The following are the lyrics to the songs found on the record album A Gig wid Brig by Brian Jacques & Brigantine. You will sometimes find notes below the lyrics explaining terms and locations mentioned in the songs.
Liverpool Home
written by Peter McGovern
I was born in Liverpool, down by the Docks.
Me religion was Catholic, occupation hard knocks.
At stealing from lorries, I was adept.
And it’s under old overcoats, each night we slept…In my Liverpool home, (LA LI LA) in my Liverpool home…
We speak with an accent exceedingly rare,
meet under a statue exceedingly bare,
and if you want a cathedral, we’ve got two to spare,
in my Liverpool home.Well, back in the Forties, the world it went mad
And Hitler, he threw at us all that he had.
When the dust and the smoke had all cleared from the air,
“Thank God”, said the ould man, “the Pier Head’s still there!”And it’s in my Liverpool home, (LA DI DA) in my Liverpool home…
We speak with an accent exceedingly rare,
meet under a statue exceedingly bare,
and if you want a cathedral, we’ve got two to spare,
in my Liverpool home.Now when I was young, I met Bridget McCann.
She said, “You’re not much, but I’m needing a man.
I want 16 kids and a house out in Speke.”
Well, the spirit was willing, but the flesh it was weak.And it’s in my Liverpool home, (LA DA DA) in my Liverpool home…
We speak with an accent exceedingly rare,
meet under a statue exceedingly bare,
if you want a cathedral, we’ve got two to spare,
in my Liverpool home.Now the orange and green have been fightin’ for years.
They’ve given us some laughs, they’ve given us some tears.
But the wackers don’t want any heavenly rewards,
all they want is a green card to get out of Ford’s!And it’s in my Liverpool home, (WA WA WA) in my Liverpool home…
We speak with an accent exceedingly rare,
meet under a statue exceedingly bare,
if you want a cathedral, we’ve got two to spare,
in my Liverpool home.And when the time comes, and the Lord above says,
” ‘sup your last Guinness, lad, it’s the end of your days.”
Take my ashes to Goodison and scatter them round
and they won’t win a match while I’m haunting the ground!And it’s in my Liverpool home, (EVERYBODY NOW/LA LI LA) in my Liverpool home…
We speak with an accent exceedingly rare,
meet under a statue exceedingly bare,
and if you want a cathedral, we’ve got two to spare,
in my Liverpool home!
Notes -
statue exceedingly bare — the statue above the main entrance of Lewis’ department store, a favorite Liverpool meeting place.
cathedral, we’ve got two to spare — Liverpool has two cathedrals, one at either end of Hope Street. The Catholic Cathedral (affectionately known as “Paddy’s Wigwam”) and the Anglican Cathedral (which left the last stone out because there’s a legend that if it’s ever finished, a great disaster will strike).
Speke — a district of Liverpool.
Pier Head — the historic location of Liverpool’s landing stages and the “Three Graces”, the Royal Liver Building, the Cunard Building, and the Port of Liverpool Building. (Also the home of Prince’s Landing Stage until 1972.)
Orange and Green — Protestants (Oranges) and Catholics (Greens).
Guinness — brand of beer.
Goodison — Goodison Park, the home ground of the Everton F.C. soccer team in Liverpool.
Someday Soon
written by Ian Tyson
There’s a young man that I know,
he’s just turned twenty one.
He comes from down in southern Colorado.
He just got out of service, and he’s looking for his fun.
Someday soon, going with him.
Someday soon.My parents, they don’t like him
’cause he rides the rodeo.
They say, “He’s not your kind,
he’ll leave you crying.”
But if he calls, I’ll follow
down the roughest road of all.
Someday soon, going with him.
Someday soon.When he visits me
my Pa ain’t got one good word to say.
I guess it’s ’cause he was as wild
back in his early days.Blow you ol’ blue norther.
Blow him back to me.
He’s probably riding out from California.
He loves that damned ol’ rodeo
as much as he loves me.
Someday soon, going with him.
Someday soon.When he visits me
my Pa ain’t got one good word to say.
I guess it’s ’cause he was as wild
back in his early days.Blow you ol’ blue norther.
Blow him back to me.
He’s probably riding out from California.
He loves that damned ol’ rodeo
as much as he loves me.
Someday soon, going with him.
Someday soon.Someday soon, going with him.
Someday soon.
Deportees
written by Woody Guthrie
The crops are all in and the peaches are gathered.
The oranges rot in their creseote dumps.
They’re flying us back to the Mexican border,
it takes all our money to wade back again.Farewell to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita.
Adios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria.
You won’t have a name when you ride the big airplane,
all they will call you will be “deportees”.My father’s own father he rode the big airplane,
they took all the money he made in his life.
My brothers and sisters they worked in the fruit fields,
rode on the wagons till they laid down and died.Farewell to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita.
Adios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria.
You won’t have a name when you ride the big airplane,
all they will call you will be “deportees”.Skyplane caught fire over Los Gatos Canyon,
the fireball of lightning, it shook all our hills.
Who are these friends who are scattered like dry leaves?
The radio tells us they’re just deportees.Farewell to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita.
Adios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria.
You won’t have a name when you ride the big airplane,
all they will call you will be “deportees”.Is this the best way we can grow our good orchards?
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit?
To drop down like leaves and then rot on the topsoil,
and never know no name except deportees?Farewell to my Juan, goodbye Rosalita.
Adios mis amigos, Jesus and Maria.
You won’t have a name when you ride the big airplane,
all they will call you will be “deportees”.
Timothy Winters
written by Charles Causley
Timothy Winters goes to school,
eyes as wide as a football-pool.
Ears like a bomb and teeth like splinters,
a blitz of a boy is Timothy Winters.His belly is white and his neck is dark,
his hair is an exclamation-mark.
His clothes are enough to scare a crow
and through his britches the blue winds blow.When teacher speaks, he won’t hear a word
and he shoots down dead the arithmetic-bird.
He licks the pattern off the plate
and he’s never even heard of the Welfare State.Timothy Winters has bloody feet
and he lives in a house on Suez Street.
He sleeps in a sack on the kitchen floor
and they say there aren’t kids like him anymore.Old Man Winters likes his beer
and his missus ran off with a bombardier.
Grandma sits in the grate with a gin
and Timothy’s dosed with an aspirin.The welfare Worker lies awake,
but the law’s as tricky as a ten-foot snake.
While Timothy Winters drinks his cup
and slowly goes on growing up.At Morning Prayers, the Master helves
for children less fortunate than ourselves.
And the loudest response in the room is when
Timothy Winters says “Amen!”So come one angel, come on ten,
Timothy Winters says “Amen
Amen amen amen amen.”
Timothy Winters, Lord. Amen.
Leaving of Liverpool
Fare thee well you Prince’s Landing Stage.
River Mersey, fare thee well.
For I’m bound for Californ-eye-aye,
it’s a place I know right well.So fare thee well, my own true love
and when I return, united we will be. (UP THE VALLEY!)
It’s not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me,
but my darling when I think of thee.I have signed on board a Yankee Clipper ship.
Davy Crockett is her name.
Ian Burgess is the Captain of her,
and they say that she’s a floating shame.So fare thee well, my own true love
and when I return, united we will be. (UP THE VALLEY!)
It’s not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me,
but my darling when I think of thee.I have signed with Burgess once before,
and I reckon I know him well.
If a man’s a sailor, he will get along,
but if not, well then he’s sure in Hell. (in hell)So fare thee well, my own true love,
and when I return, united we will be. (UP THE VALLEY!)
It’s not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me,
but my darling when I think of thee.And fare thee well to lower Frederick Street,
Ensign Terrace and Park Lane.
For I’m bound for Californ-eye-aye
and I’ll not see you again.So fare thee well, my own true love
and when I return, united we will be. (UP THE VALLEY!)
It’s not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me,
but my darling when I think of thee.So fare thee well, my own true love
and when I return, united we will be. (UP THE VALLEY!)
It’s not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me
but my darling when I think of thee!
Notes -
UP THE VALLEY! — In the words of Brian Jacques, “In the middle of the chorus, where you go ‘So fare thee well, my own true love, and when I return united we will be’ you all shout– we always shout ‘Up the valley’. It has something to do with a religious procession in Liverpool. But you can shout, y’know, up the barmaid, up the sister-in-law, whatever takes you there, y’know.“
