Category: Lyrics

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

I am a weaver a Calton Weaver, I am a rash and a rovin’ blade
I’ve got sill’er in my pooches and I’ll gang an’ follow the roving trade.

Whisky, Whisky, Nancy Whisky. Whisky, Whisky Nancy-o!

As I went in by Glasgow City, Nancy Whisky I chanced to smell,
I went in, sat doon beside her, seven long years I loo’ed her well.

Whisky, Whisky, Nancy Whisky. Whisky, Whisky Nancy-o!

The more I kissed her the more I lov’ed her.
The more I kissed her the more she smiled.
Til I forgot my mither’s teachin’, Nancy soon had me beguiled.

Whisky, Whisky, Nancy Whisky. Whisky, Whisky Nancy-o!

When I rose early morning in the morning to quench my thirst it was my need
I tried to rise but I wisna able, Nancy had me by the heid.

Whisky, Whisky, Nancy Whisky. Whisky, Whisky Nancy-o!

I’m going back to the Carlton weaving I’ll surely make those shuttles fly

And curses be on Nancy whisky for Nancy whisky has ruined I

Whisky, Whisky, Nancy Whisky. Whisky, Whisky Nancy-o!

So come all you weavers, Calton Weavers
Come all you weavers where ere you be.
Beware of Whisky Nancy Whisky, She’ll ruin you as she ruined me.

Whisky, Whisky, Nancy Whisky. Whisky, Whisky Nancy-o!

I was born of Scottish parents one day when I was young
That’s why the Scottish accent is my native tongue
I was a pretty baby, my mother she did vow
The girls all ran to kiss me – I wish they’d do it now

When I was only six months old the girls would handle me
They’d clutch me to their bosoms and bounce me on their knees
They’d rock me in my cradle if I made a row
They’d tickle me and cuddle me – I wish they’d do it now

At sixteen months as fine a lad as ever could be seen
The girls would all follow me when I went to the green
They’d make a chain of buttercups, place it on my brow
And they’d roll me in the clover – I wish they’d do it now

The eastern girls would go with me to swim when it was mild
Down to the river we would go, splash around awhile
They’d throw the water over me, duck me like a cow
Then they’d rub me nice all over – I wish they’d do it now

Well it’s awful lonely for a lad to live a single life
I think l’ll go to the dance tonight and find myself a wife
Oh have got six brindled pigs, likewise one fat sow

they’ll be plenty love and bacon for the girl who loves me now.

For the girl who loves me now for the girl who loves me now

They’ll be plenty love an bacon for the girl who loves me now.

When these shoes were new
It was ‘How do you do’
It was whisky and telling of tales
And when my shirt was clean
I was there to be seen
I had clear eyes and my smile never failed

Chorus

All of my brothers that I met on the way
They were drinking by night, 
They were drinking by day
I’ll restore to my eyes
What was clear and was right
Honey take me out drinking tonight
Oh, take me out drinking tonight

Bluebells on matches
And stains on the table
Oh the sweet smell of the luscious woodbine
Oh Mr MacEwan
You will be my ruin
Oh I see it but I really don’t mind

Now I’m still smiling through
Though there’s stains on my shoes
The right it is heavy and the left it is right
If it’s left up to you
Then I know what we’ll do
Oh honey take me out drinking tonight
Oh take me out drinking tonight
Oh honey take me out drinking tonight

I have seen snow that fell in May

And I have seen rain on cloudless days

Somethings are always bound to change

There ain’t no ash will burn

.

Love is a precious thing I’m told

It burns just like West Virginia coal

But when the fire dies down it’s cold

There ain’t no ash will burn

.

You say this life is not your lot

Well I can’t be something that I’m not

We can’t stoke a fire that we ain’t got

There ain’t no ash will burn

.

In every life there comes a time

Where there are no more tears to cry

We must leave something dear behind

There ain’t no ash will burn

.

There is one lesson I have learned

There ain’t no ash will burn

Roch the wind in the clear day’s dawin

Blaws the cloods heelster-gowdie ow’r the bay,

But there’s mair nor a roch wind blawin

Through the great glen o’ the warld the day.

It’s a thocht that will gar oor rottans

 A’ they rogues that gang gallus, fresh and gay –

Tak the road, and seek ither loanins

For their ill ploys, tae sport and play

.

Nae mair will the bonnie callants

Mairch tae war when oor braggarts crousely craw,

Nor wee weans frae pit-heid and clachan

Mourn the ships sailin’ doon the Broomielaw.

Broken faimlies in lands we’ve herriet,

Will curse Scotland the Brave nae mair, nae mair;

Black and white, ane til ither mairriet,

Mak the vile barracks o’ their maisters bare

.

So come all ye at hame wi’ Freedom,

Never heed whit the hoodies croak for doom.

In your hoose a’ the bairns o’ Adam

Can find breid, barley-bree and painted room.

When MacLean meets wi’s freens in Springburn

A’ the roses and geans will turn tae bloom,

And a black boy frae yont Nyanga

Dings the fell gallows o’ the burghers doon.