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1. |
Dinny Delaneys
03:01
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2. |
Monto
04:40
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Well, if you've got a wing-o,
Take her up to Ring-o
Where the waxies sing-o all the day;
If you've had your fill of porter, And you can't go any further
Give your man the order: "Back to the Quay!"
And take her up to Monto, Monto, Monto
Take her up to Monto, lan-ge-roo,
To you!
Have you heard of Buckshot Forster,
The dirty old impostor
Took a mot and lost her, up the Furry Glen.
He first put on his bowler
And buttoned up his trousers,
Then whistled for a growler and he said, "My man!"
Take me up to Monto, Monto, Monto
Take me up to Monto, lan-ge-roo,
To you!
You've seen the Dublin Fusiliers,
The dirty old bamboozeleers,
De Wet'll kill them chiselers, one, two, three.
Marching from the Linen Hall
There's one for every cannonball,
And Vicky's going to send them all, o'er the sea.
But first go up to Monto, Monto, Monto
March them up to Monto, lan-ge-roo,
To you!
When Carey told on Skin-the-goat,
O'Donnell caught him on the boat
He wished he'd never been afloat, the dirty skite.
It wasn't very sensible
To tell on the Invincibles
They stand up for their principles, day and night.
And you'll find them all in Monto, Monto, Monto
Standing up in Monto, lan-ge-roo,
To you!
Now when the Tsar of Russia
And the King of Prussia
Landed in the Phoenix in a big balloon,
They asked the police band
To play "The Wearin' of the Green"
But the buggers from the depot didn't know the tune.
So they both went up to Monto, Monto, Monto
Scarpered up to Monto, lan-ge-roo,
To you!
The Queen she came to call on us,
She wanted to see all of us
I'm glad she didn't fall on us, she's eighteen stone.
"Mister Me Lord Mayor," says she,
"Is this all you've got to show me?"
"Why, no ma'am there's some more to see, Póg mo thóin! " ('Kiss my arse!')
And he took her up Monto, Monto, Monto
He set her up in Monto, lan-ge-roo,
For you!
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3. |
Alta
04:37
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4. |
Dire Gelt
04:12
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Dire-gelt un oy oy oy, Dire-gelt un boshe moy
Dire-gelt un gradewoy, Dire-gelt mus men tsoln
Kumt arayn der strush, nemt er arop dos hitl
Un as men tsolt im mit keyn dire-gelt Hengt er aroys a kwitl
Dire-gelt un oy oy oy, Dire-gelt un boshe moy
Dire-gelt un gradewoy, Dire-gelt mus men tsoln
Kumt arayn der sshonzte mit dem grobn shtekn
Un as men gibt im nit keyn dire-gelt Shtelt er aroys di betn
Dire-gelt un oy oy oy, Dire-gelt un boshe moy
Dire-gelt un gradewoy, Dire-gelt mus men tsoln
Oy farwos sol ich aych gebn dire-gelt, as di kich is zerbrochn?
Oy farwos sol ich aych tsoln dire-gelt, as ich hob nisht
ojf wos zu kochn?
Tune: we have no clue what it´s called. Lucky learned it From a Serbian guy in Amsterdam some years ago. If you know it, write us.
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5. |
Chosn Kalah Mazel Tov
03:13
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6. |
Karagouna
05:47
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7. |
Rocky Road to Dublin
03:44
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In the merry month of May, from me home I started
Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken hearted
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother
Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born
Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins
A brand new pair of brogues to rattle o'er the bogs
And fright'ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary
Started by daylight next morning blithe and early
Took a drop of the pure to keep me heart from sinking
That's the Paddy's cure whenever he's up for drinking
See the lassies smile, laughing all the while
At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'
Asked me was I hired, wages I required
I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Tune: Golden Castle (Reel)
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity
To be soon deprived a view of that fine city
So then I took a stroll, all among the quality
Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality
Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'
Inquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah
From there I got away, me spirits never falling
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing
The Captain at me roared, said that no room had he
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy
Down among the pigs, played some hearty rigs
Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling
When off Holyhead, I wished meself was dead
Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Tune: Golden Castle (Reel)
Well, the boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing
Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing
"Hurrah me soul" says I, me Shillelagh I let fly
Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in
With a load "Hurray" joined in the affray
We quietly cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
And all the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah
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8. |
Malshree
02:49
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9. |
Sinc and guldin Huon
04:10
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Sinc an, guldîn huon! ich gibe dir weize”,
(schiere dô wart ich vrô)
sprach si, nâch der hulden ich dâ singe:
alsô vreut den tumben guot geheize
(durch daz jâr. würde ez wâr,)
sô gestuont nie mannes muot sô ringe,
alsô mir der mîne danne wære.
mac si durch ir geilicheit (mîniu leit)
wenden? Ja ist mîn kumber klagebære.
Los ûz! ich hœr in der stuben tanzen.
junge man, tuot iuch dan!
da ist der dorefwîbe ein michel trünne.
dâ gesach man schône ridewanzen.
(zwêne gigen; dô si swigen)
daz was geiler getelinge wünne,
horch, dô wart von zeche vor gesungen!
durch diu venster gie der galm.
(Adelhalm)
tanzet niwan zwischen zweien jungen.
Tune: Tom Vicar´s Polka
Rûmet ûz die schämel und die stüele!
(heiz die schragen vuder tragen!)
hiute sul wir tanzens werden müeder.
werfet ûf die stuben, so ist ez küele,
(daz der wint an diu kint)
sanfte wæje durch diu übermüeder!
sô die vortanzer danne swîgen,
sô sult ir alle sîn gebeten,
(daz wir treten)
aber ein hovetänzel nâch der gîgen:
Tune: Tom Vicar´s Polka
Sâht ir ie gebûren sô gemeiten,
(als er ist? wizze krist!)
er ist al ze vorderst anme reien.
niuwen vezzel zweier hende breiten
(hât sîn swert. harte wert)
dünket er sich sîner niuwen treien:
diust von kleinen vier und zweinzec tuochen,
di ermel gênt im ûf die hant: (sîn gewant)
sol man an eim oeden kragen suochen.
Tune: Skudrinka
Imst sîn treie nie sô wol zerhouwen
(noch sîn kel nie sô hel,)
er enmüge sî sîn wol erlâzen.
disen sumer hât er sî gekouwen
(gar vür brôt. schamerôt)
wart ich, dô si bî ein ander sâzen.
wirt si mir, der ich dâ gerne diene,
guotes gibe ich ir die wal, (Riuwentaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal)
gar vür eigen: da ist mîn Hôhiu Siene.
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10. |
Douce Dame Jolie
03:19
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Fiddelaltermolk Hamburg, Germany
Medieval Speedfolk from Hamburg since 2001 or so.
Fiddelaltermolk recommends:
Balins old Band. Check it out!
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Raging Hardcore Punk with Krischan on Bass.
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the only christmas record you´ll ever need
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