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The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington Ballynure Ballad Barnacle Bill the Sailor Basket Of Oysters
Ballad of Langbrow The Bandits Song Barbarian Compound The Bastard King of England
Ballad of the Selden Babe The Banks of the Bann The Baron of Brackley  
Ballad of the Twelve sisters Barb'ra Ellen   Belfast Mill
Ballad of White Jenna The Bard of Armagh
Long and Short Versions
The Beggarman
    Also called Johnny Dhu
and Little Beggarman
 
The Ballad of William Bloat The Barley Moe Song   B-I-M-B-O

The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington

Recorded by Mike Seeger, Richard Dyer-Bennet, Andrew Rowan Summers
Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (1863-1944). The Oxford Book of Ballads. 1910.
http://www.bartleby.com/243/95.html

There was a youth and a well beloved youth
And he was a squire’s son;
He loved the bailiff's daughter dear,
That lived in Islington.

Yet she was coy and would not believe.
That he did love her so,
No, nor at any time would she
Any countenance to him show.
But when his friends did understand,
His fond and foolish mind,

They sent him up to fair London town,
An apprentice for to bind.
And when he had been seven long years,
And never his love could see;

"Many a tear have I shed for her sake
When she little thought of me.:
Then all the maids of Islington

Went forth to sport and play;
All but the bailiffs daughter dear,
She secretly stole away.

She pulled off her gown of green,
And put on some ragged attire;
And to fair London she would go,
Her true love to inquire.

And as she went along the high road,
The weather being hot and dry,
She sat her down upon a green bank
And her true love came riding by.

She started up with a color so red,
Catching hold of his bridle rein;
"One penny, one penny, kind sir," she said,
"Will ease me of much pain."

"Before I give you one penny fair maid,
Pray tell me where you were born."
"At Islington, kind sir," said she,

"Where I have had many a scorn.
If that be so, I prithee, fair maid,
Oh, tell me whether you know
The bailiffs daughter of Islington?"

"She is dead, sir, long ago."
"If she be dead, then take my horse,
My saddle and bridle also;
For I will into some far country

Where no man shall me know.
"oh stay, oh stay, thou goodly youth,
She standeth by thy side;
She is hear alive, she is
And ready to be thy bride."

Oh, farewell grief and welcome joy
Ten thousand times therefore;
For now I have found my own true love,
Whom I tho’t I never should see more."
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Ballad of Langbrow

When Langbrow first was made the king,
Proclaimed by all his men,
He took to him a goodly wife
Whose name was Whitsom Jen.

He took to him a goodly wife,
her name it was sweet Ann
And light her hair, and long her limb,
And Langbrow was her man,
An Langbrow was her man.

When Langbrow first was made the king,
Proclaimed by all his peers,
He opened up the prison gates
That had been closed for years.

He opened up the prison gates
With just one little key
And all the men condemned within
Straightways were all set free
Straightways were all set free.

When Langbrow first was made the king,
He killed the callous crew
That tortured many a fine woman
And slaughtered not a few.

That tortured many a fine woman
And brought them many a shame
Till Langbrow came to rescue them
Returning their good name,
Returning their good name.

When Langbrow first was made the king,
The country did rejoice
And sang the praises of the king
With cup and wine and voice.
We sang the praises of the king

And of his Whitsom Jen
And of the men who followed him,
And also the women,
And also the women!
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Ballad of the Selden Babe

Do not go down,
Ye maidens all who wear the golden gown
Do not go to the clearing
At the edge of Selden town

For wicked are the men who wait to bring young maidens down.
A maiden went to Seldentown,

A maid no more was she,
Her hair hung loose about her neck,
Her gown about her knee,
A babe was slung upon her back,

A bonny babe was he.
She went into the clearing wild,
She went too far from town,
A man came up behind her
And he cut her neck around,

A man came up behind her
And he pushed that fair maid down.
"And will ye have you way wi’ me,
Or will ye cut me dead,
Or do ye hope to take from me
My long-lost maidenhead?

Why have ye brought me far from town
Upon this grass green bed?"
He never spoke a single word,
Nor gave to her his name,

Nor whence and where his parentage,
Nor from which town he came,
He only thought to bring her low
An heap her high with shame.
But as he set about his plan,
And went about his work,
The babe upon the maiden’s back
Had toughed her hidden dirk,
And from its sheath had taken it

All in the clearing ’mirk.
And one and two, the tiny hands
Did fell the evil man,
Who all upon his mother had
Commenced the wicked plan.

God grant us all such bonny babes
And a good and long life span,
And a good and long life span.
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Ballad of the Twelve sisters

There were twelve sisters by a lake,
Rosemary, bayberry, thistle and thorn,
A handsome sailor one did take,
And that day a child was born.
A handsome sailor one did wed,

Rosemary, bayberry, thistle and thorn,

The other sisters wished her dead
On the day the child was born.
"Oh, sister, give me your right hand,"
Rosemary, bayberry, thistle and thorn,

Eleven to the one demand
On the day the child was born.
They laid her down upon the hill,
Rosemary, bayberry, thistle and thorn,

And took her babe against her will
On the day the child was born.
They left her on the cold hillside,
Rosemary, bayberry, thistle and thorn,

Convinced that her new babe had died
On the day the child was born.
She wept red tears, and she wept gray,
Rosemary, bayberry, thistle and thorn,

Till she had wept her life away,
On the day her child was born.
The sailor’s heart it broke in two,
Rosemary, bayberry, thistle and thorn,

The sisters all their act did rue
From the day the child was born.
And from their graves grew rose and briar,
Rosemary, bayberry, thistle and thorn,

Twined till they could grow no higher,
From the day the child was born.

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Ballad of White Jenna

Out of the morning, in-to the night,
Thirty and three rode off to put the dread
Foe to flight Led by the hand of Jenna
Thirty and three rode side by side,
And by the moonlight fortified.

"Fight on, my sisters," Jenna cried.
"fight for the Great White Alts."
The blood flowed swift, like good red wine,
As sisters took the battle line.
"This kingdom I will claim for mine
and for the heart of Alta!"

Thirty and three rode out that day
To hold the dreaded foe at bay,
But never more they passed this
Led by the hand of Jenna.

Yet Still, some say, in the darkest night
The sisters can be heard to fight
And you will see a flash of white,
The long white braid of Jenna.
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The Ballad of William Bloat

Traditional William Calvert
Midi:
http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/midi/WMBLOAT.midi

In a mean abode on the Skankill Road
Lived a man named William Bloat;
He had a wife, the curse of his life,
Who continually got his goat.

So one day at dawn, with her nightdress on
He cut her bloody throat.
[This verse is often omitted]
With a razor gash he settled her hash
Oh never was crime so quick
But the drip drip drip on the pillowslip'
Of her lifeblood made him sick.

And the pool of gore on the bedroom floor
Grew clotted and cold and thick.
Now he was glad he had done what he had
When she lay there stiff and still
But a sudden awe of the angry law

Shuck his heart with an icy chill.
So to finish the fun so well begun
He decided himself to kill.
He took the sheet from the wife's coul' feet

And twisted it into a rope
And he hanged himself from the pantry shelf,
'Twas an easy end, let's hope.
In the face of death with his latest breath
He solemnly cursed the Pope.

But the strangest turn to the whole concern
Is only just beginning.
He went to Hell but his wife got well
And she's still alive and sinning
For the razor blade was German made
But the sheet was Belfast linen.
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Ballynure Ballad

http://shorty.mudcat.org/!!-song99.cfm?stuff=fall99+D+787352

As I was goin’ to Ballynure,
The day I will remember,
For to view the lads and lasses on
The fifth day of November,

With a ma-ring-doo-a-day,
With a ma-ring-a-doo-a-daddy oh!

As I was goin’ along the road
When homeward I was walking.
I hear a wee lad behind a ditch-a
To his wee lass was talking,

With a ma-ring-doo-a-day,
With a ma-ring-a-doo-a-daddy oh!

Said the wee lad to the wee lass,
"It’s will ye let me kiss ye,
For it’s I have got the cordial eye
That far exceeds the whiskey."

With a ma-ring-doo-a-day,
With a ma-ring-a-doo-a-daddy oh!

This cordial that ye talk about
There’s very few o’ them gets it,
For there’s nothin’ now but crooked combs
And muslin gowns can catch it.

With a ma-ring-doo-a-day,
With a ma-ring-a-doo-a-daddy oh!
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The Bandits Song

-Modern Traditional

From this valley they say you are leaving
We will miss your bright swords and strong arms
For they say you are taking as plunder
All the food we have stored in our barns
Oh leave us some things for the winter
Take not all we implore with a sob
Or when you return in the springtime
You will not find a peasant to rob
You have gotten our dear daughters pregnant
You have cut up our cows for your stew
Oh we hired you for our protection
But we needed protection from you
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The Banks of the Bann

(Traditional- From Silly Wizard: Kiss the Tears Away)

When first unto this country a stranger I came
I placed my affections on a maid that was young
She bein' young and tender, Her waist small an' slender
Kind nature had formed her for my overthrow

On the banks of the Bann is where I first beheld her
She appeared like Regina, the fair Grecian Queen
Her eyes shone like diamonds, or stars softly shinin'
Her lips were like roses, or blood drops on snow

It was her cruel parents, who first caused her variance
Because she was rich, and above my degree
But I'll do my endeavor, to gain my loves favor
Although she is born of a high family

My name it is Delahney, that's a name that won't chain me
If I ha' had money, I'd ha' never had room
But the drinkin' an' sportin', nae ramblin' an' courtin'
Are the cause of all my ruin and absence from home

But now that I have gained her, I am happy forever
With rings on her finger, and gold in her hair
And now by the banks of the lovely Bann waters
In peace and contentment I'll live with my dear
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Barb’ra Ellen

In scarlet town where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwellin’;
Made ev’ry youth cry, Well-a-day!
And her name was Barb’ra Ellen,

‘Twas in the merry month of May,
When green buds they were swellin’.
Sweet William on this deathbed lay
For the love of Barb’ra Ellen

He sent a servant to the town,
To the place where she was dwellin’.
"My master’s sick and he bids you come
If your name be Barb’ra Ellen.

Then slowly, slowly she got up,
And slowly she went nigh him;
And as she drew the curtain back:
"Young man, I think you’re dyin!"

"O, ken you not in yonder town,
In the place where we were dwellin’,
You gave a health to the ladies all,
But you slighted Barb'ra Ellen."

"O, yes I ken. I ken it well.
In the place where we were dwellin’,
I gave a health to the ladies all,
But my love to Barb’ra Ellen."

Then slowly went she down the stairs.
He trembled like an aspen.
"Be kind, good friends and neighbors all,
Be kind to Barb’ra Ellen."

And as she cross’d the wooded fields,
She heard his deathbell knellin’,
And ev’ry stroke, it spoke her name
"Hard-hearted Barb’ra Ellen."

She look’d to the east, she looked to the west.
She saw his corpse a comin’.
"O bearers, bearers, lay him down,
For I think I too am dying’."

"O, Mother, Mother, make my bed,
And make it long and narrow.
Sweet William died for the love of me;
I’ll die for him of sorrow!"

"O, Father, Father, dig my grave,
And dig it deep and narrow.
Sweet William died for me today.
I’ll die for him tomorrow."

They buried her in the old churchyard.
They buried him beside her,
And from his heart grew a red, red rose,
And from her heart a briar.

They climb’d right up the old church wall
Till they couldn’t climb no higher.
They tied themselves in a true lovers’ know;
The red rose ‘round the briar.
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The Bard of Armagh

(LONG VERSION)

Oh! List to the lay of a poor Irish Harper
And scorn not the strains of his old withered hand,
But remember those fingers they could once move more sharper
To raise the merry strains of his dear native land.

It was long before the shamrock, our green isle's loved emblem,
Was crushed in it's beauty 'neath the Saxon Lion's Paw
I was called by the colleens of the village and the valley
Bold Phelim Brady the Bard Of Armagh.

How I long for to muse on the days of my boyhood,
Though four score and three years has flitted since then,
Still it gives sweet reflections, as every young joy should,
That the merry-hearted boys make the best of old men.

At a pattern or a fair I could twist my shillegagh
Or trip through a jig with my brogues bound with straw,
Whilst all the pretty maidens around me assembled loved
Bold Phelim Brady the Bard of Armagh.

Although I have traveled this wide world over,
Yet Eire's my Home and a parent to me,
Then, oh, Let the ground that my old bones shall cover
Be cut from the soil that is trod by the free.

And when Sergeant Death in his cold arms shall embrace me,
O, lull me to sleep with sweet Erin go bragh,
By the side of my Kathleen, my young wife, O place me, then
Forget Phelim Brady the Bard of Armagh.
 

(SHORT VERSION)

Oh, list to the lay of a poor Irish Harper
And scorn not the strains of his old withered hands,
But remember his fingers, they once could move sharper,
To raise up the mem'ry of his dear native land.

At a fair or a wake, I could twist my shillegagh,
Or trip through a jig with me brougues bound with straw.
And all the pretty colleens around me assembled.
Loved their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.

Oh, how I long to muse on the days of my boyhood,
Though fourscore and three years have flitted since then.
But it brings sweet reflections, as every young joy should,
For the merry hearted boys make the best of old men.

And then Seargeant Death in his cold arms shall embrace me,
O, lull me to sleep with sweet Erin go Braugh.
By the side of my Kathleen, my young wife, oh, place me.
Then forget Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.
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The Barley Moe Song
-Traditional

Last verse
(In the interests of space, again, I'll only print the Last Verse, piece it together yourselves.)

Here's good luck to the company, good luck to the Barley Moe
Jolly good luck to the company, good luck to the Barley Moe
Here's good luck to the company, the daughter, the cooper,
the brewer, the daughter, the landlady, the landlord, the full ton
the half ton, the barrel, the half barrel, the gallon,
the half gallon, the quart pot, pint pot, half pint, gill pot,
half a gill, quarter gill, nipperkin, and the brown bowl.
Here's good luck, good luck to the barley moe

Full Version
http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lyrics/barleymow.html

Now here's jolly good luck to the quarter gill
Good luck to the Barley Mow
Jolly good luck to the quartergill
Good luck to the Barley Mow
Oh, the quarter gill
Fetch in a little drop more

Here's good luck, good luck, good luck to the barley mow
Now here's jolly good luck to the half gill
Good luck to the Barley Mow
Jolly good luck to the half gill
Good luck to the Barley Mow
Oh, the half gill, quarter gill
Fetch in a little drop more

Here's good luck, good luck, good luck to the barley mow
Now here's jolly good luck to the gill pot
Good luck to the Barley Mow
Jolly good luck to the gill pot
Good luck to the Barley Mow
Oh, the gill pot, half gill, quarter gill
Fetch in a little drop more
Here's good luck, good luck, good luck to the barley mow

similarly:
half pint
pint pot
quart pot
half gallon
gallon
half bushel
bushel
half barrel
barrel
bar maid
land lady
land lord
brewery
company
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Barnacle Bill the Sailor

-Modern Traditional

women:

Who's that knocking at my door?
Who's that knocking at my door?
Who's that knocking at my door?
Said the fine young maiden

men:

Open the door you fucking whore, said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.
Open the door you fucking whore, said Barnacle Bill the Sailor.

women:

Will you take me to the dance?
Will you take me to the dance?
Will you take me to the dance?
Said the fine young maiden.

men:

Screw the dance and drop your pants, said B.B. the S. (twice)

women:

What if my parents should come home? (three times)
Said the fine young maiden.

men:

I'll kill your Pa and fuck your Ma, said B.B. the S. (twice)

women:

What if we should have a girl? (three times)
Said the fine young maiden.

men:

I'll dig a ditch and bury the bitch, said B.B. the S. (twice)

women:
What if we should have a boy? (three times)
Said the fine young maiden.

men:
I'll take him to sea, so he can fuck like me,
said Barnacle Bill the Sailor

I'll take him to sea, so he can fuck like me,
said Barnacle Bill the Sailor
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Barbarian Compound

By Kondrad von Bohmen
Tune: Lily the Pink

Chorus: (Sung after each verse)
Oh we think, we think, we think
That Llwyd is a fink, a fink, a fink
A figure of respectability
Rules the college through barbarian compound
The results are plain to see!

Oh Lord Llwyd, our fearless leader
A mighty Welshman to the hilt
Rules the men folk, through barbarian compound
The ladies with what’s beneath his kilt

Oh Lord Hiroshi, a bit of a ninja
Skulks around in this PFs
Took a sip of barbarian compound
And became an invisible sheriff!

Oh Lord Konrad, our mighty marshal
Carries a great huge ugly mace
Drank his fill of barbarian compound
See him smashing himself in his face.

Oh Rhiogan, a terrible Scotsman
Fells both man and beast with fear
Drank 2 bottles of barbarian compound
And his footsteps sheep can’t hear

Lady Anthea, our Roman matron
Came to us from the East
Chugged a keg of barbarian compound
And made all the men forget the feast

Lord Jagonam, our Frankish warrior
A holy man until the end
Took a drink of barbarian compound
And his staff a horse couldn’t bend

Aldric MacGlynn, a Scottish fighter
His claymore is four foot eight
Took a swig of barbarian compound
Watch his beard curl up to his Pate

Amazing Ginzu, our Japanese novice
Wants to wield himself a glaive
Drank a bit of barbarian compound
Now a flagpole he could wave.

Oh Zone Trooper, bunny fur chaser
He drinks only Mountain Dew
Mixed in some barbarian compound
All that’s left of him is his shoe

Ravenous Cedric, the Saxon hobbit
Runs amok with his big axe
Poured down his throat some barbarian compound
Now his gut no feast can tax

Gungir Grippson, the Shlack-Ness Monster
All manner of beasts he loves
Drank a pint of barbarian compound
Now chases girls with black gloves

Oh Erick Saanvik, Norwegian hero
Cuts his foes down like a weed
Swilled a case of barbarian compound
Has nightmares that he’s a Swede

Elen Redfox, was a timid Welsh Lady
Wife to the mighty Llwyd
Took a taste of barbarian compound
Now to her words he pays great heed.

Note: Llwyd Emrys O’ Arth (aka; Joe, Joe God, Ambrosius, and other names in other cultures) has filled every office at St. Golias at one time or another, as well as being our armorer, arbitrator, and anchor. Very often he was stuck with the office of Seneschal. Thus he is our ‘fearless leader’ and ‘figure ofrespectability’ – he has never been a ‘fink’ but it sure did rhyme in the song don’t you think?
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The Baron of Brackley

Folk Songs and Ballads of Scotland, MacColl. A Child Poem#203
Midi: http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=BRNBRKLY&tt=BRNBRKLY

Down Deeside cam' lnverey, whistlin' and playin',
He's lichted at Brackley yetts at the day dawin';
Says: "Baron o'Brackley, it's are ye within,
There's sharp swords at your yetts'll gar your bluid spin."

Oot spak the brave baron ower the castle wa',
"Are ye come to spulyie and plunder my ha'?
But gin ye be a gentleman, licht and come in;
Gin ye drink o'my wine ye'll no'gar my bluid spin."

His lady rose up, to the window she went,
She heard her kye lowin' o'er hill and o'er bent;
"O, rise up, bold Brackley and turn back your kye,
For the lads o'Drumwharren are drivin'them by."

"How can I rise, lady, or turn them again?
For where I hae ae man I wat they hae ten."
She's ca'd on her Maries to come ta her hand,
Says: "Bring your rocks, lasses, we will them command.
Gin I had a husband as I wat I hae nane,
He'd no' lie in his bed and see his kye ta'en".

"Now haud your tongue, Peggy, and gie me my gun,
Ye'll see me gang oot but I'll never come in.
Arise, Peggy Gordon and gie me my gun,
I will gang oot though I never come in.

Then kiss me, my Peggy, I'll nae langer stay,
For I will gang oot and meet Inverey."
When Brackley was ready and stood in the close,
A bonnier gallant ne'er mounted a horse.

"What'll come o'your lady and bonny young son?
O, what'll come o' them when Brackley is gone"
"Strike, dogs!" cries Inverey, "fecht till you're slain,
For we are four hunder and ye are four men.

Strike, you proud boaster, your honour is gone
Your lands we will plunder, your castel we'll burn."
At the head o' the Etnach the battle began,
At little Aucholzie they killed the first man.

At first they killed ae man and syne they killed twa,
Then the Baron o'Brackley, the flooer o' them a'.
They killed William Gordon and James o' the Knock,
And brave Alexander, the flooer o' Glenmuick.

Whit sighin' and moanin' was heard in the glen,
For the Baron o' Brackley wha basely was slaln.
Cam' ye by Brackley yetts, cam' ye by there?
And saw ye his Peggy, a-tearin' her hair?

O, I was by Brackley yetts, I cam' by there
And I saw Peggy Gordon a-braidin' her hair.
She was rantin' and dancing and singin' for joy,
She swore that ere nicht she would feast Inverney;

She ate wi' him, drank wi' him, welcomed him in
Was kin to the man wha had slain her baron.
O, fye on ye lady, how could ye dae sae?
Ye opened the yetts tae the fause Inverney.
There's dule in the kitchen and mirth in the ha'
That the Baron o' Brackley is deid and awa'.
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The Beggarman
Also called Johnny Dhu and Little Beggarman
Traditional
Sheet music and midi http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=BEGGARDH&tt=BEGGARDH

Well, I am a little beggarman an' beggin' I have been
Threescore years and more in this little Isle of Green
I'm known from the Liffey way down to Killaloe
And the name that I'm known by is Old Johnny Dhu

Of all the trades an' callin's, sure, beggin' is the best
For when a man is weary, he can aye sit down an' rest
He can beg for his dinner, he has nothin' else to do
Only toddle around the corner with his old rigadoo

(CHORUS: Improvised to music. )

Well, I slept in a barn way down by Killavone
On a dark and stormy night and sleepin' all alone
With holes in the roof and the rain a-comin' through
And the rats and the mice they were playin' peek-a-boo

O, then, who did waken but the woman of the house
With her white spotty apron and her calico blouse
She began to cry and when I said: Boo
O, now, don't you be afraid o' me, it's only Johnny Dhu

CHORUS

Well, I met a little flaxen-haired girl the other day
Good morning to you, flaxen-haired girl, I did say
Good morning, Johnny Beggarman, there's how do ye do?
With your rags and your bags and your old rigadoo

Well, I'll buy ye a pair o' trousers, a collar and a tie
And a nice little lassie then I'll fetch her by an' by
I'll buy a pair of goggles, and I'll paint them up so blue
And that nice little lassie, I'll be her lover, too

CHORUS

Well, it's over the road, wi' me bag upon me back
It's over the fields wi' me big haver-sack
With holes in me shoes and me toes peepin' through
Singing: Tithery-ump-a-daddy, sure, I'm old Johnny Dhu

So now my song is ended and I'll bid you's all good night
The fires are all raked and it's out with the light
And now you've heard the story of the old rigadoo
It's good luck and God be wid you's and to old Johnny, too

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Basket Of Oysters

Variant from Songs of the People, Henry http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=OYSTRGAL&tt=OYSTRGAL

As I was walking down a London Street,
A pretty little oyster girl, I chanced for to meet.
I lifted up her basket and boldly I did peek,
Just to see if she's got any oysters.

"Oysters, Oysters, Oysters", said she.
"These are the finest oysters that you will ever see.
I'll sell them three-a-penny but I give 'em to you free,
'Cause I see you're a lover of oysters."

"Landlord, Landlord, Landlord", says I.
"Have you got a little room that's empty and nearby.
Where me and the pretty little oyster girl may lie,
When we bargain for her basket of oysters."

We hadn't been upstairs for a quarter hour more,
When that pretty little oyster girl opened up the door,
She picked my pockets and then down the stair she tore,
She left with her basket of oysters.

"Landlord, Landlord, Landlord", I cried.
"Did you see that little oyster girl drinking by my side?
She's gone and picked my pocket", but the landlord just replied,
"You shouldn't be so fond of your oysters."

Now all you young men be advised by me,
If you meet a pretty oyster girl and you would merry be,
Sew the pockets of your trousers and throw away the key,
Or you'll never get a taste of her oysters.
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The Bastard King of England
-attributed to Rudyard Kipling, but probably not!

Oh the minstrels sing of an English King of many long years ago
who ruled his Land with an iron hand though his morals were weak and low
his only outer garment was a dirty yellow shirt
with which he served to hide his hide, but he couldn't hide the dirt
He was dirty, and lousy, and full of fleas
but a Royal Tool hung to his knees
God bless the Bastard King of England!
Now the Queen of Spain was an amorous Jane, a lascivious wench was she
who heard about the prowess of this King from over the sea
so she sent a Royal Message by a Royal Messenger
to ask the King of England to spend the night with her
He was dirty and lousy and full of fleas
but he kept his women by twos and threes....
God Bless the Bastard King of England!
When Philip of France heard of this chance, he swore before his Court
"The Queen prefers my rival just because mine's...somewhat short."
So he sent the Count of Zippety-Zap
to give to the Queen a Dose of Clap
to pass it on to the Bastard King of England!
When the King of England heard the news, he cursed the Gaelic farce
and he up and swore by the Royal Whore he'd have the Frenchman's arse
So he offered half his Kingdom, and a piece of Queen Hortense
To any Royal Subject who'd undo the King of France
So the brave young Duke of Buckingham went instantly to France
He swore he was a fruitier; the King took down his pants.
So in front of the throng he slipped on a thong
and jumped on his horse and he galloped along
dragging the Frenchman back to Merrie England!
When the King of England saw the sight he fainted dead on the floor,
for during the ride his rival's hide had stretched...a yard...or more!
and all the girls of England came down to London Town
and shouted round the battlements "To hell with the British Crown!"
So Philip of France usurped the Throne
his scepter was his Royal Bone
with which he bitched the Bastard King of England!
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Belfast Mill

On the east end of town, by the foot of the hill
There's a chimney so tall, says Belfast Mill
But there's no smoke at all comin' out of the stack
For the mill has shut down, and it's never comin' back

Chorus:

And the only tune I hear is the sound of the wind
As she blows through the town, we then spin, we then spin
There's no children playin down the dark lonely streets
For the mill has shut down, so quiet I can't sleep
The mill has shut down, 'twas the only life I know
Tell me where will I go, tell me where will I go

Chorus

Well I'm to old to work, and I'm too young to die
Tell me where will I go, my family and I

Chorus

At the east end of town, by the foot of the hill
There's a chimney so tall, says Belfast Mill
But there's no smoke at all comin' out of the stack
For the mill has shut down, and it's never comin' back

Chorus X2
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B-I-M-B-O

http://www.applink.net/wolfpack/past/sngfram2.html

By: Anonymous (because nobody will take the blame for it)

There was a girl that went to Crown
And Bimbo was her name-o
B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O, B-I-M-B-O,
And Bimbo was her name-o!

There was a girl that went to Crown,
She had large tracts of land-o
(Gesture for big tits)-I-M-B-O etc.
And Bimbo was her name-o

There was a girl that went to Crown
Her talents they were many-o
(gesture for a nice body) (Gesture for big tits)-M-B-O
etc.
And Bimbo was her name-o

There was a girl that went to Crown
And she made very merry-o
(throw arms in air and yell "whee!")
(gesture for a nice body)
(Gesture for big tits)-B-O etc.
And Bimbo was her name-o

There was a girl that went to Crown
And she was made the Queen-o
(put Crown on head)
(throw arms in air and yell "whee!")
(gesture for a nice body)
(Gesture for big tits)-O etc.

And Bimbo was her name-o
There was a girl that went to Crown
And she got very pissy-o
(point to various members of audience, and say: "You're
banished, and you're banished, and....")
(put Crown on head)
(throw arms in air and yell "whee!")
(gesture for a nice body)
(Gesture for big tits)
And Bimbo was her name-o
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