure of a man

Do we count the money that's left to share around
Do we add up all the acres that he claimed as his own ground
Do we add up all the assets of the companies he ran
Is it written in a bank account, this measure of a man

Do we stand and look with wonder at the structures he has made
Do we count awards that he has won, or the money he was paid
Well I hope I'm not mistaken, I'll be sorry if I am
I don't think these things add up at all to the measure of a man

For my father gave me simple things, the proverbs he would tell
Like if something is worth doing, then it's worth doing well
His values to his family, like many a great man,
Was what he had to leave behind as the measure of a man

No he never left me riches or any gold in store
But he left me truth and honesty how could you ask for more
You see he gave me everything he had, he made me what I am
And I'd like to think that I became the measure of the man
Yeah I'd like to think that I became the measure of that man

 

12. Skellara Hat (Traditional)

Now, Patsy Byrne may brag about the hat his father wore,
Indeed it was a gay caubeen in the merry days of yore;
But now it's a little bit out of date so let me tell you that,
It wouldn't hold a candle to me old Skellara hat.

It was worn by me father at the dances and the fairs,
Where all the boys and pretty girls were sure to be all there;
It was built a hundred years ago, and devil the work be that,
A regular lady dazzler was me old Skellara hat.

As I was walkin' down the road, the royal house to see,
Sure all the boys and pretty girls kept callin' after me:
"There goes the Duke of Charoseberg, and he's an aristocrat!"
But the boys they didn't know me in me old Skellara hat.

It was worn by me father at the dances and the fairs,
Where all the boys and pretty girls were sure to be all there;
It was built a hundred years ago, and devil the work be that,
A regular lady dazzler was me old Skellara hat.

I met the Queen of England a week ago today,
She took me warmly by the hand, she asked me in for tea,
"Now, Curt," says she, "I'm glad to see you're lookin' so fair and fat."
But all the while she was lookin' at me old Skellara hat.

It was worn by me father at the dances and the fairs,
Where all the boys and pretty girls were sure to be all there;
It was built a hundred years ago, and devil the work be that,
A regular lady dazzler was me old Skellara hat.

It was worn by me father at the dances and the fairs,
Where all the boys and pretty girls were sure to be all there;
It was built a hundred years ago, and devil the work be that,
A regular lady dazzler was me old Skellara hat.
A regular lady dazzler was....
A regular lady dazzler was....
A regular lady dazzler was.... me old Skellara hat.

 

13. Sweet Forget Me Not (Traditional)

Fancy brings a thought to me of a flower that's bright and fair,
Its grace and beauty both combine to make a jewel more rare;
Just like a maiden that I know once shared my happy lot,
Where we parted, when she whispered, "You'll forget me not."

She's graceful and she's charming like the lilies in the pond,
Time is gliding swiftly by, of her I am so fond;
The roses and the daisies were blooming around the spot,
Where we parted, when she whispered, "You'll forget me not."

We met, I really don't know where, but still it's just the same,
For love grows in the busy street as well as in the lane;
I gently pressed her tiny hand - one glance at me she shot,
She dropped a flower, I picked it up - 'twas the sweet forget-me-not.

She's graceful and she's charming like the lilies in the pond,
Time is gliding swiftly by, of her I am so fond;
The roses and the daisies were blooming around the spot,
Where we parted, when she whispered, "You'll forget me not."

At last there came the happy time when something that I said,
It caused her lips to murmur, "Yes," and shortly we were wed;
There is a house down in the lane with a tiny garden plot,
There grows a flower, I know it well, it's the sweet forget-me-not.

She's graceful and she's charming like the lilies in the pond,
Time is flying swiftly by, of her I am so fond;
The roses and the daisies were blooming around the spot,
Where we parted, when she whispered, "You'll forget me not."

 

14. Cock of the North/Brother’s Jig

15. Close B’y to Heaven (Denis Sullivan SOCAN)

What would you call a land of great beauty
Of mountains majestic, of streams by the score
Of free roaming wildlife and endless blue ocean
We call it Newfoundland and Labrador

Where could you see the grace of the humpback
The swift diving gannets, the bald eagle soar
With herds of the caribou roaming the barrens
It's all here in Newfoundland and Labrador

There's a rare place on earth that's close b’y to heaven
Where it doesn't matter if you're rich or poor
You'll be wealthy forever beyond greatest measure
Once you've been in Newfoundland and Labrador

Where could you find a land rich in history
Where natives have lived ten centuries or more
Where the Vikings have landed, our forefathers settled
They called it Newfoundland and Labrador

Some came to answer the call of adventure
Some came for the fish that teemed off our shore
They lived through the hardships and savored the pleasures
That make up this Newfoundland and Labrador

There's a rare place on earth that's close b’y to heaven
Where it doesn't matter if you're rich or poor
You'll be wealthy forever beyond greatest measure
Once you've been in Newfoundland and Labrador

Where could you find a people so happy
A place where they'll greet you with friendship galore
A place where the strangers are always made welcome
As they are in Newfoundland and Labrador

It's a wonderful privilege to live in a province
Where the sea breezes blow and the air is so pure
With natural splendor and peace loving people
As we have in Newfoundland and Labrador

There's a rare place on earth that's close b’y to heaven
Where it doesn't matter if you're rich or poor
You'll be wealthy forever beyond greatest measure
Once you've been in Newfoundland and Labrador
Once you've been in Newfoundland and Labrador