1. |
Hopping Down in Kent
03:09
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Now some say hopping's lousy
I don't believe it's true
We only go down hopping
To pick a hop or two
With a tee-I-o, tee-I-o, tee-I-ee-I-o.
Now when I went a hopping
Hopping down in Kent
I saw old Mother Riley
A-sweeping out her tent
Now every Monday morning
Just at six o'clock
You'll hear old hoppers calling
Get up and boil your pot
Now Sunday is our washing day
Don't we wash it clean
We boil it in our hopping pots
And hang it on the green
Now do you want any money?
Yes, sir, if you please
To buy a hock of bacon
And a pound of mouldy cheese
Now here comes our old measurer
With his long nose and chin
With his ten gallon basket
And don't he pop 'em in!
Now here comes our pole-puller
He does come around
He says get up you dirty ol' hop pickers
Come pick 'em off the ground
Now hopping is all over
All our money’s spent
And don't I wish I never
Went hopping down in Kent!
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2. |
Logy Bay
05:30
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Ye ladies and ye gentlemen
I pray ye lend an ear
While I locate the residence
Of a lovely charmer fair
The curling of her yellow locks
First stole my heart away
And her place of habitation
Is down in Logy Bay
'Twas on a summer's evening
This little place I found
I met her aged father
Who did me sore confound
Saying if you address my daughter,
I'll send her far away
And she never will return again
While you're in Logy Bay
How could you be so cruel as
To part me from my love?
Her tender heart beats in her breast
As constant as a dove
Oh, Venus was no fairer
Nor the lovely month of May
May Heaven above shower down its love
On the star of Logy Bay
Her father rose next morning
And went to St. John's town
He engaged for her a passage
On a vessel outward bound
He robbed me of my heart's delight
And sent her far away
Which left me broken-hearted
For the star of Logy Bay
Oh, now I'll go a-roaming
I can no longer stay
I'll search the wide world over
Until my dying day
I'll search in vain through France and Spain
Likewise Americay
'Til I do sight my heart's delight
The star of Logy Bay
Now to conclude and finish
The truth to you I'll tell
Between Torbay and Outer Cove
'Tis there my love did dwell
The finest girl ever graced our Isle
So everyone did say
May Heaven above send down its love
On the star of Logy Bay
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3. |
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4. |
Hobbety Bobbety How-Now
03:00
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Robin Tulloch he married a wife
Hobbety bobbety how-now
She turned out to be the plague of his life
With a hey-down, ho-down, duffle green petticoat
Robin he curses her now now
She never gets up till twelve o’clock
Puts on her gown and above it her smock
She sweeps the floor but twice a year
Because she says the brooms are too dear
She milks the cows but once a week
And that's what makes her butter so sweet
And when she churns she churns in a boot
Instead of a paddle she uses her foot
She puts the cheese upon the shelf
And leaves it there till it turns itself
It turns of itself and it fell on the floor
Got up to its feet and ran out the door
It ran till it came to Wakefield Cross
And she followed after upon a white horse
This is a song for women and men
If you want anymore you must sing it again
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5. |
The Lowlands of Holland
03:08
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On the night that I was married and in my marriage bed
There came a bold sea-captain and he stood at my bedhead
Saying, arise, arise young wedded man this night for to go with me
To the low lowlands of Holland to fight the enemy.
Oh, I held my love all in my arms, still hoping he might stay,
When the captain he gave another order and we had to march away,
Saying, there's many a blithe young married man this night must go with me
To the low lowlands of Holland to fight the enemy.
But Holland it is a wondrous place and in it grows much green
'Tis a wild inhabitation for my true love to be in.
Where the leaves they grow and the winds they do blow and strange fruit grows on every tree
'Tis the wild wild lands of Holland where twined my love and me.
No shoes nor stocking I'll put on nor comb to go through my hair
And nor shall day or candlelight shine on my bower fair
Nor shall I sleep with any young man until the day I die
For the lowlands of Holland they parted my love and I.
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Erin Brown & Barry Watson Ely, UK
Erin Brown & Barry Watson offer lively renditions of traditional folk music featuring vocals, fiddle, stomp box and accordion (plus occasional appearances from whistles and bouzouki). Songs and tunes are taken from England, Ireland, Scotland and further afield, but the accompaniment is typically stompy and English, with the odd syncopated Breton rhythm thrown in for good measure. ... more
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