1. |
The Old Songs’ Home
05:54
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On a lonely street at twilight
On my way home from the store
I passed a run-down mansion
I had never seen before
The walls were cracked and peeling
With ivy overgrown
And a sign upon the threshhold
Said, “The Old Songs’ Home.”
Well, sometimes curiosity
Is not to be denied
I walked up to the open door
And took a peek inside
Soft echoes of a thousand songs
At once caressed my ear
But somehow I could hear each one
Complete and crystal clear.
In the Old Songs’ Home
The old songs live together
In the Old Songs’ Home
When the world has passed them by
They come here when their last note’s sung
Unnoticed and unknown
They echo here forever
In the Old Songs’ Home.
I heard shanties that helped raise the sails
On a thousand clipper ships
And hits from Tin Pan Alley
Once on everybody’s lips
I heard songs the cowboys sang their herds
Where the buffalo used to roam
But no coyotes answered
In the Old Songs’ Home.
I heard songs once sung in factory towns
In logging camps and mines
And songs that striking workers sang
While walking picket lines
I heard songs that played the Palace
And the New York Hippodrome
Each night they bring the house down
In the Old Songs’ Home.
I heard Young Monroe swap stories
With The Boy That Wore the Blue
While Phil the Fluter danced a jig
With Johnny Macadoo
I heard She-e-rry sing doo wop
With Mr. Earl and Honeycomb
They still meet on the corner
In the Old Songs’ Home.
Well, every old song has a dream
That glimmers now and then
Of living in the world once more
And being sung again
My friends, if you love singing—
Low, high, or monotone—
There’s an old song waiting for you
In the Old Songs’ Home.
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2. |
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Oh, we’re sitting by the wayside, Jim, where we sat long years before
When Murphy kept the tavern and when Patsy kept the store
When the whisky flown in splendour, Jim, like water from the brook
And you and I together our daily bitters took.
Oh, the times they now are changing, Jim, and men are changing too
Some of them are trying for to put rum sellers through
But the stuff they call cool water is no good for you and I
We'll haul the cork with pleasure and we'll drink the old jug dry.
Oh, they say that in our old glasses, Jim, ten thousand graves are dug
Snakes and serpents of all kind are seen in our old jug
But let them say whate’er they may about both you and I
We'll haul the cork with pleasure and we'll drink the old jug dry.
Oh, now my song is ended and I hope there is no offence
And together we'll sit down here, Jim, all by the old rail fence
Where the moon shone down in splendour, Jim, upon both you and I
And the little stars did twinkle as we drank the old jug dry.
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3. |
She's Chocolate Cake
04:01
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They met in a diner at Fifth and Berliner
She was waiting on tables when he walked in the door
As he ordered a rare steak and strawberry shortcake
Both knew that the other was their sweet paramour.
CHORUS
He’s whisky, she’s soda, he’s Luke and she’s Yoda
He’s a birchbark canoe, she’s a clear mountain lake
He’s a hand, she’s a glove, two people in love
He’s a tall glass of milk and she’s chocolate cake.
Their friends were delighted to see them united
It was clear what an excellent couple they’d make
And everyone wore a smile as they strode down the aisle
They looked just like the figures on their wedding cake.
Well, the babies came quickly, their little feet tickly
The days filled with diapers and dishes and dolls
She quit her job waiting tables, he installed TV cables
And on Sunday they had pancakes for brunch at the mall.
There’s no more to tell you, they’re all doing well, you
Should drop in and see them if you ever pass by
Have some coffee and teacake, always fresh brewed and just baked
You can tell them you saw me, and say I say hi.
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4. |
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Out along the harbour reach
Boats stand dried up on the beach
Ghost-like in the early dawn
Empty, now the fish are gone.
What will become of people now?
Try to build a life somehow
Hard, hard times are back again
No more fish, no fishermen.
No more shoppers in the stores
Since the fish plant closed its doors
Men who walked a trawler’s decks
Now line up for welfare cheques.
There’s big “For Sale” signs everywhere
Pockets empty, cupboards bare
See it on the news at ten—
No more fish, no fishermen.
Once from Ship Cove to Cape Race
Port aux Basques to Harbour Grace
Newfoundlanders fished for cod
Owing merchants, trusting God.
They filled their dories twice a day
They fished their poor sweet lives away
They could not imagine then
No more fish, no fishermen.
Back before the Second War
We could catch our fish inshore
Boats were small and gear was rough
We caught fish, but left enough.
And now there’s no more fish because
The trawler fleets took all there was
We could see it coming then—
No more fish, no fishermen.
Farewell now to stage and flake
Get out for the children’s sake
Leave all friends and kin behind
Take whatever job you find.
There’s some that say things aren’t so black
They say the fish will all come back
Who’ll be here to catch them then?
No more fish, no fishermen.
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5. |
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“Sweetheart, it's time I bid you goodbye,” murmured a youth one day
“Off to a new land my fortune to try, ready to sail away.”
“Must we be parted?” this maid softly cried, “I cannot let you go”
“Dear, I must leave you,” he gently replied, “just for a while, you know.”"
Far, far away in Australia, soon a sad fate proved kind
I am patiently waiting for the girl I left behind
If in success or in failure, I will always be true
Toiling all day in a land far away, building a home for two.
“Sweetheart, this parting must not be fore long, here there is no work for me
While over there they are willing and strong, plenty of work there be
Why should I waste the best years of my life? Let me my fortune try!
Think of me toiling for money and wife—old Ireland, I'll say goodbye.”"
Far, far away in Australia, soon a sad fate proved kind
I am patiently waiting for the girl I left behind
If in success or in failure, I will always be true
Toiling all day in a land far away, building a home for two.
Daily she goes to the old garden gate as the sun sinks to rest
Hoping there a message she'll find to charm her aching breast
Dreaming of one who is far, far away, toiling the whole day through
Till a sweet message came to her one day, proving his words were true.
Far, far away in Australia, soon a sad fate proved kind
I am patiently waiting for the girl I left behind
If in success or in failure, I will always be true
Toiling all day in a land far away, building a home for two.
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6. |
Having a Drink with Jane
03:50
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When my day’s work is done and it hasn’t been fun
And I need someone cool, calm, and sane
I know what I’m prime for, I know that it’s time for
Having a drink with Jane
When what’s pissing me off is the gang at the office
And work is befogging my brain
The thing that I pray for the end of the day for
Is having a drink with Jane.
Some crave their tête à tête’s vodka-“tomaytah”
Juice with tabasco and lime
It doesn’t much matter, as long as the chatter
Is with the right person at the right place and time
The decor is too bright, and the waiter’s half tight
And the jazz ain’t exactly Coltrane
The joint isn’t classy, no white wine with “cass-y”
Where I have a drink with Jane
But when the world is too cold and I’m feeling too old
For the lust after lucre and gain
I forget about pelf and renew myself
By having a drink with Jane.
We sit at a table, squeeze in if we’re able
Or stand at the bar, don’t complain
We drink Bloody Marys, martinis or sherries
Or perhaps if it suits, we have flutes of champagne
When the pros are all con and the pressure is on
And I’m tired of life in the fast lane
There’s nothing more calming, more soothing—embalming!—
Than having a drink with Jane
Well they’ve stolen my bike, and the cabs are on strike
And I see I’ve just missed my last train
But what do I care when I pull up my chair
And have one more drink with Jane?
Department disasters, or soi-disant “masters”
The talk’s always light and urbane
Of how to make paté, or find jerbe mate
Or outlets for bargains and furniture stain
Well, I hate to say so, but I really must go
For that feeling’s come o’er me again
Since I’ve started this song, it’s been far, far too long
Since I last had a drink with Jane.
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7. |
The Foot of Collins Hill
03:39
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Come all of you broken hearted young men, a warning take by me
Beware of all false maidens and shun their company
I courted a farmer’s daughter for three long years or more
And to prove constant to me she vowed it o’er and o’er.
But now she’s gone and left me, this world I’d give to know
It's by her friends I’m slighted no matter where I go
This maid was young and innocent, the truth to you I’ll tell
Her parents did encourage us from first in love we fell.
Her parents did encourage us from first I went her see [sic]
Until a wealthy bleacher lad they found this fault with me
They said, “He has no money,” they slighted me therefore
They said, “He may have 50 pounds, I’m sure not any more.”
It was on the following Sunday as usual I did go
Down to her father’s dwelling not knowing things were so
It was there she plainly told me she would not marry me
But on the following Monday the bleacher’s bride she’d be.
“You can go and wed your bleacher lad and think no more of me
Don’t think I am downhearted to blame all lies on me
Don’t think I am downhearted because you proved untrue
Sure, I can find another sweetheart perhaps as good as you.
Now I hope you will be happy as the Foot of Collins Hill
And if ever I chance to pass that way which I do suppose I will
I’ll call in and see the girl I loved at the foot of Collins Hill.”
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8. |
Every Day
02:15
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Every day, it’s a getting closer
Going faster than a roller coaster
Love like yours will surely come my way
A-hey, a-hey, hey
Every day, it’s moving faster
Everyone said, “Go ahead and ask her!”
Love like yours will surely come my way
A-hey, a-hey, hey
Every day seems a little longer
Every way love’s a little stronger
Come what may, do you ever long for
True love from me?
Every day, it’s a getting closer
Going faster than a roller coaster
Love like yours will surely come my way
A-hey, a-hey, hey
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9. |
The Salmon Poachers
04:05
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Come all you gallant poachers and listen unto me
I’ll tell you of the sport we had upon the range so free
To poach some fish was our intent as you may understand
To dine, to sup, to serve them up and so our menu planned.
Our valiant crew set forth at dawn the market for to wander
There many’s a noble fish we saw—pike, tuna, bass, and flounder
Till passing by a tiny stall we spied upon the ice
A salmon great meant for the plate—we bought him in a trice.
His scales they shone like silver, his tail was broad and flared
His eyes were clear as window glass and at us fiercely glared
His teeth were sharp as scimitars, his gills a ruby red
As grand a fish as we could wish to feed or to be fed.
Now one of us suggested that we slice him into steaks
And grill them on the barbecue to serve with crisp corn cakes
The rest of us were much dismayed and said t’would be a shame
For t’was our goal to poach him whole and so we did proclaim.
We bore that great fish home, my boys, we scaled him clean and neat
We found a kettle long enough for him to lie in straight
We swaddled him in cheesecloth and with string so trimly trussed
Like old King Tut we laid him out in his sarcophagus.
We poached that fish with herbs and wine ten minutes to the inch
We verified that he was done all with a tender pinch
We drew him gently from the broth and ere he could grow cool
The cloth unwrapped, with sauces napped as bright as any jewel.
The first bite that we took, my boys, it made us for to wonder
That fish so moist and flavourful, neither overdone nor under
We feasted long into the night with wives and children dear
We ate our fill, from tail to gill, of salmon without peer.
So now we’ve eat that fish, my boys, and homeward we disperse
We’ll praise fish poachers everywhere in melody and verse
We’ll drink a glass of good white wine and pledge undying love
To those that cook and do not shirk the kitchen and the stove.
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10. |
Case of Needles
02:50
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I’m a poor wand’ring pedlar my name it is Jack
My clothes are all tore and they hang off my back
My insides are empty my feet are all sore
Won’t you buy a case of needles from Jack now so poor.
Case of needles won’t you buy one
You’ll buy one I’m sure
Just buy a case of needles
From Jack now so poor.
I once had a table and well lined with food
And everything on it was everything good
But now I have no table and none such of that
I’ve always to eat from the crown of my hat.
Case of needles ....
I once was a farmer and followed my plough
But now I’m a dandy, just look at me now
I once had good clothing from bottom to top
But now I resemble a walking rag shop.
Case of needles ....
I once had a kerchief and a pocket before
Well lined with killarney and notes oh galore
But since my misfortune has proved so unkind
I’ve always to wipe with whatever I find.
Case of needles ....
Kind friends I must leave you and bid you adieu
And oh, how it grieves me to leave all of you
To leave such kind faces, but when I come back
You’ll buy a case of needles from old pedlar Jack.
Case of needles ....
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11. |
William O’Brian
06:44
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You loyal hearted Irish boys, attend to what I say
The lines are true I now tell you I’m going to relate
It’s of an Irish immigrant in the town of Temple Moor
Seeking for employment came to Columbia’s shore.
William O’Brian was this young man’s name, the subject of my song
Before the cruel war broke out, to America he come
He was of noble bearing, his spirit light and free
And with the draft he joined the north against the enemy.
In the Philadelphia regiment I mean to let you know
O’Brian in many a battle fought against the southern foe
The major’s daughter fell in love with him as you will plainly see
Her father swore and was resolved to prove his destiny.
On March the fifth at New Orleans, as you will plainly hear
He did insult the soldier boy upon the battle square
“ You may thank your daughter,” said O’Brian, “or else I’d end the strife,”
The major then a sword he drew and tried to take his life.
O’Brian then a pistol drew with an eye both sharp and keen
And like a gallant soldier, he quickly took his aim
In order to defend himself he fired that fatal ball
Which lodged all in the major’s breast and caused the tyrant fall.
When the report was heard the guards did him surround
He was taken prisoner, strong arms were quickly bound
Court martial on O’Brian then was held immediately
And he was sentenced to be shot far from his counteree.
His coffin was got ready, he was ordered to kneel down
A sergeant with a handkerchief, his eyes were firmly bound
By a holy priest from Carmeltown he was prepared to die
In hopes for to get pardoned from the Lord that rules on high.
They were ordered to fix bayonets, get ready, present, and fire
Before they could get ready, the major’s daughter did appear
With a voice as loud as thunder, saying, “Come set this prisoner free
For here’s a letter for his reprieve that’s granted unto me.”
She quickly stepped up to O’Brian, she took him by the hand
Saying, “Rise up, my bold Tipp’rary lad, you are now at my command,
‘ Tis true that I’m in love with you, though you’ve taken my father’s life
And he had vowed and sworn that I ne’er would be your wife.”
Now to conclude and finish and to see what love could do
She got married to O’Brian and proved both loyal and true
She saved him from that fatal ball, her dear and only joy
She is now in New York City with her bold Tipp’rary boy.
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12. |
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I went to a party, it was on a Friday night
And I couldn’t hardly get inside the door
There must have been a hundred people jammed in every room
Dancing if they found a piece of floor
I spied a pretty gal with a twinkle in her eye
Just as fresh and perky as an ingenue
I asked her if she danced and she grinned at me and said
“You bet your sweet patootie that I do!”
We danced and we danced and we danced a little more
We were working up a hearty appetite
So we grabbed our coat and hat and we headed out the door
And we found a quiet place to have a bite
We ate and we talked and we talked a little more
And it wasn’t hard to see what might ensue
I asked her, “Do you wanna?” and she grinned at me and said
“You bet your sweet patootie that I do!”
Now you know I love my sweetie when the stars come out at night
And when the morning sun is overhead
I love her in the winter when the snow is on the ground
And when the autumn leaves are turning red
I love her when she’s happy, I love her when she’s sad
But I’ll tell you something strictly entre nous
I love her best of all when she grins at me and says
“You bet your sweet patootie that I do!”
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13. |
If He’s Gone, Let Him Go
03:05
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If he’s gone, let him go, let him sink or let him swim
If he don’t care for me, well, I surely don’t for him
But why should I care, I’m so happy, young, and free
And I can find another one when he is gone from me.
He loved me just a little bit like the dew upon the corn
Put it on in the evening time, took it off at morn
But why should I care, I’m so happy, young, and free
And I can find another one when he is gone from me.
He was small and he was pretty and his ways were oh, so neat
Isn’t it a pity he’s so full of his deceit
But why should I care, I’m so happy, young, and free
And I can find another one when he is gone from me.
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14. |
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I won’t dance the last waltz with you
For who knows just where it may lead
Walking you home ‘neath the pale moonlight
Might prove dangerous indeed
Your hand in mine as we strolled down the lane
Talking till one, two, or three
Oh, I know for sure we’d be taking a chance
If you danced the last waltz with me.
I won’t dance the last waltz with you
For you know I’d be waltzing on air
Head over heels as we danced round the room
Much too light-hearted to care
Holding you close in a final embrace
After the music was through
Well, I couldn’t promise I’d ever let go
If I danced the last waltz with you.
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Shelley Posen Ottawa, Ontario
SHELLEY POSEN is a Canadian songwriter and performer of his own and traditional songs. He writes in many styles and on many subjects. His songs are widely recognized for their wit, craftsmanship, and the profound effect many seem to have on listeners.
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