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Midi Files and
Song Words
(Please click on hyperlinks to listen to files
or view lyrics)
| Abdul Abulbul Amir |
The sons of the
Prophet are brave men and bold
and quite unaccustomed to fear,
But the bravest by far in the ranks of the shah,
Was Abdul Abulbul Amir.
If you wanted a man to encourage the van,
Or harass the foe from the rear,
Storm fort or redoubt, you had only to shout
for Abdul Abulbul Amir.
Now the heroes were plenty and well known to fame
in the troops that were led by the Czar,
And the bravest of these was a man by the name
of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
One day this bold Russian, he shouldered his gun
and donned his most truculent sneer,
Downtown he did go where he tred on the toe
of Abdul Abulbul Amir.
"Young man," quote Abdul,"has life grown so
dull
That you wish to end your career?
Vile infidel know, you have trod on the toe
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir.
So take your last look at the sunshine and brook
And send your regrets to the Czar
For by this I imply, you are going to die,
Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar."
Then this bold Mameluke drew his trusty skibouk,
Singing, "Allah! Il Allah! Al-lah!"
And with murderous intent he ferociously went
for Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
They parried and thrust, they side-stepped and cussed,
Of blood they spilled a great part;
The philologist blokes, who seldom crack jokes,
Say that hash was first made on the spot.
They fought all that night neath the pale yellow moon;
The din, it was heard from afar,
And huge multitudes came, so great was the fame,
of Abdul and Ivan Skavar.
As Abdul's long knife was extracting the life,
In fact he was shouting, "Huzzah!"
He felt himself struck by that wily Calmuck,
Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
The Sultan drove by in his red-breasted fly,
Expecting the victor to cheer,
But he only drew nigh to hear the last sigh,
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir.
There's a tomb rises up where the Blue Danube rolls,
And graved there in characters clear,
Is, "Stranger, when passing, oh pray for the soul
Of Abdul Abulbul Amir."
A splash in the Black Sea one dark moonless night
Caused ripples to spread wide and far,
It was made by a sack fitting close to the back,
of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
A Muscovite maiden her lone vigil keeps,
Neath the light of the cold northern star,
And the name that she murmurs in vain as she weeps,
is Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.
[Top
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| Come Back Paddy Reilly |
The Garden of
Eden has vanished they say
But I know the lie of it still
Just turn to the left at the bridge of Finea
And stop when halfway to Cootehill.
'Tis there I will find it I know sure enough
When fortune has come to my call,
Oh the grass it is green around Ballyjamesduff
And the blue sky is over it all
And tones that are tender and tones that are gruff,
Are whispering over the sea,
Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff,
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me.
My mother once told me that when I was born
The day that I first saw the light,
I looked down the street on that very first morn
And gave a great crow of delight.
Now most newborn babies appear in a huff,
And start with a sorrowful squall
But I knew I was born in Ballyjamesduff
And that's why I smiled on them all.
The baby's a man, now he's toil-worn and tough,
Still, whispers come over the sea,
Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me.
The night that we danced by the light of the moon,
Wid Phil to the fore wid his flute,
When Phil threw his lip over 'Come Again Soon,'
He's dance the foot out o' yer boot!
The day that I took long Magee by the scruff
For slanderin' Rosie Kilrain,
Then, marchin' him straight out of Ballyjamesduff,
Assisted him into a drain.
Oh, sweet are the dreams, as the dudeen I puff,
Of whisperings over the sea,
Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me.
I've loved the young women of every land,
That always came easy to me;
Just barrin' the belles of the Black-a-moor brand
And the chocolate shapes of Feegee.
But that sort of love is a moonshiny stuff,
And never will addle me brain,
For the bells will be ringin' in Ballyjamesduff
For me and me Rosie Kilrain!
And through all their glamour, their gas and their guff
A whisper comes over the sea,
Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me.
[Top
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| Are Ye Right There, Michael? |
You may talk of
Columbus's sailing
Across the Atlantical Sea
But he never tried to go railing
From Ennis as far as Kilkee
You run for the train in the morning,
The excursion train starting at eight
You're there when the clock gives the warnin'
And there for an hour you'll wait
And as you're waiting in the train,
You'll hear the guard sing this refrain-
Are ye right there, Michael, are ye right?
Do you think that we'll be there before the night?
Ye've been so long in startin',
That ye couldn't say for startin'
Still ye might now, Michael,
So ye might!
They find out where the engine's been hiding,
And it drags you to Sweet Corofin;
Says the guard, Back her down on the siding
There's the goods from Kilrush comin' in.
Perhaps it comes in two hours,
Perhaps it breaks down on the way;
If it does, says the guard, be the powers,
We're here for the rest of the day!
Spoken:
And while you sit and curse your luck
The train backs down into a truck.
Are ye right there, Michael, are ye right?
Have ye got the parcel there for Mrs. White?
Ye haven't, oh begorra,
Say it's comin' down tomorra -
And well it might now, Michael,
So it might.
At Lahinch the sea shines like a jewel,
With joy you are ready to shout,
When the stoker cries out, There's no fuel,
And the fire's taytotally out.
But hand up that bit of log there -
I'll soon have ye out of the fix;
There's fine clamp of turf in the bog there.
And the rest go a-gatherin' sticks.
Spoken:
And while you're breakin' bits of tree,
You hear some wise remarks like these -
Are ye right there, Michael? Are ye right?
Do ye think that you can get the fire to light?
Oh an hour you'll require,
For the turf it might be drier -
Well it might now, Michael,
So it might.
[Top
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| Phil The Fluther's Ball |
Have you heard
of Phil the Fluther, of the town of Ballymuck?
The times were going hard with him, in fact the man was broke.
So he just sent out a notice to his neighbours, one an all.
As to how he'd like their company that evening at a ball.
And when writin' out he was careful to suggest to them,
That if they found a hat of his convanient to the door,
The more they put in, whenever he requested them
The bether would the music be for battherin' the flute.
With the toot of the flute, and the twiddle of the fiddle-O!
Hopping in the middle, like a herrin' on the griddle-O!
Up! down, hands around, crossing to the wall-O!
Hadn't we the gaiety at Phil the Fluther's Ball.
There was Mister Denis Dogherty, who kep' the runnin' dog;
There was little crooked Paddy, from the Tiraloughett bog;
There was boys from every Barony, and girls from ev'ry "art"
And the beautiful Miss Bradys, in a private ass an' cart,
And along with them came bouncing Mrs. Cafferty,
Little Micky Mulligan was also to the fore,
Rose, Suzanne, and Margaret O'Rafferty,
The flower of Ardmagullion, and the pride of Pethravore.
With the toot of the flute, and the twiddle of the fiddle-O!
Hopping in the middle, like a herrin' on the griddle-O!
Up! down, hands around, crossing to the wall-O!
Hadn't we the gaiety at Phil the Fluther's Ball.
First, little Micky Mulligan got up to show them how,
And then the Widda' Cafferty steps out and makes her bow,
I could dance you off your legs, sez she, as sure as you are
born,
If ye'll only make the piper play, "The hare was in the
corn."
So Phil plays up to the best of his ability,
The lady and the gentleman begin to do their share;
Faith, then Mick it's you that has agility,
Begorra Mrs. Cafferty, yer leppin' like a hare!
With the toot of the flute, and the twiddle of the fiddle-O!
Hopping in the middle, like a herrin' on the griddle-O!
Up! down, hands around, crossing to the wall-O!
Hadn't we the gaiety at Phil the Fluther's Ball.
Then Phil the Fluther tipped a wink to little Crooked Pat,
"I think it's nearly time," sez he, "for passin'
round the hat."
So Paddy pass'd the caubeen round, and looking mighty cute.
Sez, "Ye've got to pay the piper when he toothers on
the flute."
Then all joined in wid the greatest joviality,
Covering the buckle, and the shuffle, and the cut;
Jigs were danced, of the very finest quality,
But the Widda' bet the company at "handling the fut."
With the toot of the flute, and the twiddle of the fiddle-O!
Hopping in the middle, like a herrin' on the griddle-O!
Up! down, hands around, crossing to the wall-O!
Hadn't we the gaiety at Phil the Fluther's Ball.
[Top
of page] |
| Eileen Oge |
Eileen Oge, an'
that the darlin's name is
Through the barony her features they were famous
If we loved her who is there to blame us
For wasn't she the Pride of Petravore.
But her beauty made us all so shy
Not a man could look her in the eye
Boys! O boys! Sure that's the reason why
We're in mournin' for the Pride of Petravore
Eileen Oge! Me heart is growin' grey
Ever since the day you wandered far away
Eileen Oge! There's good fish in the say,
But there's no one like the Pride of Petravore.
Friday at the Fair of Ballintubber,
Eileen met McGrath, the cattle jobber,
I'd like to set me mark upon the robber,
For he stole away the Pride of Petravore.
He never seem'd to see the girl at all,
Even when she ogle'd him underneath her shawl,
Lookin' big and masterful, when she was looking small,
Most provokin' for the Pride of Petravore.
Eileen Oge! Me heart is growin' grey
Ever since the day you wandered far away
Eileen Oge! There's good fish in the say,
But there's no one like the Pride of Petravore.
So it went as it was in the beginning,
Eileen Oge was bent upon the winning,
Big McGrath contentedly was grinning,
Being courted by the Pride of Petravore.
Sez he, 'I know a girl that could knock you into fits,'
At that Eileen nearly lost her wits.
The upshot of the ruction was that now the robber sits,
With his arm around the Pride of Petravore.
Eileen Oge! Me heart is growin' grey
Ever since the day you wandered far away
Eileen Oge! There's good fish in the say,
But there's no one like the Pride of Petravore.
Boys, oh boys! with fate 'tis hard to grapple,
Of my eye 'tis Eileen was the apple.
And now to see her walkin' to the chapel
Wid the hardest featured man in Petravore.
And now, me boys, this is all I have to say,
When you do your courtin' make no display,
If you want them to run after you just walk the other way,
For they're mostly like the Pride of Petravore.
Eileen Oge! Me heart is growin' grey
Ever since the day you wandered far away
Eileen Oge! There's good fish in the say,
But there's no one like the Pride of Petravore.
[Top
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| The Mountains of Mourne |
Oh Mary this London's
a wonderful sight
With people here workin' by day and by night
They don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat
But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street
At least when I asked them that's what I was told
So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold
But for all that I found there I might as well be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed
Well if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball
They don't wear no top to their dresses at all
Oh I've seen them meself and you could not in truth
Say that if they were bound for a ball or a bath
Don't be startin' them fashions, now Mary McCree
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
There's beautiful girls here, oh never you mind
With beautiful shapes nature never designed
And lovely complexions all roses and cream
But let me remark with regard to the same
That if that those roses you venture to sip
The colors might all come away on your lip
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me
In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
[Top
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We thank contemplator.com
for permission
to use information from their website |
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