Irish Aires News

Here are the lyrics to most of tonight’s music on Irish Aires. We are featuring music

from two new albums (“Exiles Return” by Karan Casey & John Doyle AND “Natural

Angle” by Grada). Some of these songs might not be familiar, but I think you

will enjoy them.

Join us tonight at 6PM (Central Daylight Saving Time) on KPFT-FM (90.1FM) in Houston

OR listen to us stream live on the web (www.kpft.org ) OR you can go there after the

fact & download the show from our archives OR if none of that works, I'll come over

to your house & play the music!

Jay

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Playlist

Come In - Irish Rovers - Unicorn Song - Geffen Records

The False Lady - Karan Casey & John Doyle - Exiles Return - Compass Records

Louis Collins - Grada - Natural Angle - Compass Records

*Sally Grier - Karan Casey & John Doyle - Exiles Return - Compass Records

Pretty Polly - Grada - Natural Angle - Compass Records

John Riley (of the San Patricios) - Grada - Natural Angle - Compass Records

Break

Henry Joy McCracken/The Rising Of The Moon/Roddy McCorley - Derek Warfield - Liberte '98 - Shanachie

Current Events / Irish Stew Cook off - Dotsy's - Grada - Natural Angle - Compass Records

Current Events / Irish Stew Cook off - Salthill Bugalu - Grada - Natural Angle - Compass Records

The Butcher Boy - Grada - Natural Angle - Compass Records

Madam I'm A Darling - Karan Casey & John Doyle - Exiles Return - Compass Records

*The Little Drummer Girl - Karan Casey & John Doyle - Exiles Return - Compass Records

The Shipyard Slips - Karan Casey & John Doyle - Exiles Return - Compass Records

Break

*Bottom Of The Hill - Grada - Natural Angle - Compass Records

Promos

* Could not find lyrics on internet

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The False Lady

In common with other American examples, this New England version of "Young

Hunting" has lost its ending, in which the heroine is burned at the stake for her

transgressions. Jealousy is often a good enough motive for murder, but death is still a

rather high price to pay for a little white lie.

"Abide, abide, true love," she said,

"Beg and stay all night,

You shall have pleasure in my room

With a coal and a candle light, light,

With a coal and a candle light."

"I won't abide, you false lady,

And beg and stay all night,

For I have a far better love to enjoy,

When I go home, than you."

As he stooped over saddle bow

To kiss her lips so sweet,

And with a penknife in her hand,

She wounded him full deep.

"Why woundest me, you false lady,

Why woundeet me so sore?

There's not a doctor in all Scotland

Can heal my mortal wound."

She awoke her maids in the morning,

Just at the break of day,

Saying, "There's a dead man in my bed-chamber,

I wish he was away."

Some took him by the lily-white hands,

And others by the feet,

They threw him into a very deep well,

Full fifty fathoms deep.

"Lie there, lie there, you false young man,

Lie there, lie there alone,

And let the one that you love best

Think you long a-coming home."

Oh, then up spoke a pretty little bird,

Sitting in a tree:

"An ill death may you die, lady,

For he had no love but thee."

++++++++++++++

Louis Collins

Mrs. Collins weeped, Mrs. Collins moaned,

to see her son Louis leavin' home

The angels laid him away

The angels laid him away,

they laid him six feet under the clay

The angels laid him away

Mrs. Collins weeped, Mrs. Collins moaned,

to see her son Louis leavin' home

The angels laid him away

Oh, Bob shot once and Louis shot too,

shot poor Collins, shot him through and through

The angels laid him away

Oh, kind friends, oh, ain't it hard?,

to see poor Louis in a new graveyard

The angels laid him away

The angels laid him away,

they laid him six feet under the clay

The angels laid him away

Oh, when they heard that Louis was dead

all the people they dressed in red

The angels laid him away

The angels laid him away,

they laid him six feet under the clay

The angels laid him away

Mrs. Collins weeped, Mrs. Collins moaned,

to see her son Louis leavin' home

The angels laid him away

The angels laid him away,

they laid him six feet under the clay

The angels laid him away

++++++++++++

Polly, Pretty Polly

Polly, pretty Polly, would you think me unkind

Polly, pretty Polly, would you think me unkind

if I sat down beside you and told you my mind

My mind is to marry and never to part

My mind is to marry and never to part,

The first time I saw you it wounded my heart

Polly, pretty Polly, come and go along with me

Polly, pretty Polly, come and go along with me

Before we get married some pleasure to seek

He led her over mountains and valleys so deep

He led her over mountains and valleys so deep

Polly misjudged him and she began to weep

Sayin' "Willie, Oh Willie, I'm afraid of your ways"

Willie, Oh Willie, I'm afraid of your ways"

The way you've been ramblin' you'd lead me astray

He said "Polly, pretty Polly, your guess is about right.

Polly, pretty Polly, your guess is about right,

I dug on your grave the best part of last night

She followed him a little farther and what did she find

She followed him a little farther and what did she find

A new dug grave and a spade lyin' by

She knelt down before him and begged for her life

She knelt down before him and begged for her life

Sayin' "Let me be a single girl if I can't be your wife"

"Polly, pretty polly that never could be.

Polly, pretty polly that never could be,

Your fast reputation's been trouble to me

He stabbed her through the heart and her heart's blood did flow

He stabbed her through the heart and her heart's blood did flow

And into the grave Pretty Polly did go.

He went to the jailhouse and what did he say

He went to the jailhouse and what did he say

I've killed pretty Polly and I'm tryin' to get away

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John Riley

John Riley came form Galway town in the years of the Irish hunger

And he sailed away to America when the country was much younger

The place was strange and work was scarce and all he knew was farming

So he followed his other Irish friends to a job in the US Army

Adventure calls and some men run, and this is their sad story

Some get drunk on demon rum and some get drunk on glory

They marched down Texas way to the banks of the Rio Grande

They built a fort on the banks above to taunt old Santa Anna

They were treated bad, paid worse, and then the fighting started

The more they fought the less they thought of the damned old US Army

Adventure calls and some men run, and this is their sad story

Some get drunk on demon rum and some get drunk on glory

When the church bells rang on Sunday morn it set his soul a shiver

He saw the Senoritas washing their hair on the far side of the river

John Riley and two hundred more Irish mercenaries

Cast their lot, right or not, south of the Rio Grande

Adventure calls and some men run, and this is their sad story

Some get drunk on demon rum and some get drunk on glory

They fought bravely under the flag of the San Patricios

Till the Yankees soldiers beat them down at the battle of Churubusco

Then fifteen men were whipped like mules

And on the cheeks were hot iron branded

Made to dig the graves of fifty more, who a hanging fate had handed

Adventure calls and some men run, and this is their sad story

Some get drunk on demon rum and some get drunk on glory

John Riley stands and drinks alone at a bar in Vera Cruz

He wonders if it matters much if you win or if you lose

I'm a man who can't go home , a wanderer, says he

A victim of some wanderlust and divided loyalty

Adventure calls and some men run, and this is their sad story

Some get drunk on demon rum and some get drunk on glory

+++++++

Henry Joy McCracken

An Ulster man I am proud to be

From the Antrim glens I come

And though I've laboured by the sea

I have followed fife and drum

I have heard the martial tramp of men

I've seen them fight and die

Ah! Lads it's well I remember when

I followed Henry Joy

I dragged my boat in from the shore

And I hid my sails away

I hung my nets upon a tree

And I scanned the moonlit bay

The boys were out, the red coats too

I kissed my love good-bye

And in the shade of the greenwood glade

I followed Henry Joy

It was for Ireland's cause we fought

For home and sire, we bled

'Though our numbers were few, our hearts were true

And five to one lay dead

And many a lassie mourned her lad

And mother mourned her boy

For youth was strong in the daring throng

That followed Henry Joy

In Belfast town, they built a tree

And the redcoats mustered there

I saw him come as the beat of a drum

Rolled out in the barrack square

He kissed his sister, went aloft

And waved a last good-bye

My God he died, I turned and I cried

They have murdered Henry Joy

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The Rising of the Moon

words by J.K. Casey, music Turlough O'Carolan

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell tell me why you hurry so

Husha buachaill hush and listen and his cheeks were all a glow

I bare orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon

For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon

For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be

At the old spot by the river quite well known to you and me

One more word for signal token whistle out the marchin' tune

With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon

With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night

Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed warning light

Murmurs rang along the valleys to the banshees lonely croon

And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon

And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen

High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green

Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune

And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon

'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon

And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon

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Roddy McCorley

O see the fleet-foot host of men, who march with faces drawn,

From farmstead and from fishers' cot, along the banks of Ban;

They come with vengeance in their eyes. Too late! Too late are

they,

For young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome

today.

Oh Ireland, Mother Ireland, you love them still the best

The fearless brave who fighting fall upon your hapless breast,

But never a one of all your dead more bravely fell in fray,

Than he who marches to his fate on the bridge of Toome today.

Up the narrow street he stepped, so smiling, proud and young.

About the hemp-rope on his neck, the golden ringlets clung;

There's ne'er a tear in his blue eyes, fearless and brave are

they,

As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome

today.

When last this narrow street he trod, his shining pike in hand

Behind him marched, in grim array, a earnest stalwart band.

To Antrim town! To Antrim town, he led them to the fray,

But young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

The grey coat and its sash of green were brave and stainless then,

A banner flashed beneath the sun over the marching men;

The coat hath many a rent this noon, the sash is torn away,

And Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

Oh, how his pike flashed in the sun! Then found a foeman's heart,

Through furious fight, and heavy odds he bore a true man's part

And many a red-coat bit the dust before his keen pike-play,

But Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

There's never a one of all your dead more bravely died in fray

Than he who marches to his fate in Toomebridge town today;

True to the last! True to the last, he treads the upwards way,

And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

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The Butcher Boy

In Dublin town where I did dwell

a butcher boy I loved so well

he courted me my life away

and now with me he will not stay

I wish I wish but I wish in vain

I wish I was a maid again

but a maid again I ne'er can be

till apples grow on an ivy tree

She went upstairs to go to bed

and calling to her mother said

bring me a chair till I sit down

and a pen and ink till I write down

I wish I wish but I wish in vain

I wish I was a maid again

but a maid again I ne'er can be

till apples grow on an ivy tree

He went upstairs and the door he broke

and found her hanging from her rope

he took his knife and cut her down

and in her pocket these words he found:

"Oh, make my grave large, wide and deep

put a marble stone at my head and feet

and in the middle a turtle dove so the world may know

i died of love".

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Madam I’m a Darling

As I came down to Dublin City

In the dark hour late at night

Who should I meet but a fair young maiden

Washing her clothes by the broad moon light

Madam I'm a darling a-di-ro-didero

Madam I'm a darling a-di-ro-dee

First she washed them then she squeezed them

Then she hung them up to dry

Then she folded up her arms

Saying what a nice young girl am I

Going to the well for a pail of water

Bringing it home for to make the tea

She fell over I fell under

All the game was above the knee

Madam I will tie your garter

I'll tie it above the knee

If you like I'll tie it up farther

Madam I'm a darling a di-ro-dee

Madam you have gold and silver

Madam, you have tracks of land

Madam you ships on the ocean

All you need is a nice young man

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SHIPYARD SLIPS

(David Wilde)

Chorus:

And I served me time with the iron men

And I've known good times and work a-plenty

But there's no work now in these troubled times

And the shipyard slips they're lying empty

From Belfast town I'm on me way

On a ship that was built for the cruellest(?) trade

I leave me friends and the land where I was born

And I won't come back till me fortune is made

Farewell me father, my mother fair

Old age has laid its hand all on you

You loved me well and you never fail

It's leaving your side my heart will rue

I promised to write when I settled down

To ease your mind, God I know ye'll worry

Think of the times when I return

But don't count the days and time it will hurry

I'll remember the mountains, the fresh north air

I'll remember the girls with their friendly stare

I will think of the city and the friends that I have there

And I hope me love she will send me a smile

I'm going away to look for work

But I live for the day of my returning

To a job at home and peace of mind

For the Belfast people I'll always be yearning

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