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-Traditional
Some friends and I in a public house
Was playin'Dominoes one night
When into the room a fireman came,
his face all chalky-white.
"What's up?" says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost?
Have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
"Oh me Aunt Mariah be bugged," says he,
"The bleedin'pub's on fire!"
"Oh," says Brown, "What a bit o'luck,
everybody follow me.
It's down to the cellar, if the fire's not there,
Oh, we'll have a grand old spree."
So we all went down with good old Brown
And the booze we could not miss
We hadn't been there ten minutes or more
'Til we were quite like this ----
CHORUS
Aaaaaaaaaaand...
There was Brown, upside down,
A moppin'up the whiskey on the floor
"Booze, booze!", the fireman cried
as they come a-knockin'at the door. (thump thump)
"Oh, don't let 'em in 'til it's all mopped up."
Somebody shouted "MacIntyre!"
And we all got blue-blind, paralytic drunk,
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.
Then Smith run over to the port wine tub
And gave it a few hard knocks (Thump thump)
Started takin'off his pantaloons, likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on," says Brown, "That ain't allowed.
You can't do that there here.
Don't go washin'your trotters in the port wine tub
When we got Guinness's beer!"
CHORUS
And then there came a mighty crash,
Half the bloody roof caved in.
We was drowned in the firemen's hose,
Though we were almost .... happy.
So we got some tacks and old wet sacks,
And we tacked ourselves inside.
And we sat there getting bleary-eyed drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.
By Francis Semphill of Beltrees (From The Tannahill Weavers: Dancing Feet)
Wha wadna be in love
Wi'bonnie Maggie Lauder?
A piper met her gaun to Fife
And spier'd what was't they ca'd her
Richt scornfully she answered him,
Begone you hallanshaker!
Jog on your gate, you bladderskate!
My name is Maggie Lauder.
Maggie! quoth he; and, by my bags
I'm fidgin fain to see thee!
Sit doun by me, my bonnie bird;
In troth I winna steer the
For I'm a piper to my trade;
By name is Rob the Ranter;
The lassies loup as they were daft
When I blow up my chanter
Piper, quo Meg, hae ye your bags,
Or is your drone in order?
If ye be Rob, I've heard o'you;
Live you upo'the Border?
The lassies a', baith far and near
Have heard the o'Rob the Ranter;
I'll shake the foot wi'richt gude will
Gif ye'll blaw up your chanter
Then to his bag he flew wi'speed;
About the drone he twisted;
Meg up and wallop'd oweer the green
For brawly could she frisk it!
Weel done! quo he, Play up, quo she
Weel bob'd! quo Rob the Ranter;
Its worth my while to play, indeed
When I have sic a dancer!
Weel hae ye play'd your part! quo Meg;
Your cheeks are like the crimson!
There's nane in Scotland plays sae weel,
Sin'we lost Habbie Simson.
I've lived in Fife, baith maid and wife,
For ten years and a quarter;
Gin ye should come to the Anster Fair,
Spier ye for Maggie Lauder.
The magpie is a most illustrious bird,
Dwells in a diamond tree,
One brings sorrow and one brings joy,
Sorrow and joy for me.
The magpie is a most royal bird,
Black and blue as night,
Would that I had feathers three,
Black and blue and white.
Two magpies alighted on a rampart ledge,
Just as the sun broke red,
The siege is over and my lord returns,
But my brother in the field lays dead,
My brother in the field lays dead.
I saw the gentle magpie birds,
In dusky yester eve,
One brought sorrow and one brought joy,
And sooner than soon did leave,
Brought sorrow and joy for me,
Sorrow and joy for me.
Recorded by Clancey Bros on Home boys Home
Midi and sheet http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=OLDMAID2&tt=OLDMAID2
Now I've often heard it said from me father and me mother
That the going tae a wedding is the making of another
Well, if this be true, I will go without a biddin'
O kind providence, won't you send me tae a wedding
CHORUS
And its O dear me, how would it be,
if I die an old maid in a garret
Well, there's my sister Jean, she's not handsome or good
looking
Scarcely sixteen and a fella she was courting
Now at twenty-four with a son and a daughter
Here am I at forty-five and I've never had an offer
I can cook and I can sew and I can keep the house right tidy
Rise up in the morning and get the breakfast ready
There's nothing in this whole world would make me half so cheery
As a wee fat man to call me his own deary
So come landsman or come pinsman, come tinker or come tailor
Come fiddler or come dancer, come ploughboy or come sailor
Come rich man, come poor man, come fool or come witty
Come any man at all that will marry me for pity
Well now I'm away home for nobody's heeding
Nobody's heeding and nobody's pleading
I'll go away to my own bitty garret
If I can't get a man, then I'll have to get a parrot
The maid of the Sweet brown Knowe
Recorded by Burl Ives and Clancy’s
Words only http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=BRNKNOWE
Come all ye lads and lasses and hear my mournful tale,
Ye tender hearts that weep for love to sigh you will not fail,
'Tis all about a young man and my song will tell you how
He lately came a courting of the Maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe.
Said he, 'My pretty fair maid, could you and I agree,
To join our hands in wedlock bands, and married we will be;
We'll join our hands in wedlock bands, and you'll have my
plighted vow,
That I'll do my whole endeavors for the Maid of the Sweet Brown
Knowe.'
Now this young and pretty fickle thing, she knew not what to
say,
Her eyes did shine like silver bright and merrily did play;
Says she,'Young man, your love subdue, I am not ready now,
And I'll spend another season at the foot of the Sweet Brown
Knowe.
From the singing of Jake Mitchell of Peterhead.
Midi and sheet http://sniff.numachi.com/~rickheit/dtrad/lookup.cgi?ti=MARYMACK&tt=MARYMACK
There's a nice wee lass and her name's Mary Mac
Make no mistake, she's the miss I'm going to take
There's a lot of other chaps that would get up on her track
But I'm thinking that they'd have to get up early.
Chorus
Mary Mac's father's making Mary Mac marry me
My father's making me marry Mary Mac
And I'm going to marry Mary
To get married and take care of me
We'll all be making merry when I marry Mary Mac
Now this wee lass she has a lot of brass
She has a lot of gas and her father thinks I'm class
So I'd be a silly ass to let the matter pass
Her father thinks she suits me fairly.
Chorus
Now Mary and her Mither gain an awful lot together
In fact you never see the one or the one without the other
And the fellows often wonder if it's Mary or her mither
Or the both of them together that I'm courtin'
Chorus
Now the wedding day's on Wednesday and everything's arranged
Her name will soon be changed to mine unless her mind be changed
And we're making the arrangements and I'm just a bit deranged
For marriage is an awful undertakin'
Chorus
It's sure to be a grand affair and grander than a fair
There's going to be a coach and pair for every couple there
We'll dine upon the finest fare I'm sure to get my share
If I don't we'll all be very much mistaken.
Chorus