52 Folk Songs: Blue

by Phil Edwards

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1.
The King sits in Dunfermline town Drinking the blood red wine, And it's "Where can I get me a fine mariner To sail seven ships of mine?" Then up spoke a fine young man Sat at the King's right knee, "Sir Patrick Spens is the finest sailor That ever sailed upon the sea." So the King has written a broad letter And signed it with his own right hand, And he's sent it to Sir Patrick Spens Walking on Leith strand. And the very first line Sir Patrick read, A loud loud laugh gave he And the very last line Sir Patrick read, The salt tears filled his eye. "O who is he has done this deed And told the King of me? For never was I a fine mariner Nor ever do intend to be. O who is he has done this deed, This ill deed done to me? To send me out his time of year To sail all on the sea. "But rise up, rise up, my merry men all, Our ship she sails in the morn Whether it's windy, whether it's fair, Whether there's hail and storm, Late yest'reen I saw the new moon With the old moon in her arms, And I fear, I fear a deadly storm Our ship she'll come to harm." They hadn't been sailing a league, a league, Leagues but barely three, When cold and watery blew the winds And grumly grew the sea. They hadn't been sailing a league, a league, Leagues but barely nine, When the wind and the wet and the sleet and snow Came blowing up behind. "O where can I find me a little cabin boy To take the helm in hand While I climb up to the topmast high To see if I can't spy land?" "Come down, come down, Sir Patrick Spens! We fear that we all must die. For in and out of the good ship's hull The wind and the ocean fly." And the very first step that he took upon the deck The water it came to his knee And the very last step that he took upon the deck They drowned they were in the sea And many was the fine feather bed That floated all on the foam And many was the little lord's son That never never more came home And it's long, long may their ladies sit With their fans all in their hands Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing along Leith strand For it's fifty miles to Aberdeen shore It's fifty fathoms deep And there does lie Sir Patrick Spens With the little lords at his feet.
2.
An outlandish knight came from the northlands And he's courted a lady fair He said he would take me to those northern lands And there he would marry her. 'O fetch me some of your father's gold, And some of your mother's fee, And two of the best horses from out of the stable Where there stand thirty and three.' She fetched him some of her father's gold, And some of her mother's fee, And two of the best horses from out of the stable Where there stood thirty and three. She mounted on her milkwhite steed And he on the dapple grey, They rode till they came to the northern shore Three hours before it was day. 'Light off, light off your milk white steed Tether it to yonder tree For six pretty maidens have I drowned here And the seventh will surely be thee. 'And take off, take off your silken robes, And deliver them unto me, For I do think that they are too fine To rot all in the salt sea. 'And take off, take off your fine Holland smock, And deliver it unto me, For I do think that it is too fine To rot all in the salt sea.' 'If I must take off my fine Holland smock Then turn your back on me, For it is not fitting for such a rogue A naked woman to see.' He's turned his back all on that maid And looked at the leaves so green She's taken him by the middle so small, And tumbled him into the stream. Sometimes he sank, sometimes he swam, Until he came to the side. 'Catch hold of my hand, my fair pretty maid And then I will make you my bride.' 'Lie there, lie there, you false-hearted man, Lie there instead of me, For six pretty maidens hast thou drowned here And the seventh has drowned thee.' She mounted on her lilywhite horse, She's led the dapple grey, She rode till she came to her father's hall Three hours before it was day. Now the parrot being in the window so high, Hearing the lady, he did say: 'I feared that some ruffian had led you astray, You tarried so long away.' The king being in the bedroom so high, Hearing the parrot did say, 'What ails thee, what ails thee, my pretty Polly, You're prattling so long before day?' 'Don't prittle, don't prattle, my pretty Polly, Tell no tales of me, And your cage shall be all of the glittering gold, Though now it is made of a tree.' 'It's no laughing matter,' the parrot did say, 'So loudly I call upon thee, For the cats have got into my bedroom so high And I fear they're the death of me.' 'Well turned, well turned, my pretty Polly, Well turned, well turned for me. Your cage shall be all of the glittering gold And the spokes of the best ivory.'
3.
03:53
True Thomas lay on Huntlie bank He spied a wonder with his eye For there he saw a lady bright Come riding down by the Eildon tree Her skirt was of the grass green silk Her mantle of the velvet fine At every lock of her horse's mane Hung fifty silver bells and nine True Thomas he pulled off his cap And bowed low down on his knee "All hail thou mighty queen of heaven For your like on earth I never did see" "O no, o no, Thomas" she said "That name does not belong to me I am but the queen of fair Elfland That here am come to visit thee "Harp and carp, Thomas," she said "Harp and carp along with me But if ye dare to kiss my lips Sure of your body I will be" "Betide me weal, betide me woe That fate shall never daunton me" And he has kissed her rosy lips All underneath the Eildon tree. "Now you must go with me she said "True Thomas, you must go with me; And you must serve me seven years Through weal or woe as chance may be" She's mounted on her milk white steed She's drawn true Thomas up behind And every time her bridle rung The steed flew swifter than the wind O they rode on, and they rode on They waded rivers to the knee And they saw neither sun nor moon But heard the roaring of the sea It was dark, dark night with no starlight They waded red blood to the knee For all the blood that's shed in this world Runs in the springs of that country Then they came to a garden green She pulled an apple from a tree "Take this and eat, Thomas," she said, "'Twill give you a tongue that cannot lie" "My tongue's my own," true Thomas said A goodly gift you'd give to me I'd never dare to buy nor sell At fair or tryst where I may be." "Now hold your tongue," the lady said "For as I say, so must it be. But bide ye here a little space And I will show you wonders three "O see ye now yon narrow road So thick beset with thorns and briers That is the road of righteousness Though after it but few enquire. "And see ye now that broad road That lies across the lily leven That is the path of wickedness Though some call it the road to heaven "And see ye now that bonny road That winds across the fernie brae That is the road to fair Elfland Where you and I this night must go. "But hold your tongue, Thomas," she said, "Whatever you may hear or see For, speak a word in Elfin land And you'll ne'er return to your own country." He's got a coat of the even cloth And a pair of shoes of velvet green And till seven years were gone and past True Thomas on earth was never seen.
4.
I live alone in old Carntyne Where sorrow fills the bars I walk beside the Firth of Clyde In winter's lonely hours. In winter walks I still recall The love that I let go I close the door and love no more I watch the swollen tide flow - She gave me the keys to the forest, The keys to the forest, And then, She gave me the keys to the forest, And then the forest was mine. I met her on the edge of town Her hand was in her hair She smiled at me so dangerously Resistance was laid bare. I laid her in a wooded glen Where good men disappear Her willing hand caressed the land She left me lying there - She gave me the keys to the forest... The forest filled my heart with fear As I lay there alone I saw the names of unknown men Carved in the shining stone I fell apart in stinging rain Cold fingers tore at my mind Inhuman force possessed my source And left me dumb and blind - She gave me the keys to the forest... Yea though I lie in ghostly latrines My hand in another man's piss My face is wet on shining stone I still can feel her kiss And now the pictures on my wall Display no sign of life The branches bare, the dead man's stare And dried blood on the leaf
5.
A holiday, a holiday The first of all the year Musgrave to the church did go To see fair ladies there And some came down in red velvet And some came down in pall And the last to come down was the lady Barnard The fairest of them all "Good day to you, young man," she said, "God keep you safe and free. What would you give this day, Musgrave, To spend one night with me?" "I dare not for my lands, lady I dare not for my life For the ring on your white finger tells me You are Lord Barnard’s wife." "Lord Barnard he’s to the hunting gone And I hope he’ll never return And you shall creep into his bed And keep his lady warm. "There nothing is to fear, Musgrave, You nothing have to fear I’ll set a page by my chamber door To see that none comes near." But the page, he was Lord Barnard's man And there he would not bide And he was away to the green wood As fast as he could ride And when he came to the wide water He fell on his belly and swam And when he came to the other side He took to his heels and ran And when he came to the green wood The night was dark and deep And he found Lord Barnard and his men Asleep beneath a tree "Rise up, rise up, master," he said "Rise up most speedily, Your wife’s in bed with another man Rise up and follow me!" "Now if this be true that you tell to me Then gold shall be your fee And if it be false that you tell to me Then hanged you shall be." "Go saddle me the black," he said Go saddle me the bay And sound not the horn as we ride along Lest our coming it betray." Now there was a man in Lord Barnard’s train Who loved the little Musgrave And he blew his horn both loud and shrill "Away, Musgrave, away!" "I think I hear the morning cock I think I hear the jay I think I hear Lord Barnard’s men: Away, Musgrave, away!" "Lie still, lie still, little Musgrave Keep me from the cold It’s nothing but a shepherd boy Driving his flock to the fold. "Is not your hawk upon its perch Your steed is eating hay And you with a gay lady in your arms And yet you would away?" So he’s turned him three times round about Till he fell fast asleep And when he awoke Lord Barnard’s men Were standing at his feet And it's "How do you like my bed, Musgrave? How do you like my sheets? And how do you like my false lady That lies in your arms asleep?" "Right well I like your bed," he said, "And well I like your sheets But better I like your fair lady That lies in my arms asleep." "Get up, get up young man," he said, "As swiftly as you can For it never will be said in my country I slew a naked man." "I have two swords in one scabbard Dear they cost my purse And you shall have the best of them I shall have the worst." Now the first blow that little Musgrave struck The wound was deep and sore But the first blow that little Musgrave took He fell and he never rose more "And how do you like his cheeks, lady And how do you like his chin And how do you like his fair young body Now there’s no life within?" "It’s well I like his cheeks," she said, "And well I like his chin And better I like his fair body Than all your kith and kin." He took his sword all in his hand The edge was keen and smart He struck his lady a mortal blow And pierced her through the heart "O I have slain the finest knight That ever strode a steed And I have slain the fairest lady That ever did a woman's deed." He set his sword all to the ground The point to his chest "Here's three souls to heaven bound, Pray that they find rest."
6.
02:06
Peaches in the summertime, Apples in the fall If I can't have the girl I love I won't have none at all. Shady Grove, my little love, Shady Grove, I know, Shady Grove, my little love, I'm bound for Shady Grove. Cheeks as red as the blooming rose Hair of the prettiest brown She's the darling of my heart, The prettiest girl in town. Wish I had a fine big horse Corn to feed him on And Shady Grove to stay at home And feed him while I'm gone. Used to have a zither of gold, Strung with golden twine The only tune that zither would play Was I wish that girl were mine. When I was a little boy I wanted a whittling knife Now I just want Shady Grove To love me and be my wife. Went to see my Shady Grove, She was standing at the door, Shoes and stockings in her hand, Little bare feet on the floor. Peaches in the summertime, Apples in the fall If I can't have the girl I love I won't have none at all. Shady Grove, my little love, Shady Grove my darlin', Shady Grove, my little love, I'm going back to Harlan.
7.
It's May she comes and May she goes down by the garden green And there she's spied as fine a squire as e'er her eyes had seen It's May she comes and May she goes down by that hollin tree And it's there she's spied the finest squire that e'er her eyes did see "Come give to me your green mantle, give to me your maidenhead If you won't give me your green mantle, give me your maidenhead." He's taken her by the milk-white hand and gently laid her down And when he raised her up again he's given her a silver comb "Perhaps there may be bairns, kind sir, perhaps there may be none. But if you be a courtier, pray tell to me your name" "Oh I am no courtier," he said, "but lately come from sea, No, I am no courtier," he said, "save when I courted thee. "They call me Jack when I'm abroad, sometimes they call me John But when I'm in my father's hall, Jock Randal is my name." "You lie, you lie, you false young man, so loud I hear you lie, For I am Lord Randal's only daughter, he has no one but I." "You lie, you lie, you bonny maid, so loud I hear you lie For I am Lord Randal's only son, he has no one but I." Then she has reached into her gown and out she's taken a knife She's thrust it in in her own heart's blood and taken away her life He's taken up his bonny sister with a salt tear in his eye And he has buried his own sister beneath the hollin tree Then he has hied him o'er the dale, his father dear to see Crying "O, sing O for my bonny hind beneath that hollin tree!" "What care you for your bonny hind? For it you need not care, For there's aught score hinds in yonder paddock, and five score of them to spare. "Four score of them are silver-shod, of them you may take three." "But O, sing O for my bonny hind beneath that hollin tree!" "What care you for your bonny hind? For it you need not care, Take you the best, leave me the rest, for it's plenty I've to spare." "I care not for your hinds, father, I care not for your fee. But O, sing O for my bonny hind beneath that hollin tree!" "If you were at your sister's bower, your sister fair to see Then you'd care no more for your bonny hind beneath that hollin tree."
8.
George Collins walked out on a May morning When May was all in bloom; There he espied a fair pretty maid Washing her marble stone. O she's whooped and she's hollered, she's highered her voice, Held up her lily-white hands, “Come hither to me, George Collins,” she said, “Your life shall not last you long.” He set his foot on the broad water strand, O'er the lea sprung he; He embraced her round the middle so small, Kissed her red ruby cheeks. George Collins rode home to his father's own gate, Crying, “Mother, make my bed, And I will trouble my dear sister For a napkin to tie round my head. "And if I should chance to die this night As I do think that I shall, Bury me under the marble stone That stands by fair Eleanor's wall.” Fair Eleanor sat in her room so fine Working a silken skein. She saw the finest corpse a-coming That ever the sun shone on. She called unto her Irish maid, “Whose corpse is this so fine?” “That is George Collins's corpse a-coming, That once was a true love of thine.” “Come lower him down, my six pretty lads, And open the coffin so fine That I might kiss those lily-white lips; Ten thousand times they have kissed mine. "And go you upstairs and fetch me the sheet That's sewn with the silken twine. Hang it over George Collins's face, Tomorrow it'll hang over mine.” The news was carried to fair London town, Wrote upon London's gate: Six pretty maids died all in one night, And all for George Collins's sake.
9.
The King sits in Dunfermline town, Drinking at the wine And he has called for the finest skipper In Fife or all the land. Then up and spoke an old man Sat at the King's right knee: "Sir Patrick Spens is the finest sailor That ever sailed the sea." The King has written a broad letter, And sealed it with his hand, And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, Walking on Leith strand. "To Norrowa, to Norrowa, To Norrowa o'er the foam; The King's own daughter of Norowa, 'Tis you shall bring her home." They had not been in Norrowa Weeks but barely three When all the lords of Norrowa Began to speak so free They said, "These outland Scots drink our good King's gold, They swallow our Queen's fee." Now woe be to the tongue that told Such a fearful lie. "Now how can this be?" said Sir Patrick Spens, "I pray you, tell it unto me, When the bows of our ship are wrought in gold, And we've ten chests of bright money. "But take heed, take heed, my good men all, Mind that you be forewarned, For cometh wind or cometh hail Our ship, she sails in the morn." Then up there spoke a weatherman, Saying "I fear we shall all be drowned, For late yest'reen I saw the new moon With the old moon in her arms." They had not sailed a league, a league, A league but barely one, When the bows of that good ship did crack And the salt sea did rush in. And loth, loth were those good Scots lords To wet their cork-heeled shoes But before the race was halfway run They'd wet their hats also. And many was the feather-bed That fluttered on the foam; And many was the good lord's son That never more came home. And it's long, long may the ladies sit With their fans all in their hands Before they see young Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing along Leith strand. Half ower, half ower to Aberdour, Where the seas do run so deep, 'Tis there does lie young Sir Patrick Spens, With the Scots lords at his feet.
10.
An outlandish knight came from the northlands And he's courted a lady fair He said he would take me to those northern lands And there he would marry her. 'O fetch me some of your father's gold, And some of your mother's fee, And two of the best horses from out of the stable Where there stand thirty and three.' She fetched him some of her father's gold, And some of her mother's fee, And two of the best horses from out of the stable Where there stood thirty and three. She mounted on her milkwhite steed And he on the dapple grey, They rode till they came to the northern shore Three hours before it was day. 'Light off, light off your milk white steed Tether it to yonder tree For six pretty maidens have I drowned here And the seventh will surely be thee. 'And take off, take off your silken robes, And deliver them unto me, For I do think that they are too fine To rot all in the salt sea. 'And take off, take off your fine Holland smock, And deliver it unto me, For I do think that it is too fine To rot all in the salt sea.' 'If I must take off my fine Holland smock Then turn your back on me, For it is not fitting for such a rogue A naked woman to see.' He's turned his back all on that maid And looked at the leaves so green She's taken him by the middle so small, And tumbled him into the stream. Sometimes he sank, sometimes he swam, Until he came to the side. 'Catch hold of my hand, my fair pretty maid And then I will make you my bride.' 'Lie there, lie there, you false-hearted man, Lie there instead of me, For six pretty maidens hast thou drowned here And the seventh has drowned thee.' She mounted on her lilywhite horse, She's led the dapple grey, She rode till she came to her father's hall Three hours before it was day. Now the parrot being in the window so high, Hearing the lady, he did say: 'I feared that some ruffian had led you astray, You tarried so long away.' The king being in the bedroom so high, Hearing the parrot did say, 'What ails thee, what ails thee, my pretty Polly, You're prattling so long before day?' 'Don't prittle, don't prattle, my pretty Polly, Tell no tales of me, And your cage shall be all of the glittering gold, Though now it is made of a tree.' 'It's no laughing matter,' the parrot did say, 'So loudly I call upon thee, For the cats have got into my bedroom so high And I fear they're the death of me.' 'Well turned, well turned, my pretty Polly, Well turned, well turned for me. Your cage shall be all of the glittering gold And the spokes of the best ivory.'
11.
It is whispered in the kitchen and it's whispered in the hall, - And the broom blooms bonny, and the broom blooms fair That the king's daughter goes with a child to her brother - And they never will go down to the broom any more. He has taken his sister to their father's deer park With a yew-tree bow and arrow slung across his back “O when that you do hear me give a loud cry, Shoot from your bow an arrow, and there let me lie. “And when that you do see that I am lying dead, Then dig for me a grave, put a turf at my head." And when that he did hear her give that loud cry A silver arrow from his bow he suddenly let fly Then he has dug a grave both long, wide and deep, And he's buried his own sister with her child at her feet And when he has returned to his father's own hall, There was music, there was dancing all among the ladies all “Oh Willie, oh Willie, what is it gives you such pain?” “I have lost a sheath and knife that I'll never see again." “There are ships of your father's sailing on the sea, That'll bring as good a sheath and knife unto thee." “There are ships of my father's sailing on the sea, But such a sheath and knife they will never bring to me."
12.
As I looked over the castle wall To see what I could see, There I saw my father's ship Come a-sailing home to me. "What's the matter, my daughter Jane, That you look so pale and wan, Have you had some sore sickness Or been lying with some young man?"" "Oh, I've had no sore sickness Nor lain with any young man, But I have a grief all to my heart That you bide so long at sea." Then she took off her gown of green, She's hanged it against the wall. Her apron strings they would not tie She was three quarters gone. "Is it to a noble gentleman Or to one of high degree? Or is it to one of them jolly tars That sailed in along of me?" "It is to no noble gentleman Nor to one of high degree; But it is to Tom the Barber bold Who sailed in along of thee." The king's called for his merry men, By one, by two, by three, And Tom the Barber that used to come first, The last come in was he. In came Tom the Barber bold, He was dressed all in silk. His eyes did shine like morning sun, His skin was like the milk. "Will you marry my daughter Jane? Will you take her by the hand? Will you prove a father unto that child, And be heir to all my land?" "Yes, I'll marry your daughter Jane, I'll take her by the hand. I'll prove a father unto that child, But I value not your land. "For I have gold and silver store, I've houses and I've land. If it were not for your daughter Jane, I'd never have been your man."
13.
There was a lady lived in the west and she was dressed in green And she leaned over her father's castle wall for to see the ships sail in What is wrong with you her father did say, you look so pale and wan For you must have some sore sickness or have lain with some young man Oh I have had no sore sickness but I'm in love with a young man And the only thing that breaks my heart is what keeps him away so long Is he a lord or a squire or a duke or a man of noted fame Or is he young John from the Isle of Man that ploughs the raging main? He is neither a lord, a squire or a duke or a man of noted fame But he is young John from the Isle of Man that ploughs the raging main Then call him down, the salt sea clown, and bring him here to me If he's thinking to gain my daughter's hand he must leave this country Oh father dear don't be severe or be cruel unto me If you send away young John Barlow, you will get no good of me Then the king he called in his merry, merry men and he called them by one two and three And instead of young John being the very first man, the very last one was he He entered the room young John Barlow and the clothing he wore was silk And his two blue eyes like the morning star, and his skin as white as milk I think it is no wonder, the king did say, my daughter's in love with thee For if I was a woman as I am a man, my bedmate you would be Will you wed my daughter? he said, will you take her by the hand? And you shall dine at my table and be master over all my land I will wed your daughter, he said, but she's no match for me For every pound that she counts down, I can count thirty three Now fill your glasses to the brim, drink a health to your country Drink a health to young John from the Isle of Man and to his lady Winsbally
14.
15.
Oh, waly, waly up the bank and waly, waly down the brae, And waly by the riverside where my true love and I would go. I was a lady of renown that lived all in the North country; I was a lady of high renown when Jamie Douglas courted me. And when we came to Glasgow town, it was a comely sight to see, My lord was dressed in velvet green and I myself in cramosie. And when my eldest son was born and set upon his nurse's knee, I was the happiest woman born and Jamie Douglas, he loved me. There came a man into our house and Jamie Lockhart was his name And it was told unto my lord that I did lie in bed with him. There came another to our house and he was no good friend to me; He put Jamie's shoes beneath my bed and bade my good lord come and see. And when my lord came to my room this great falsehood for to see, He turned him round all with a scowl and there he took his leave of me "Farewell, farewell, my lady fair! Farewell, farewell, once dear to me! Farewell, farewell, my lady fair! With me you never more shall be." “Come down the stairs now Jamie Douglas, come down awhile and dine with me, I'll set you on a chair of gold and serve you kindly on my knee.” “When cockleshells turn silver bells and fishes fly from tree to tree, When frost and snow turn fire to burn it's then I'll come and dine with thee.” Oh woe be unto thee, Blackwood, I vow an ill death may you die, You were the first and the foremost man that parted my good lord and I. And when my father came to know that my lord had forsaken me, He sent fifty of his brisk dragoons to fetch me home to my own country. Farewell, farewell now Jamie Douglas! Farewell, forever dear to me! Farewell, farewell now Jamie Douglas! Look to the babes I bore to thee. You think that I am like yourself and lie with each one that I see, But I do swear by Heavens high, I never loved a man but thee. Oh, waly, waly up the bank and waly, waly down the brae, And waly by the riverside where my true love and I would go. O waly, waly, love is bonny a little while when first it's new, But love grows old and waxes cold and fades away like morning dew.
16.
O the grass in the meadow, the reeds by the mere, The sad boom of the bittern is all that I hear. And the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore cry “You never shall sit by your loved ones no more.” When I was a young girl the world did seem gay, But these cruel hard times do drive comfort away. And the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore cry “You never shall dance with your sweetheart no more.” Once I gathered wild flowers in the sweet countryside, But my garlands have withered, my posies have died. And the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore cry “You never shall lie by your husband no more.” Once I went a-courting, but now my man's gone, Once I was a mother, but now I'm alone. And the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore cry “You never shall walk with your menfolk no more.” Come all you young women that's free from all care, Don't you never get married, all sorrows lies there. And the leaves in the woodland and the gulls by the shore cry “The heart that is given no man can restore.” Now the fields are all empty, the hedgerows are bare, Only wild desolation is all I find there. I'll go down to the river and I'll ease all my pain And who knows but I might see my dear ones again, Who knows but I might see my dear ones again.
17.
O the King sat in Dunfermline town, And in Dunfermline town sat he. In the King's great hall, on the King's high throne (Very much where you would expect a king to be) And that's enough information for now. Sell the horse, you can saddle the cow! Fol-de-rol-de-riddle and too-ra-loo This is the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens And tonight I intend to sing it all the way through. O the King was drinking the blood-red wine, For the colour of the wine that the King preferred was red. And the King put down his blood-red wine And the King turned to his lords and this he said - I'll tell you what he said in a minute or two. Turn your money when the moon is new! Fol-de-rol-de-riddle and too-ra-lee This is the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens And we should get finished around a quarter to three. O the King turned to his lords and he said, "Find me a mariner who can sail the sea. Not a mariner who hunts, or makes little wooden toys - Those kinds of mariner are no good to me, For it's sailing a ship that I've got in mind." Knock them dead and you can rob them blind! Fol-de-rol-de-riddle and too-ra-loo This is the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens And if you liked that bit you're going to love verse 22. "O Sir Patrick Spens is the man that you want," Said a little lord sitting at the King's right knee, By the King's high throne, in the King's great hall, In Dunfermline, as we've established previously. I hope you're keeping up with the story so far. Never trust a man with a big cigar! Fol-de-rol-de-riddle and row-tow-tow This is the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens And it should start hotting up any time now. So the King has written a letter so broad (He preferred that to a letter that was long) And he's sent it to Sir Patrick Spens Who, as you may remember, is the hero of this song And he'll be coming in after the next refrain. One man's loss is another man's gain! Fol-de-rol and rickety-tickety-tin This is the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens And if it goes well I might just do Tam Lin. O Sir Patrick Spens was walking on the strand When a messenger came with a letter from the King. "O why has the King sent this letter to me? For I'm something of a novice at the whole ship-sailing thing. Still, the orders of the King must be obeyed." Never count the profits till the bills are paid! Fol-de-rol-de-riddle and hi-de-ho This is the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens And I think we all know how this one's going to go. O Sir Patrick Spens and all his men drowned While they were doing as the King proposed. I know there's more to say - I've left a lot of bits out - But I wanted to get through this song before the bar closed. So that's all I'm going to say about Sir Patrick Spens. Never say 'whither' when you mean to say whence'! Fol-de-rol-de-riddle and roll them bones That was the ballad of Sir Patrick Spens - And if you want to hear it done properly, try Nic Jones.

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80 minutes of music including album-only bonus track La Belle Dame Sans Merci (John Keats / copland smith), as well as full lyrics, notes and artwork.

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released January 19, 2012

Phil Edwards: vocals, flute, recorder, whistles (D and G), melodica, zither, concertina, drums, ukulele

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