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Index Mf to Mz |
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Minhanif and Daindella Removed |
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Mighty Casey
Filked by Edmound Bernhard
(With apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer)
The field was terribly vicious
For the tourney list that day
A Baby Knight from Ansteorra
Seemed poised to have his way
So when Jago was one-shotted
And Bertrond had lost both arms
A mood of deep depression
Fell over the Outlands Charms
The lesser fighters bereft of lives
Made way back to the camp
But the older Outlands fighters
Would stay to see the champ
They said "If only Casey
Had had a chance to fight
We'd have a chance to win our luck
Against this Rhino-Hide
Then suddenly their eyes lit up
A cry rose from their Lords
It echoed off the polearms
It rattled off the swords
It rumbled through the valley
Where Outlandish fighters healed
For Casey, Mighty Casey
Was about to take the field
His helm was brightly shining
His leathers richly tanned
His breastplate layered titanium
(Which cost him half a grand)
The shield upon his mighty arm
Was golden from afar
Between his teeth he coolly clenched
A really good cigar
The Outlands fighters now revived
Together in one light
Would cheer the mighty Casey on
In this, his greatest fight
There was ease in Casey's manner
As his new opponent met
His hands were steady as a rock
His brow was free of sweat
"One quick blow" he murmured
As he looked up to the sky
Then bowing only to his Queen
He launched into the fight
The cool is drained from Casey's face
His eyes are hard and keen
And all along his sun-drenched brow
Great furrows can be seen
And now he calmly grips his sword
And now he makes his throw
And Now The Air Is SHATTERED
By the force of Casey's blow
*****
Oh somewhere in the Knowne Worlde
There is a Happy Place
Where Gentle Lords and Ladies
Lie oblivious in their grace
But there is no joy in the Outlands
Upon this sultry night
For the foe of Mighty Casey
Has called his great blow "Light"
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THE MOLECATCHER
In Wellington town at the sign of the plough
There lived a molecatcher, shall I tell you how?
Singing to rel i day fol di lie laddie lie laddie di day
He'd go a molecatching from morning to night
And a young fellow came for to play with his wife
The molecatcher jealous of this very same thing
He hid in the wash house to see him come in
He saw the young fellow come over the stile
Which caused the molecatcher so crafty to smile
He knocked on the door and thus he did say
"Where is your husband, good woman, I pray?"
"He's gone a-molecatching, you need never fear"
But little did she think the molecatcher was near
She went up the stairs and gave him the sign
And the molecatcher followed them quickly behind
And while the young fellow was up to his frolics
The molecatcher caught him right fast by his bollocks
The trap it squeezed tighter, which caused him to smile
Saying, "Here's the best mole that I've caught in a while"
"I'll make you pay dearly for tilling my ground
And the money it'll cop you no less than ten pound"
"Ten pound," says the young fellow, "That I don't mind
It only works out about tuppence a grind"
So come all you young fellows and mind what you're at
And don't get 'em caught in the molecatcher's trap
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Molly Brannigan
Recorded by John McCormack
http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=MOLLBRAN&tt=MOLLBRAN
Ma'am dear, did ye never hear of pretty Molly Brannigan?
In troth, then, she's left me and I'll never be a man again.
Not a spot on my hide will a summer's sun e'er tan again
Since Molly's gone and left me here alone for to die.
The place where my heart was you'd aisy rowl a turnip in,
'Tis large as all Dublin, and from Dublin to the Divil's glen:
If she'd wish'd to take another, sure she might have left mine back again
And not have gone and left me here alone for to die.
Ma'am dear, I remember when the milking time was past and gone
We strolled thro' the meadow, and she swore I was the only one
That ever she could love, but oh! the base and cruel one,
For all I that she's left me here alone for to die.
Ma'am dear, I remember when coming home the rain began,
I wrapt my frieze-coat round her and ne'er a waistcoat had I on
And my shirt was rather fine-drawn, but oh! the false and cruel one,
For all that she's left me here alone for to die.
The left side of my carcase is as weak as water gruel, ma'am,
There's not a pick upon my bones, since Molly's proved so cruel ma'am
Oh! if I had a blunder gun, I'd go and fight a duel, ma'am,
For sure I'd better shoot myself than live here to die.
I'm cool an' determined as any salamander, ma'am,
Won't you come to my wake when I go the long meander, ma'am?
I'll think myself as valiant as the famous Alexander, ma'am
When I hear ye cryin' o'er me, "Arrah! why did ye die?"
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Molly Malone
(Traditional http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lyrics/molly.html)
In Dublin's fair city where girls are so pretty
'Twas there that I first met sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow
Through street broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
Chorus
Alive, alive oh, alive, alive oh,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
Now she was a fishmonger and sure 'twas no wonder
For so were her mother and father before
And they each wheeled their barrows
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
Chorus...
She died of a fever and no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
Now her ghost wheels her barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
Chorus
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Molly Malone II
-Ioseph of Locksley
In Dublin's fair city, where the girls have no titties
'Twas there that I first met sweet Molly Malone
You could have her for a penny, and be one of many,
But for sixpence she would act alive, alive-o!
Alive, alive-o! Alive alive-o!
But for sixpence she would act alive, alive-o!
She was a street walker, and sure 'twas no wonder
For so were her mother and grandmother too,
With a mattress on the barrow, thru streets broad and narrow,
And for sixpence they would act alive, alive-o!
Alive, alive-o! Alive alive-o!
And for sixpence they would act alive, alive-o!
She died of a fever, and no one could save her;
It was caught from a folkie from Ontario,
Now her ghost wheels the barrow thru streets broad and narrow
But a ghost can't be had that's alive, alive-o!
Alive, alive-o! Alive alive-o!
But a ghost can't be had that's alive, alive-o!
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When I was a young girl, and very protected
I thought that a Mongol was to be decried
But now I am older and I have different values
And I've learned that a Mongol cannot be denied
And I say to myself, this is not what I planned
All this burning and looting, and pillaging towns
I might have been Queen, but things turned out different
And if you've got knives you've no need for a Crown
One day as I went walking alone by the river
I came on a Mongol who there changed my life
He had me, I had him, and we had each other
I bore him a son, and he took me to wife (in that order!)
And I say to myself, as I dress for the wars
In my leathers and furs, with my braids hanging down
My life may be strange, but its never been boring
And if you've got knives, you've no need for a Crown
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The Moose Song
-Thomas Payton, et. al.
(tune: "Betsy From Pike")
When I was a young girl (man) I used to like boys (girls),
I fondled their tights (bodies) and played with their toys (curls),
But me boy (girl) friend ran off with a salesman named Bruce,
You'd never get treatment like that from a Moose!
CHORUS: So it's Moose, Moose, I like a Moose,
I've never had anything quite like a Moose,
I've had many lovers, my life has been loose,
But I've never had anything quite like a Moose!
Now when I'm in need of a very good lay,
I go to me stables and gets me some hay,
I opens me window and spreads it around,
'Cause Moose always comes when there's hay on the ground!
Now I've made it with all kinds of beasties with hair,
I'd make it with snakes if their fangs were not there,
I've made it with walrus, two ducks and a goose,
But I've never had anything quite like a Moose!
Now gorillas are fine for a Saturday night,
And lions and tigers, they puts up a fight,
But it just ain't the same when you slams your caboose
As the feeling you gets when you humps with a Moose!
I've tried many beasties on land or on sea
I've even tried hump-backs that humped back on me!
Sharks are quite good, though they're hard to pull loose
But on dry land there is nothing quite like a moose!
Woodchucks are all right except that they bite
And foxes and rabbits won't last thru the night!
Cows would be fun, but they're hard to seduce
But you never need worry should you find a moose!
Step in my study, and trophies you'll find
A black striped tiger and scruffy maned lion
You'll know the elephant by his ivory tooth
And the one that's a-winking, you know is the moose!
The lion succumbed to a thirty-ought-six
Machine guns and tigers I've proved do not mix
The elephant fell by a bomb with a fuse
But I won't tell a soul how I did in the moose!
I've found many women attracted to me
A few of them have had me over for tea
Some say that they love me when they're feeling loose
But I'd trade the world's women for one lovely moose!
The good Lord made Adam, and then He made Eve
Said He: "If you sin now, I'll ask you to leave!"
They left not because of Eve's forbidden fruit
But 'cause Adam decided the moose there were cute!
The English are said to like boars who've had corn
The Celtics just dream of the young Unicorn
The Germans, it's said, just need leather and rope
But give me a moose and I'll no longer mope!
Now I've broken the laws in this god-awful state
They've put me in prison and locked up the gate
They say that tomorrow I'll swing from a noose
But my last night I'll spend with a good sexy moose!
Next morning the Governor's word reached my ears
"We've commuted your sentence to ninety-nine years!"
"You won't get parole; not a five minute's truce,
And your friend goes to Sing-Sing, he's so big-a-moose!"
(slowly) Now that I'm old and advanced in me years,
I'll look back on me life, and I'll shed me no tears,
As I sit in me chair with me glass of Mateuse,
And play hide the salami with Marvin (Millie) the Moose!
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Mull of Kintyre
Mull of Kintyre, Oh Mists rolling in from the sea
My Desire is always to be here, Oh, Mull of Kintyre
Far I have traveled and much I have seen
Far distant mountains with valleys of green
Vast painted deserts with sunsets on fire
As he carries me home to the Mull of Kintyre
Mull of Kintyre, Oh Mists rolling in from the sea
My Desire is always to be here, On Mull of Kintyre
Sweet through the heather, right here in the glen
Carry me back to the days I knew when
Nights when we sang like a heavenly choir
Oh the Knights and the times of the Mull of Kintyre
Mull of Kintyre, Oh Mists rolling in from the sea
My Desire is always to be here, Oh, Mull of Kintyre
Smiles in the sunshine and tears in the rain
Still takes me back where my memories remain
Flickering embers grow higher and higher
As they carry me back to the Mull of Kintyre
Mull of Kintyre, Oh Mists rolling in from the sea
My Desire is always to be here, Oh, Mull of Kintyre
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My Irish Molly-O
(Traditional[?])
http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=IRSHMOLL&tt=IRSHMOLL
Molly dear now did you hear, the news that's goin' round?
Down in a corner of my heart, a love is what you've found. And
Every time I look into your Irish eyes so blue. They
seem to whisper 'Darling boy, my love is all for you.' Oh,
Chorus:
Molly, my Irish Molly, my sweet acushla
dear I'm fairly off my trolley, my Irish
Molly, When you are near. Springtime, you know is
ring time. Come dear and don't be slow,
Change your name, go out with game,
Begora wouldn't I do the same
my Irish Molly O!
Molly dear now did you hear I furnished up the flat.
Three little cozy rooms with bath and a 'welcome' on the mat.
It's five pounds down and two a week, we'll soon be out of debt.
It's all complete except, they haven't brought the cradle yet.
Chorus!
Molly dear now did you hear what all the neighbors say.
About the hundred sovereigns you have safely stowed away.
They say that's why I love you. Ah but Molly that's a shame
If you had only ninety-nine I'd love you just the same.
Chorus!
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My love
My heart is like a flower for my love,
That blooms as I hold it tenderly,
But it’s rooted deep in fear,
Just as ready as a fear,
That whispers that his love is not for me.
Chorus
My love is true for all is heart it is true,
And I pray, that his love is mine.
My love is like the first star of the night,
That brightens up the worlds first darkness,
That love story’s very old,
A million times been told,
His eyes are worth more than bright diamonds.
Chorus
Instrumental Verse
Chorus
My love at night in my dark lonesome room,
I lie awake a silent dreaming,
Although you’re not very near,
Still I can hear,
Your proud and tender heart a beating.
Chorus
Short instrumental verse to end
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My Old Man
Text lifted from Uncle Justininian's Songbook, except for the bard, knight and fop verses, which were written by Roger of York, Othar Morganson, and Muire Ultach (with revisions), respectively
My old man's a fighter. What do you think about that?
He wears a fighter's tabard, he wears a fighter's hat,
He wears a fighting tunic, and he wears fighter's shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, he reads the daily news.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a fighter, just like my old man.
My old man's a baron.
What do you think about that?
He wears a baron's tabard, he wears a nice gold hat,
He wears a baron's tunic, and he wears leather shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, some one reads him the news.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a baron, just like my old man.
My old man's the king.
What do you think about that?
He wears a kingdom tabard, he wears a pointy hat,
He wears embroidered tunics, and he wears pointy shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, he makes the front page news.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be the king, just like my old man.
My old man's a herald.
What do you think about that?
He wears a herald's tabard, he wears a wide brimmed hat,
He wears a herald's tunic, and he wears sensible shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, he cries the daily news.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a herald, and shout at my old man.
My old man's a merchant.
What do you think about that?
He'll sell you any tabard, he'll sell you any hat,
Hell sell you any tunic, he'll sell you any shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, his children shout: PENNSIC DAILY TIDINGS, ONLY FIFTY CENTS!
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a merchant, and sell you my old man.
My old man's a Pelican.
What do you think about that?
Hell help you make a tabard, he'll help you buy a hat,
Hell help you sew a tunic, he'll help you pick out shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, he helps put out the news.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a Pelican, and help out my old man.
My old man's a Tuchuk.
What do you think about that?
He doesn't own a tabard, he has a fake fur hat,
He doesn't wear a tunic, he hasn't any shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, he eats the daily news.
And some day, if I can, I don't want to be a Tuchuk, not like my old man.
My old man's a Laurel.
What do you think about that?
He wears a completely authenticated, fully documented tabard,
And a completely authenticated, fully documented hat,
And a completely authenticated, fully documented tunic,
And completely authenticated, fully documented shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, he refuses to read the Pennsic Daily Tidings
Because his persona would not have been able to understand English.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a Laurel, and criticize my old man.
My old man's a bard.
What do you think about that?
He'll sing for a tabard, and then he'll pass his hat,
He'll sing about his tunic, and he'll sing and tap his shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, he sings about the news.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a bard, and sing about my old man.
My old man's a knight.
What do you think about that?
He wears a gold chain o'er his tabard, he wears an iron cap,
He wears a white belt round his tunic, and spurs on his shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, his squires bring him the news.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a knight, just like my old man.
My old man's a fop.
What do you think about that?
He wears a frilly tabard, he wears a floppy hat,
He wears lace tunics, and very pointy shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, he makes the fashion news.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a fop, and swish like my old man.
My old man's a stick jock.
What do you think about that?
He wears faded blue jeans, he wears a baseball cap,
He wears a dirty tee-shirt, and white Nike shoes,
And every day at Pennsic, he fights.
And some day, if I can, I'm going to be a stick jock, and beat up my old man.
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