The Folk Choir's Chorus Songs

Soul Cake

Hey ho, nobody home, meat nor drink nor money have I none, Still I will be very merry Hey ho, nobody home. Soul, soul, soul cake, please good missus a soul cake An apple, a pear, a plum, a cherry, Any good thing to make us all merry One for Peter, two for Paul, three for Him who made us all

God bless the master of this house and the mistress also  And all the little children that 'round your table grow  The cattle in your stable, the dog at your front door  And all that dwell within your gates we wish you ten times more  The streets are very dirty, my shoes are very thin  I have a little pocket to put a penny in  If you haven't got a penny a ha'penny will do  If you haven't got a ha'penny then God bless you  Go down into the cellar and see what you can find  If the barrels are not empty we hope you will be kind  We hope you will be kind with your apples and your pears  For we come no more a souling 'til this time next year

Bully in the Alley
traditional halyard shanty, from Graeme Knights and Jim Mageean's Whitby@home shanty session.

Bully in the Alley          (a bully good ship - jolly)

Help me Bob, I’m bully in the alley
d s, d r m-m m s m-r-d
Way-hey, bully in the alley
f-r m-d r-r r m r-t,-s
Help me Bob, I’m bully in the alley
Bully down in Shinbone Al.
f-f m r d r-d d

Oh Sally is a girl down in our alley (way-hey bully in the alley)
Sally is a girl of Shinbone Alley (bully down in Shinbone Al)

I left my gal to go out sailing,
left my Sal to go out whaling.

Oh Sally is a girl that I love dearly
Sally is a girl that I married nearly

When I get-to-Saint Lou, I’m gonna tie-up-at-a qu-a-ay
Says there’s a place there, just for me

For seven long years I’ve courted Sally
All she did was dilly dally
Double chorus

Wild Goose Shanty

traditional halyard shanty, as sung by Nicole Murray 

Did you ever see a wild goose
Sailing o'er the ocean?
Ranzo, Ranzo, Way-hey-ay!
They're just like them pretty girls
When they get the notion
Ranzo, Ranzo, Way-hey-ay!

While I was out walking
One morning by the river
I saw a young girl walkin'
With her topsails all a-quiver.

I said, "Pretty fair maid,
And how are you this morning?"
She said, "None the better
For the seeing of you."

Did you ever see a wild goose
Sailin' o'er the ocean?
Ranzo, Ranzo, Way-hey-ay!
They're just like them pretty girls
When they get the notion
Ranzo, Ranzo, Way-hey-ay!

Shallow Brown

traditional shanty, as sung by Nicole Murray 

Oh I'm going to leave her so, doh mi re doh re re

Shallow, oh shallow brown re re mi re doh la,

Oh I'm going to leave her mi mi mi re doh la, so,

Shallow, oh shallow brown la, doh so, la, doh doh

Ship on board of a whaler

Bound away for St Georgia

Love thee well, Juliana

Master's going to sell me

Going to sell me for the dollar

Great big Yankee dollar

Oh I'm going to leave her

One More Day

traditional shanty, as sung by Nicole Murray 

Can’t you hear the girls a calling, Johnny, One more day
Can’t you hear the girls a calling, One more day

Only one more day, Johnny, One more day
Oh, rock and roll me over, One more day

 

Don't you hear the old man growlin', Johnny, One more day
Don't you hear the mate a howlin', One more day

No more gales or heavy weather, Johnny, One more day
Only one more day together, One more day

Oh, we're homeward bound tomorrow, Johnny, One more day
And we'll leave her without sorrow, One more day

Then pull out your long tailed blue, Johnny, One more day
For this night is nearly through (chanting)

Rolling Home

John Tams, sung by Nicole Murray

Round goes the wheel of fortune
Don't be afraid to ride
There's a land of milk and honey
Waits on the other side
There'll be peace and there'll be plenty
You'll never need to roam
When we go rolling home, when we go rolling home.

Rolling home, when we go rolling home
When we go rolling, rolling, when we go rolling home

The gentry in their fine array
Do prosper night and morn
While we unto the fields must go
To plough and sow their corn
The rich may steal the power
But the glory's ours alone
When we go rolling home (etc)

The frost is on the hedgerow
The icy winds do blow
While we poor weary labourers
Strive through the driving snow
Our dreams fly up to glory
Up where the lark has flown
When we go rolling home (etc)

The summer of resentment
The winter of despair
The journey to contentment
Is set with trap and snare
Stand to and stand together
Your labour's yours alone
When we go rolling home (etc)

So pass the bottle round
And let the toast go free
Here's a health to every labourer
Wherever they may be
Fair wages now and ever
Let's reap what we have sown
When we go rolling home (etc)

Listen to Tams singing it.

And here is Roy Bailey.

Oak and Ash and Thorn (A Tree Song)

Rudyard Kipling, music by Peter Bellamy, sung by Nicole Murray and Rebecca Wright

Of all the trees that grow so fair, old England to adorn,
Greater are none beneath the Sun, than Oak and Ash and Thorn.

Chorus
Sing Oak and Ash and Thorn, good Sirs
(All on a Midsummer's morn)!
Surely we sing of no little thing,
In Oak and Ash and Thorn!

Oak of the Clay lived many a day, E'er ever Aeneas began;
Ash of the Loam was a lady at home, when Brut was an outlaw man;
And Thorn of the Down saw New Troy Town (From which was London born);
Witness hereby the ancientry of Oak and Ash and Thorn!

Yew that is old in churchyard mould, he breedeth a mighty bow;
Alder for shoes do wise men choose, and beech for cups also.
But when ye have killed, and your bowl is spilled, and your shoes are clean outworn,
Back ye must speed for all that ye need, to Oak and Ash and Thorn!

Ellum she hateth mankind, and waiteth till every gust be laid,
To drop a limb on the head of him that anyway trusts her shade:
But whether a lad be sober or sad, or mellow with ale from the horn,
He'll take no wrong when he lieth along 'neath Oak and Ash and Thorn!

Oh, do not tell the Priest of our plight, or he would call it a sin;
But—we have been out in the woods all night, a-conjuring Summer in!
And we bring you news by word of mouth— Good news for cattle and corn—
Now is the Sun come up from the South, by Oak and Ash and Thorn!

some very interesting notes about this song, from the Kipling Society, can be found here.

Hard Times  

Stephen Foster, written in 1854, sung by Nicole Murray

Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears,
While we all sup sorrow with the poor;
There's a song that will linger forever in our ears;
Oh! Hard times come again no more.

Chorus:

'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary,
Hard Times, hard times, come again no more
Many days you have lingered around my cabin door;
Oh! Hard times come again no more.

While we seek mirth and beauty and music light and gay,
There are frail forms fainting at the door;
Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say
Oh! Hard times come again no more.

Chorus

There's a pale drooping maiden who toils her life away,
With a worn heart whose better days are o'er:
Though her voice would be merry, 'tis sighing all the day,
Oh! Hard times come again no more.

Chorus

'Tis a sigh that is wafted across the troubled wave,
'Tis a wail that is heard upon the shore
'Tis a dirge that is murmured around the lowly grave
Oh! Hard times come again no more. 

Chorus

The Sweetest Gift

by J.B. Coats, (made famous by Linda Ronstadt & Emmylou Harris), as sung by Vicki and Ray Epstein

One day a mother went to a prison

To see an erring but precious son

She told the warden how much she loved him

It did not matter what he had done.

CHORUS:

She did not bring,             a parole or pardon

                    (bring to him)                 (pardon plea)

She brought no silver,                 no pomp or style

                        (brought no gold)                    (none to see)

It was a halo,             sent down from heaven

            (halo bright)                                 (heaven's light)

The sweetest gift, a mother's smile.

Her boy had wandered far from the fireside

Though she had pleaded with him each night

But not a word, did she ever utter
Her heart was flowing, her smile was bright

CHORUS

She left a smile you can remember

She's gone to heaven from heartaches free

Those walls around you could never change her

You were her baby and e'er will be.

CHORUS x 2

(Repeat last line to finish)

Fiddler's Green
by John Connolly, as sung by Rod Murphy.

As I walked by the dockside one evening so fair,
To view the salt waters and take the sea air
I heard an old fisherman singing his song,
Saying take me away boys me time is not long.

Chorus:

Wrap me up in me oilskins and jumpers
No more round the docks I'll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates I'm taking a trip mates
And I'll see you some day in Fiddler's Green

Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
Where fishermen go if they don't go to hell
Where the skies are all clear and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away

Chorus

Where the sky's always clear, and there's never a gale
Where the fish jump on board with a swish of their tails
Where you lie at your leisure, there's no work to do
And the Skipper's below, making tea for the crew

Chorus

When you land on the dock and the long trip is through
There's pubs and there's clubs and there's lassies there too
Where the girls are all pretty and the beer it is free
And there's bottles of rum hanging from every tree

Chorus

No I don't want a harp, nor a halo, not me,
Just give me a breeze and the dark rollin' sea,
And I'll play me old squeeze-box as we sail along
With the wind in the riggin', to sing me a song

Chorus

The Rattling Bog
traditional, as sung by Amorina Fitzgerald-Hood, Vicki Epstein and Lisa Edwards from Corvus

CHORUS

Ho ro the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o
Ho ro the rattlin' bog
The bog down in the valley-o

And in this bog there was a hole
A rare hole, a rattlin' hole
The hole in the bog
And the bog down in the valley-o

CHORUS

And in this hole there was a tree

A rare tree, a rattling tree

The tree in the hole

And the hole in the bog

And the bog down in the valley-o

CHORUS

And on this tree there was a branch
A rare branch, a rattlin' branch
The branch on the tree / in the hole

And the hole in the bog
And the bog down in the valley-o

CHORUS

And on this branch there was a twig
A rare twig, a rattlin' twig
The twig on the branch/ on the tree/ in the hole/

And the hole in the bog
And the bog down in the valley-o

CHORUS

And on this twig there was a nest
A rare nest, a rattlin' nest
The nest on the twig/ on the branch/ on the tree/ in the hole/ in the bog
And the bog down in the valley-o

CHORUS

And on this nest there was an egg
A rare egg, a rattlin' egg
The egg on the nest /on the twig/ on the branch/ on the tree/ in the hole/ in the bog
And the bog down in the valley-o

CHORUS

And in this egg there was a chick
A rare chick, a rattlin' chick
The chick in the egg /on the nest /on the twig/ on the branch/ on the tree/ in the hole/ in the bog
And the bog down in the valley-o

CHORUS

And on this chick there was a feather
A rare feather, a rattlin' feather
The feather on the chick /in the egg /on the nest /on the twig/ on the branch/ on the tree/ in the hole/ in the bog
And the bog down in the valley-o

CHORUS

And on this feather there was a flea (slow)
A rare flea, a rattlin' flea (pause)
The flea on the feather/ on the chick /in the egg /on the nest /on the twig/ on the branch/ on the tree/ in the hole/ in the bog
And the bog down in the valley-o

CHORUS x 2 to finish

For an extra four verses at the end (optional!!)

- There was some legs

- There was some shoes

- There was some heels

- There was some nails

Landlord Fill The Flowing Bowl

Traditional English, as sung by Nicole Murray

Landlord fill the flowing bowl,

Until it doth run over

Come Landlord fill the flowing bowl,

Until it doth run over

For tonight we'll merry, merry be.

Tomorrow we'll be sober

Here's to the man who drinks small beer

And goes to bed quite sober,

Fade's as the leaves do fade

And drop off in October

Here's to the man who drinks strong ale

And goes to bed quite mellow,

Lives as he ought to live

And dies a jolly good fellow-

Here's to the girl who steals a kiss,

And runs to tell her mother

She's a very foolish thing,

She'll never get another.

Here's to the girl who steals a kiss,

And runs back for another

She's a boon to all mankind

And soon she'll be a mother-

If I had another brick

I'd build by chimney higher

It would stop my neighbour's cat,

From pissing on my fire

Come, into the garden Maude

And don't be so particular

If the grass is cold and damp,

We'll do it perpendicular.

Final Chorus

Landlord fill the flowing bowl,

Until it doth run over

Come Landlord fill the flowing bowl,

Until it doth run over

For tonight we'll merry, merry be.

Tomorrow we're Hungover

Bella Ciao

Partisan version, as sung by John McCollow

Alla mattina mi son svegliato, o bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao! Alla mattina mi son svegliato e ho trovato l'invasor. O partigiano portami via, o bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao o partigiano portami via che mi sento di morir. E se io muoio da partigiano, o bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao, e se io muoio da partigiano tu mi devi seppellir. E Seppellire lassù in montagna, o bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao, E seppellire lassù in montagna sotto l'ombra di un bel fior. Tu che le genti che passeranno, o bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao, Tu che le genti che passeranno mi diranno «che bel fior.» E questo è il fiore del partigiano, o bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao ciao ciao, E questo è il fiore del partigiano morto per la libertà

Haul Away Joe

Traditional shanty, as sung by Rod Murphy

When I was just a little boy, me father always told me [To me]

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe

That if I did not kiss the girls, my lips would all grow mouldy, [To me]

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe.

Chorus

Way, Hey! haul away, we'll haul away together, [To me]

Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe

Way, Hey! haul away, we're bound for better weather, [To me]

Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.

When first I sailed around the world I never knew what I was missing [To me]

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe

‘til I met a Liverpool girl and she taught me the kissing [To me]

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe.

First I met a Yankee girl and she was fat and lazy, [To me]

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe

And then I met an Irish girl, she damn near drove me crazy, [To me]

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe.

Then I met an English girl, she called me her dear honey [To me]

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe

She kissed me neat, she kissed me sweet, until she’d spent my money [To me]

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe.

So listen while I sing to you about me darlin' Nancy, [To me]

Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe

She's copper-bottomed, clipper-built, she's just me style an' fancy, [To me]

Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe.

King Louis was the King of France before the revolution,

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe

And then he got his head cut off, it spoiled his constitution,

Way haul away, we'll haul away Joe.

Barrett's Privateers

by Stan Rogers, as sung by Lisa Edwards

O the year was Seventeen Seventy-Eight
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
A letter of marque came from the king
To the scummiest vessel I’ve ever seen

God damn them all
I was told we’d cruise the seas for American gold
We’d fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I’m a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett’s Privateers

O Elcid Barrett cried the town
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
For twenty brave men all fishermen who
Would make for him the Antelope’s crew

The Antelope sloop was a sickening site
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
She’d list to the port and her sails in rags
And the cook in the scuppers with the staggers and jags

On the King’s birthday we put to sea
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Ninety-one days to Montego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way

On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
When a great big Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight

The Yankee lay low down with gold
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
She was broad and fat and loose in stays
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days

Then at length she stood two cables away
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Our cracked four-pounders made awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in

The Antelope shook and pitched on her side
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs
And the main truck carried off both me legs

Now here I lay in my twenty-third year
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
It’s been six years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday

Learn more about the mighty Stan Rogers here.