Author: David Gilfillan

The back of the winter is broken
And light lingers long by the door
And the seeds of the summer have spoken
In gowans that bloom on the shore

Chorus.

By night and day we’ll sport and we’ll play
And delight as the dawn dances over the bay
Sleep blows the breath of the morning away
And we follow the heron home

In darkness we cradled our sorrow
And stoked all our fires with fear
Now these bones that lie empty and hollow
Are ready for gladness to cheer

So long may you sing of the salmon
And the snow-scented sounds of your home
While the north wind delivers its sermon
Of ice and salt water and stone

By night and day we’ll sport and we’ll play
And delight as the dawn dances over the bay
Sleep blows the breath of the morning away
And we follow the heron home

As I cam’ in by Turra Market, 
Turra Market for to fee, 
I fell in wi’ a mairket fairmer, 
The Barnyards of Delgaty.

Chorus 
Lintin addie toorin addie, 
Lintin addie toorin ee, 
Lintin lowrin, lowrin, lowrin, 
The barnyards of Delgaty.

He promised me the twa best horse 
That ever were in Scotland seen, 
But when I gaed doon tae the Barren Yairds, 
There was naething there but skin and bean.

The auld black horse sat on its rump, 
The auld white mare lay on her wime. 
And for all that I could “Hup” and crack, 
They wouldna rise at yokin’ time.

When I gae to the kirk on Sunday, 
Mony’s the bonnie lass I see, 
Sitting by her faither’s side 
And winkin o’er the pews at me.

I can drink and no be drunk, 
I can fecht and no be slain, 
I can lie wi another man’s lass, 
And aye be welcome to my ain.

Noo my candle is brunt oot, 
My snotter’s fairly on the wane. 
Sae fare ye weel ye Barnyards 
Ye’ll never catch me here again.

Fareweel ye dungeons dark an’ strong
Farewell, farewell to thee;
McPherson’s time will no be long
Below than gallows tree I’ll hing

It wis by a woman’s treacherous hand
‘at I wis condemned to dee
Below a ledge a windoe she stood
Then a blanket she threw ower me

Chorus (after each verse):
So rantinly, sae wantonly and sae dauntinly went he
He played a tune then he danced aroon below the gallows tree.

untie these bans fae around my hands
An’ gae bring to me my sword
For there’s no a man in all Scotland
But’|l brave him at his word.

There’s some cam’ here to see me hang’t
An’ some to buy my fiddle
But before ‘at I do part wi’ her
l’ll break her through the middle.

He took the fiddle into both of his hands

An’he broke it over a stone,
Says he, “There’s no anither han’ll play on thee
When I am dead and gone.”

The reprieve wis comin’ o’er the Brig o’ Banff
For tae let McPherson free
When they put the clock a quarter before
Then hanged him to the tree.

Chorus :

Dat du min Leevsten büst Dat du wull weeßt

Kumm bi de Nacht, kumm bi de Nacht

Segg, wo du heeßt

Kumm bi de Nacht, kumm bi de Nacht

Segg, wo du heeßt

.

Kumm du um Middernacht Kumm du Klock een

Vader slöpt, Moder slöpt Ick slap aleen

Vader slöpt, Moder slöpt Ick slap aleen

.

Klopp an de Kammerdör fat up de Klink

Vader slöpt, Moder meent Dat deit de Wind

Vader slöpt, Moder meent Dat deit de Wind

.

Wenn dann de Morgan graut Kreit dan de hann

Leevster min leevster min Du must nun Gann

Leevster min leevster min Du must nun Gann

There was never much romance in fishing – that’s just trawlermen’s tales at the bar;
It was mostly low pay, and at the end of the day it was dangerous, dirty and hard;
There were times when we made a good living, now we can’t make ends meet like we could;
We’re up to our necks, so we’re clearing the decks – getting out while the going is good.

(Chorus:)
So I’m saying goodbye to the seas, lads, saying goodbye to the sea,
Goodbye to the fishing, goodbye to the nets; the nearer it comes, lads, the harder it gets;
When you’re sailing her out for the grounds, lads, you’ll be sailing her out without me,

There’s a lump in me throat as I’m burning my boats and I’m saying goodbye to the sea.


Well I don’t mind the back-breaking labour, and I don’t mind the weeks out from home;
I don’t expect catches where you can’t close the hatches – for I know that the old days are gone;
I’m sick of this scrimping and saving, and the bankers that make your life hell;
And the ministry fools with their quotas and rules, and the Frenchies just pleasing themselves.


So it’s nine-to-five Monday to Friday – with me clock-card I’m a cog in the wheel,With butties and flask and some trivial task for some spotty lad with a degree;
Well he’ll not last a couple of minutes on the dark rolling deck of a trawler,
For where computers are king he’s the ruler of things, but me I’m just a fish out of water.

Ever since I was a nipper I had this here wish
To marry a woman who could drink like a fish.
I’d need no excuses for staying out late
Cause she’d be in an equally ‘orrible state.

chorus:

Everyone wanted to go drinking with Rosie,
When Rosie went drinking with me.
She never had eyes for good looking guys
I was the apple of her roving spies.
Everyone wanted to go drinking with Rosie,
When Rosie went drinking with me.

When I’d hit the beer My Rosie’d hit the gin.
She’d just tip back her head and she’d shovel it in.
And she would sing songs that a girl shouldn’t sing.
When Rosie went drinking with me.

Every Saturday night we’d have a good scrub.
And go for a brew down at the pub.
We’d have a few brews and a bit of a croon.
And no one would care if you sang out of tune.
(Sing the word tune off key.)

Now Old Joe’s piano was as old as could be.
And the lady wot played it was a hundred and three.
She’d play a handfull of tunes in no particular key.
When Rosie went drinking with me.

Now a fellow once said she should drink from a trough
And in no uncertain way she told him where to get off
After she’d clocked him we counted to ten.
We helped him back up and then she knee’d him again.

That’s one thing for Rosie, she done a good job.
Now that gentleman wishes he’d never opened his gob.
She’d take on the whole pub for a couple of bob.
When Rosie went drinking with me.

There cam a letter yestreen
Oor ship mon sail the morn
‘Alas’, cried the bonnie lass
That ever I was born

Chorus.

And it’s braw sailin on the sea
When wind and weather’s fair
It’s better tae be in my love’s airms
O gin that I were there

He’s cam tae her fairm hoose
At twelve o’clock at noon
The lassie being proud-hearted
She would not let him in

He’s taen the ring from his pocket
It cost him guineas three
Sayin, ‘Tak ye that my bonnie lass
And aye think weel o’ me’

And she’s taen the ring from her pocket
It cost her shillings nine
Sayin, ‘Tak ye that my bonnie lad
For I hae changed my mind’

Cam ye o’er frae France? Cam ye down by Lunnon?
Saw ye Geordie Whelps and his bonny woman?
Were ye at the place ca’d the Kittle Housie?
Saw ye Geordie’s grace riding on a goosie?

Geordie he’s a man there is little doubt o’t
He’s done a’ he can, wha can do without it?
Down there came a blade linkin’ like my lordie
He wad drive a trade at the loom o’ Geordie

Though the claith were bad, blythly may we niffer
Gin we get a wab, it makes little differ
We hae tint our plaid, bannet, belt and swordie
Ha’s and mailins braid, but we hae a Geordie

Jocky’s gane to France and Montgomery’s lady
There they’ll learn to dance, Madam, are ye ready?
They’ll be back belyve belted, brisk and lordly
Brawly may they thrive to dance a jig wi’ Geordie

Hey for Sandy Don, hey for Cockolorum
Hey for Bobbing John and his Highland Quorum
Mony a sword and lance swings at Highland hurdie
How they’ll skip and dance o’er the bum o’ Geordie

Oh, I’ll sing you a stave if you’ll gies your attention
It’s no song of pity, it’s no tale of woe
And no word of honour or love will I mention
But I’ll sing of a lassie I kept long ago

Chorus.

Nae better than most, and nae worse as many,
And what drew me to her’s no easy to say.
She was course, she was heartless and she was not that bonnie,
But she was the star o’ the bar in her day

I’ve stravaiged the Royal Mile with her, drinking in style with her,
And Rose Street from end to end often surveyed.
Fought and swore in the pubs with her,
Rolled in the clubs with her, cadged manys a sub from her never repaid

All you chaps with young lassies believe me love soon passes,
And all your bright dreams are but straws in the wind.
Better one who’ll sit down with you, sing a fine tune with you,
Pass the glass round with you, drink herself blind

No better than most, and no worse as many,
And what drew me to her’s no easy to say.
She was course, she was heartless and she was not that bonnie,
But she was the star o’ the bar in her day

He was barely a man in his grandfather's coat
Sewn into the lining, a ten-shilling note
Goodbye to the family, goodbye to the shore
Till I taste good fortune, you'll see me no more


The boat on the ocean tossed like a cork
Then one fine morning they sighted New York
And he stood on the gangplank and breathed in the air
"Hello land of plenty, I've come for my share"

{Refrain}
And he did like the ladies, the rise and the fall
Of their ankles and dresses, down on the dance floor
And rolling the dice and spinning the wheels
But he took most delight in the slip jigs and reels


There's talk a pistol and some say a knife
But all are agreed there was somebody's wife
Some kind of commotion, a terrible fight
He left a man dead and ran into the night

A train to St. Louis, just one jump ahead
He slept one eye open, a six-gun in bed
And he dreamt of the mountains and green fields of home
While crossing the plains where the buffalo roam

{Refrain}

Oh, bad reputation's a hard thing to bear
Mothers pour scorn and young children they stare
But he found consolation in flash company
Your life ain't so bad with a girl on your knee

Oh, they called him the Kid, and by twenty-one
All that he knew was the power of the gun
And by twenty-three, he'd shot five men down
Who got in his way as he rambled around

{Refrain}

There's bones in the desert and buzzards that fly
In the highest of circles, just wishing he'd die
But in matters of cruelty, it must be said
A landlord will pick your bones before you're dead

It was wild mescaleros, I heard people say
In the deadliest ambush near old Santa Fe
And a young buck was taken dressed in a coat
And inside the lining, a ten-shilling note