Bedlam Bards have a new album and Brobdingnagian Bards were added to a Firefly documentary soundtrack. It's all in this week's show. Why I love Firefly?

Songs:

Notes:

The Ballad of Joss
music by Joss Whedon, lyrics by James Hazlerig of the Bedlam Bards

Joss, the man they call Joss . . .

He wrote about spaceships and shepherds and whores,
Stood up to the networks and gave 'em what for.
Fox cancelled his program, but that was their loss--
The creator of Firefly, the man they call Joss!

Our Joss saw the viewers' hearts breakin',
He heard the Browncoats' lament,
He saw the Fox network takin',
His show in a way that made no sense.
(He said) "You can't do that to my program,
Can't grind it under your heel."
So he took all the cast,
And now at last,
They've landed a Big Damn Movie deal!

He wrote about spaceships and shepherds and whores,
Stood up to the networks and gave 'em what for.
Fox cancelled his program, but that was their loss--
The creator of Firefly, the man they call Joss!

Now here is what separates Whedon,
From writers who slave in the core,
The man they call Joss,
Well, he said to Fox,
"I'm going where no show has gone before."
He told us about reavers,
He told us about sin,
He took us to the black,
And we ain't comin' back,
'till all those crazy Browncoats rise again!

He wrote about spaceships and shepherds and whores,
Stood up to the networks and gave 'em what for.
Fox cancelled his program, but that was their loss--
The creator of Firefly, the man they call Joss!

Now, here is what separates Firefly
From other shows you're likely to see--
It's meaningful and witty,
And the setting's really gritty,
And the theme song is about Serenity.
It's a little like a western,
And a little like X-Files,
It's better than Trek,
And funnier than Shrek,
And it beats out Andromeda by miles!

He wrote about spaceships and shepherds and whores,
Stood up to the networks and gave 'em what for.
Fox cancelled his program, but that was their loss--
The creator of Firefly, the man they call Joss!

Hero of Canton
from "Jaynestown" on the Firefly TV show

Jayne, the man they call Jayne

He robbed from the rich
And he gave to the poor
Stood up to the man
And gave him what for
Our love for him now
Ain't hard to explain
The hero of Canton
The man they call Jayne

Our Jayne saw the mudders' backs breakin'
He saw the mudders' lament
And he saw the magistrate takin'
Every dollar and leavin' five cents
So he said "you can't do that to my people"
He said "you can't crush them under your heel"
So Jayne strapped on his hat
And in 5 seconds flat
Stole everythin' Boss Higgins had to steal

He robbed from the rich
And he gave to the poor
Stood up to the man
And gave him what for
Our love for him now
Ain't hard to explain
The hero of Canton
The man they call Jayne

Now here is what separates heroes
From common folk like you and I
The man they call Jayne
He turned 'round his plane
And let that money hit sky
He dropped it onto our houses
He dropped it into our yards
The man they called Jayne
He stole away our pain
And headed out for the stars

He robbed from the rich
And he gave to the poor
Stood up to the man
And gave him what for
Our love for him now
Ain't hard to explain
The hero of Canton
The man they call Jayne.

Firefly Theme Song
music and lyrics by Joss Whedon

Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't comin' back
Burn the land and boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...

Direct download: PubSongsPodcast-010.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 12:00pm CST

Talking about the Brobdingnagian Bards' upcoming one month tour.

Songs:

Notes:

 

Rocky Road to Dublin
traditional

In the merry month of May, From my home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam, Nearly broken hearted,
Saluted father dear, Kissed my darlin' mother,
Drank a pint of beer, My grief and tears to smother,
Then off to reap the corn, And leave where I was born,
I cut a stout blackthorn, To banish ghost and goblin,
In a brand new pair of brogues, I rattled o'er the bogs,
And frightened all the dogs,On the rocky road to Dublin.

One, two, three, four five,
Hunt the hare and turn her
Down the rocky road
And all the ways to Dublin,
Whack-fol-lol-de-ra.

In Mullingar that night, I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight, Next mornin' light and airy,
Took a drop of the pure, To keep my heart from sinkin',
That's an Irishman's cure, Whene'er he's on for drinking.
To see the lasses smile, Laughing all the while,
At my curious style, 'Twould set your heart a-bubblin'.
They ax'd if I was hired, The wages I required,
Till I was almost tired, Of the rocky road to Dublin.

In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity,
To be so soon deprived, A view of that fine city.
Then I took a stroll, All among the quality,
My bundle it was stole, In a neat locality;
Something crossed my mind, Then I looked behind;
No bundle could I find, Upon my stick a wobblin'.
Enquirin' for the rogue, They said my Connacht brogue,
Wasn't much in vogue, On the rocky road to Dublin.

From there I got away, My spirits never failin'
Landed on the quay As the ship was sailin';
Captain at me roared, Said that no room had he,
When I jumped aboard, A cabin found for Paddy,
Down among the pigs I played some funny rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs, The water round me bubblin',
When off Holyhead, I wished myself was dead,
Or better far instead, On the rocky road to Dublin.

The boys of Liverpool, When we safely landed,
Called myself a fool; I could no longer stand it;
Blood began to boil, Temper I was losin',
Poor ould Erin's isle They began abusin',
"Hurrah my soul," sez I, My shillelagh I let fly;
Some Galway boys were by, Saw I was a hobble in,
Then with a loud hurray, They joined in the affray.
We quickly cleared the way, For the rocky road to Dublin.

Direct download: PubSongsPodcast-009.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 12:00pm CST

It's Father's Day and I play some music from Seymoure and Sudden Death, aka Devo Spice.

Songs:

Notes:

 

The Pudding Song
traditional as sung by Seymoure

I'm getting a bit tonight, tonight
I'm getting a bit tonight
Me mother says I must be quick
If I'm to have the spotted dick
I loves me roly poly
It fills me with delight
I haven't had any since Easter
I'm getting a bit tonight

Direct download: PubSongsPodcast-008.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 12:00pm CST

I got a post from myspace that I felt I needed to share.

Songs:

  • "Old Fenian Gun" by 4 Irish Whiskey from 4 Irish Whiskey Pub Songs
  • "High Jeannie High" by Ed Miller from Live from the Cactus Cafe

Notes:

  • If Myspace Was Real

Old Fenian Gun
words and music by P. O'Neill, as sung by an old Irishman... not really

It hung above the kitchen fire. It's barrel long and brown
And one day with a boy's desire, I climbed and took it down
My father's eyes in anger flashed. He cried ""what have you done?!
I wish you'd left it where it was, That's my old Fenian gun"".

I fondled it with love and pride. I looked it o'er and o'er
I placed it on my shoulder And I marched across the floor
My father's anger softened And he shared my boyish fun
"Ah, well"" he said "'tis in your breed like that old Fenian gun".

I remember '67 well when lads like you and me
All thought we'd strike another blow to set old Ireland free.
But broken were our golden hopes I was long months on the run
But it did good work for Ireland then that brown old Fenian gun.

I was down then in Killaluk t'was the hottest fight of all.
And you can see he burned his arm there's a mark still on the ball
I hope the young lads growing now will hold the ground we won
And not disgrace the cause in which I held that Fenian gun

I placed it o'er the fire once more. I heard my father sigh
I knew his thoughts were turning back on days now long gone by
And then I vowed within my heart I'll be my father's son
And if ever Ireland wants my aid I'll hold the Fenian gun.

That's years ago I've grown a man And I've weathered many a gale
This last long year's been spent inside a gloomy English jail
I've done my part I'll do it still Until the fight is won
When Ireland's free she'll bless the men Who held the Fenian gun.

Direct download: PubSongsPodcast-007.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 12:00pm CST

This week is just about the music. Here's some fun songs.

Songs:

  • "Wild Colonial Boy" by StoneRing from Samhain
  • "The Worst Pirate Song" by Ceann from Almost Irish
  • "General Taylor" by Pandora Celtica from a Pandora Celtica Demo
  • "Rhapsody in Ritalin" by Breastfed from Breasted EP

Wild Colonial Boy
traditional, as sung by StoneRing

There was a wild colonial boy, Jack Doogan was his name.
He was born and raised in Ireland, in a place called Castle Maine.
He was his father's only hope, his mother's pride and joy.
And dearly did his parents love the wild colonial boy.

At the early age of sixteen years he left his native home.
And to Australia's sunny shores he was inclined to roam.
He went and robbed the stagecoach and he shot James McEvoy.
A terror to Australia was the wild colonial boy.

One morning on the prairie young Jack Doogan rode along.
He was listening to the mocking birds, they were singing a cheerful song.
Up rode a band of troupers, Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy.
They all rode up to capture him, the wild colonial boy.

"Surrender now Jack Doogan, you see it's three to one.
Surrender in the Queen's high name for you're her plundering son."
He drew two pistols from his belt and he proudly waved them high.
"I'll fight but not surrender" cried the wild colonial boy.

He fired a ball at Kelly who fell dead right to the ground.
Then he fired a ball at Davis who was dead before he hit the ground.
But the bullet that pierced his proud young heart was from the pistol of Fitzroy.
And that's the way they captured him, the wild colonial boy.

General Taylor
traditional, as sung by Pandora Celtica

Well General Taylor gained the day
Walk him along, John, Carry him along
Well General Taylor gained the day
Carry him to his bury'n ground

Tell me way, hey, you stormy
Walk him along, John, carry him along
Tel me way, hey, you stormy
Carry him to his bury'n ground

We'll dig his grave with a silver spade
Walk him along, John, Carry him along
His shroud of the finest silk will be made
Carry him to his bury'n ground

We'll lower him down with a golden chain
Walk him along, John, Carry him along
On every inch we'll carve his name
Carry him to his bury'n ground

Well General Taylor died long ago
Walk him along, John, Carry him along
He's gone where the stormy winds don't blow
Carry him to his bury'n ground

Direct download: PubSongsPodcast-006.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 12:00pm CST

I wrote my first ever murder ballad inspired by an album Andrew and I came up with called Happy Songs of Death.

Songs:

  • "Won't You Come With Me" by Marc Gunn
  • "My Own Hero" by Joni Minstrel from Joni Minstrel Kicks the King

Notes:

  • Writing Murder Ballads
  • Songs that Inspire Emotion
  • IRA Songs

Won't You Come With Me?
words and music by Marc Gunn

I left my ship with storms on my mind,
High wind and tossing seas.
I sought a girl with soft green eyes
To take my mind off me.

Hai diddle-dai-dum
Ba du diddle-dai-dum
Ba du diddle-dai diddle-dai dee
Hai diddle-dai-dum
Ba du diddle-dai-dum
Won't you come with me?

I met a maid by waterside
Gutting the herring clean.
She took my hand, laid down her knife.
Then we walked along the beach.
Singing...

She set herself down on a rock
And bade me sit at her feet.
The sun settled down and the wind did blow
The curlets across her cheek.
We sang...

I took her gently in my arms
Our bodies rolling in the sand.
When I pulled the knife out of her side
Her body stopped lurching at last.

Direct download: PubSongsPodcast-005.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 12:00pm CST

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