The following are the lyrics to the songs by The Liverpool Fishermen found on Side Two of the record album The Mushroom Folk Sampler. You will sometimes find notes below the lyrics explaining terms and locations mentioned in the songs.
Yate’s White’s Blues
written by Brian Jacques
Intoxicating liquor I’ve consumed for many years,
slowly pickling me innards,
in the draught and bottled beers.
Brandy, whisky, gin and rum
have filled me with delight,
but I got d.t.’s and tremblin’ knees
from Sweet Australian White.The Irish may drink Porter
and of whisky, Jock will reek
and a Taffy will drink anything
then nip out for a leek,
and down the south of England
the Cider is alright,
but the hardest stuff, it’s bloody rough
is Sweet Australian White.It’s wild and sweet and indiscreet
in samples or in docks,
and it makes you feel like your ould head
was stuffed wid granite rocks.
So rise to the occasion,
an’ you’re headed for a fall,
you’ll climb up pavements ten feet high,
fight scuffers three feet tall.The Irish may drink Porter
and of whisky, Jock will reek
and Taffy will drink anything
then nip out for a leek,
and down the south of England
the Cider is alright,
but the hardest stuff, it’s bloody rough
is Sweet Australian White.So drink your first one in small sips,
you’ll find it tastes alright.
Now knock your second one right back,
you’re gettin’ to like the white.
At the third, the barmaid’s got three heads,
she’s hoverin’ over the door.
At the fourth you’ll think “who’s nailed
the bloody ceiling to the floor!”The Irish may drink Porter
and of whisky, Jock will reek
a Taffy will drink anything
then nip out for a leek,
and down the south of England
the Cider is alright,
but the hardest stuff, it’s bloody rough
is Sweet Australian White.And when you wake in Cheapside
and the sergeant says you’ve been
charged with the mug and plate act
of eighteen canteen–
it’s gonna cost yer two pound ten
for drunk and refusin’ to fight
and they call this jail the ‘Billiard room’.
‘cos you’re in off the white!The Irish may drink Porter
and of whisky, Jock will reek
a Taffy will drink anything
then nip out for a leek,
and down the south of England
the Cider is alright,
but the hardest stuff, it’s bloody rough
is Sweet Australian White!
The Ould Triangle
written by Brendan Behan
A hungry feeling came o’er me stealing,
and the mice were squealing in me prison cell–And the ould triangle, went jingle jangle
all along the banks of the Royal Canal.And to begin the morning, the screw came bawling,
“Ah, get up there [???] and clean your cell!”And the ould triangle, went jingle jangle
all along the banks of the Royal Canal.And the screw came creeping, and the lag lay sleeping
He was dreaming of his gal, Sal.And the ould triangle, went jingle jangle
all along the banks of the Royal Canal.Up in that female prison, there are seventy-nine women
and amongst them I wish I could dwell!And the ould triangle, would go jingle jangle
all along the banks of the Royal Canal!
Notes -
[???] — Indistinct lyric. Traditionally “bowsie” or “you”. Sounds like “yatesy”.
Maid of Fife
There once was a troop of Irish Dragoons
Came marching down through ol’ Fife-e-o
And the captain fell in love with a very bonny lass
And her name it was called pretty Peggy-oThere’s many a bonny lass in the Howe of Auchterless
There’s many a bonny lassie in the Garioch-o
There’s many a bonny Jean in the streets of Aberdeen
But the fleur of them all ‘bides in Fife-e-o“Come down the stairs pretty Peggy my love!
Oh, come down the stairs pretty Peggy-o!
Oh, come down the stairs and tie back your yellow hair,
take a last farewell to your mammy-o!”It’s braw, it’s braw, the captain’s lady for to be!
It’s braw to be a captain’s lady-o!
It’s braw to rant and rove and to follow at his word
and to ride when your captain he is ready-o!“I never did intend a soldier’s lady for to be.
I never will marry a soldier-o!
I never did intend to g’ang to a foreign land
and I never will marry a soldier-o!”Now up cried the colonel, “Mount, boys, mount!”
“Steady,” cried out captain “O tarry-o”
“O tarry for a while, for another day or twa’
’till I see if this bonny lass will marry-o.”It was early in the morning that we marched awa’
and O but the captain was sorry-o!
The drums they did beat o’er the bonnie braes o’ sweet
And the pipes played the lowlands of Fife-e-o.Long ‘ere we reached ol’ [???] Town
we had our captain to carry-o.
And long before we reached the streets of Aberdeen
we had our captain to bury-o!Oh green grow the birks on bonny Ythanside
and low lie the lowlands of Fife-e-o!
Our captain’s name was Ned and he died for a maid
he died for a chambermaid of Fife-e-o!
Notes -
Fife — A council area of Scotland. Strong evidence that the song actually refers to Fyvie, a small village in Aberdeenshire, Scotland.
Auchterless — A village in Aberdeenshire, Scotland.
Garioch — Pronounced “gee-ree”. One of six committee areas in Aberdeenshire, Scotland.
Aberdeen — Third largest city in Scotland.
[???] — Indistinct lyric. Traditionally “Auchterless”. Sounds like “Melbun”.
Ythanside — The Ythan River in the east of Scotland.
Home Boys Home
And it’s home, boys, home– TWO! THREE!
Home, I’d like to be home for a while, in me own country.
Where the oak and the ash and the bonnie rowan tree
are all growing greener in the North Country.Well, he wouldn’t be a sailor lad, a-sailing on the main,
to gain the good will of his captain’s good name!
I came ashore there one evening for to see,
that was the beginning of me own true love and me!And it’s home, boys, home– TWO! THREE!
Home, I’d like to be home for a while, in me own country.
Where the oak and the ash and the bonnie rowan tree
are all growing greener in the North Country.Well, I asked her for a candle, to light me up to bed,
and likewise for a handkerchief, to tie around me head.
She tended to me needs, like a young maid ought to do.
Then I asked her would she’d like to livin’ with me too!And it’s home, boys, home– TWO! THREE!
Home, I’d like to be home for a while, in me own country.
Where the oak and the ash and the bonnie rowan tree
are all growing greener in the North Country.Well, she jumped into bed, making no alarm,
thinking a young sailor lad could do to her no harm.
I hugged her and I kissed her the whole night strong,
till she wished the short night had been seven years long!And it’s home, boys, home– TWO! THREE!
Home, I’d like to be home for a while, in me own country.
Where the oak and the ash and the bonnie rowan tree
are all growing greener in the North Country.Oh well early next morning, the sailor lad arose,
and into Mary’s apron threw a handful of gold.
Saying, “Take this, me dear, for the mischief I have done.
Tonight I fear I left you with a daughter or a son!”And it’s home, boys, home– TWO! THREE!
Home, I’d like to be home for a while, in me own country.
Where the oak and the ash and the bonnie rowan tree
are all growing greener in the North Country.Ah well, if it be a girl child, send her off to nurse,
with gold in her pocket and silver in her purse.
But if it be a boy child, he’ll wear a jacket blue
and go climbing up the rigging like his daddy used to do!And it’s home, boys, home– TWO! THREE!
Home, I’d like to be home for a while, in me own country.
Where the oak and the ash and the bonnie rowan tree
are all growing greener in the North Country.Well, come all you young maidens, and listen unto me!
Never trust a sailor lad an inch above your knee!
’cause I trusted one, and he beguiled me,
and he left me with a pair of twins to dangle on me knee!And it’s home, boys, home– TWO! THREE!
Home, I’d like to be home for a while, in me own country.
Where the oak and the ash and the bonnie rowan tree
are all growing greener in the North Country.And it’s home, boys, home– TWO! THREE!
Home, I’d like to be home for a while, in me own country.
Where the oak and the ash and the bonnie rowan tree
are all growing greener in the North Countryyyyy!
