It's too early in the morning and I am podcasting after finishing an episode of the Renaissance Festival podcast dedicated to pirates.

Songs:

Notes:

  • Pirate Music and Pirates of the Caribbean
  • Coming back off the road
  • What's with Cats who lie on top of you?
  • Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest
  • Black Jack Murphy
  • Live recording from a house concert

Irish Rover
words and music traditional

In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the cold Cobh of Cork.
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall of New York.
In an elegant craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft
And oh, how the trade winds drove her.
She had twenty-three masts and withstood several blasts
And they called her the Irish Rover.

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee,
There was Hogan from County Tyrone.
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work
And a chap from West Meade called Mallone.
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Casey from Dover.
And a man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper in the Irish Rover.

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of bones.
We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails,
We had four million barrels of stones.
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs,
We had six million barrels of porter.
We had eight million sides of old blind horses hides,
In the hold of the Irish Rover.

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And the ship lost her way in a fog. (big fog)
And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two,
Myself and the captain's old dog. (small dog woof)
Then the ship struck a rock. Lord, what a shock!
Then she heeled right over,
She spun nine times around, and the poor old dog was drowned
I'm the last of the Irish Rover.

Patriot Game
words and music by Dominic Behan

Come all ye young rebels, and list while I sing,
For the love of one's country is a terrible thing.
It banishes fear with the speed of a flame,
And it makes us all part of the patriot game.

My name is O'Hanlon, and I've just turned sixteen.
My home is in Monaghan, and where I was weaned
I learned all my life cruel England's to blame,
So now I am part of the patriot game.

This Ireland of ours has too long been half free.
Six counties lie under John Bull's tyranny.
But still De Valera is greatly to blame
For shirking his part in the Patriot game.

They told me how Connolly was shot in his chair,
His wounds from the fighting all bloody and bare.
His fine body twisted, all battered and lame
They soon made me part of the patriot game.

It's nearly two years since I wandered away
With the local battalion of the bold IRA,
For I read of our heroes, and wanted the same
To play out my part in the patriot game.

[extra verse I found]
I don't mind a bit if I shoot down police
They are lackeys for war never guardians of peace
And yet at deserters I'm never let aim
The rebels who sold out the patriot game

And now as I lie here, my body all holes
I think of those traitors who bargained in souls
And I wish that my rifle had given the same
To those Quislings who sold out the patriot game.

Lyrics to Patriot Game found here.

Direct download: PubSongsPodcast-012.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 12:00pm CST

I was in a car accident before our expected tour. I guess I'll podcast instead.

Songs:

  • "The Night That Paddy Murphy Died" by Marc Gunn from Irish Whiskey Pub Songs
  • "The Vampire Club" by Voltaire from Boo Hoo

Notes:

  • Matt Hughe's Trivia
  • Car accident and rental from Capps Rent-a-Car
  • House Concert Tour & InConjunction
  • Elysium with Voltaire, the Machine in the Garden, and Brobdingnagian Bards (music on myspace)

 

The Night That Paddy Murphy Died
words and music Johnny Burke (1851-1930), a Newfoundland songwriter

Oh the night that Paddy Murphy died, is a night I'll never forget
Some of the boys got loaded drunk, and they ain't got sober yet;
As long as a bottle was passed around every man was feelin' gay
O'Leary came with the bagpipes, some music for to play

And that's how they showed their respect for Paddy Murphy
That's how they showed their honour and their pride
They said it was a sin and a shame and they winked at one another
Now every drink in the wakehouse went, the night Pat Murphy died

Mrs. Murphy sat in the corner, pourin' out her grief
When Kelly and his friends, came roaring down the street
They crept into an empty room and a bottle of whiskey stole
They placed the bottle on the corpse to keep the liquor cold

At three o'clock in the morning, after emptying the jug
Doyle rose up the coffin lid to see poor Paddy's mug
He stopped the clock so Mrs. Murphy couldn't tell the time
And at a quarter after three, they argued it was nine.

And everyone got merry, they didn't care for prayer
Mrs. Murphy said she'd wait 'til all the gang were there
Of all the sights I've ever seen that made me shiver with fear
They took the ice right off the corpse, and placed it on the beer

Now everything was doin' fine, there was no ill at all
'Til Finnegan told Callaghan, "You've got an awful gall."
I thought that that might start a row, And sure enough it did
For Callaghan had carved his name upon the coffin lid

Then the fight got fierce & strong, everyone was in
Someone knocked the whiskers off poor old Darby Flynn
And Dirty Andy Burke was there, now whadda ya think he done?
He placed the corpse right on its head, in the corner just for fun

Someone hollered for the cops; they busted down the door
They jumped upon ol' Paddy's back and they laid him on the floor
They knocked him twice behind the ears and they knocked him on the head
When they jumped up from his back, sure they found out he was dead

Mrs. Murphy started in, battled with them cops
She chased 'em, every one of them; she chased 'em several blocks
A lovely time was had by all, eighteen in court were tried
For having caused a riot on the night Pat Murphy died

At eight o'clock in the morning, the procession left the house
And everyone but poor ol' Mrs. Murphy was out soused
They stopped on the way to the churchyard at the old Red Door Saloon
They staggered in at nine o'clock and didn't come out 'til noon

Someone asked ol' Finnegan if anyone had died
"Lou," says he, "I'm not quite sure, I just came for the ride."
They started out for the graveyard, all holy and sublime,
But found out when they got there, they'd left the corpse behind

Oh the night that Paddy Murphy died, is a night I'll never forget
Some of the boys got loaded drunk, and they ain't got sober yet;
As long as a bottle was passed around every man was feelin' gay
O'Leary came with the bagpipes, some music for to play

Direct download: PubSongsPodcast-011.mp3
Category:podcasts -- posted at: 12:00pm CST

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