The Dubliners

[fox69]

"The Bonny Boy"

"The Bonny Boy"



It's busk ye, me boy's, get you up on the deck
And take up your stations for hauling the nets
And mind up all together lads all through the night
And shaking your oilskins until it's daylight
With a heave and a haul and the shaking of nets

It's when we're at hauling we're living on hope
The boy in the locker the lads on the ropes
The fellows in the hold to our hauling the nets
And shaking the herring out on to the deck
With a heave and a haul and the shaking of nets

It's net after net we pull up from the sea
With a haul and a shake and a one, two and three
The herring are a piling around our sea boots
And slithering and sliding down into the shoots
With a heave and a haul and the shaking of nets

It's hour after hour we are hauling away
All through the long night till the dawn of the day
The captain's in the wheelhouse he's on the RT
And the cook's in the galley a brewing the tea
And we're heaving and hauling and shaking of nets

Now the season is over so be on your way
And head for the home port to sign for your pay
Your missus will be waiting to welcome you home
It's so hard for a wife to be so much alone
And you're finished with heaving and hauling of nets

 

[fox69]

"The Button Pusher"

"The Button Pusher"



I am the man, the well fed man
In charge of the terrible knob
The most pleasing thing about it
It's almost a permanent job

When the atom war is over
And the world is split in three
A consolation I've got, well, maybe it's not
There'll be nobody left but me

I sit at my desk in Washington
In charge of this great machine
More vicious than Adolf Hitler
More deadly than strychnine

And in the evening after a tiring day
Just to give myself a laugh
I hit the button a playful belt
And I listen for the blast

I am the man, the well fed man
In charge of the terrible knob
The most pleasing thing about it
It's almost a permanent job

When the atom war is over
And the world is split in three
A consolation I've got, well, maybe it's not
There'll be nobody left but me

If Brezhnev starts his nonsense
And makes a nasty smell
With a wink and a nod from Nixon
I'll blast them all to hell

And as for that fellow Castro
Him with the sugar cane
He needn't hide behind his whiskers
I'll get him just the same

I am the man, the well fed man
In charge of the terrible knob
The most pleasing thing about it
It's almost a permanent job

When the atom war is over
And the world is split in three
A consolation I've got, well, maybe it's not
There'll be nobody left but me

If me wife denies my conjucular rights
Or me breakfast milk is sour
From eight to nine in the morning
You're in for a nervous hour

The button being so terribly close
It's really a dreadful joke
A bump of my ass as I go past
And we'll all go up in smoke

I am the man, the well fed man
In charge of the terrible knob
The most pleasing thing about it
It's almost a permanent job

When the atom war is over
And the world is split in three
A consolation I've got, well, maybe it's not
There'll be nobody left but me

Now I'm thinking of joining the army
The army that bans the bomb
We'll take up a large collection
And I'll donate my thumb

For without it I am helpless
And that's the way to be
You don't have to kill the whole bloody lot
To make the people free

I am the man, the well fed man
In charge of the terrible knob
The most pleasing thing about it
It's almost a permanent job

When the atom war is over
And the world is split in three
A consolation I've got, well, maybe it's not
There'll be nobody left but me

 

[fox69]

"The Captains And The Kings"

"The Captains And The Kings"



I remember in September when the final stumps were drawn
And the shouts of crowds now silent when the boisterous cheer had gone
Let us O Lord above us remember simple things
When all are dead to love us, Oh, the captains and the Kings
When all are dead to love us, Oh, the captains and the Kings
We have many goods for export Christian ethics and old port
But our greatest boast is that the Anglo-Saxon is a sport
When the dart's game is finished and the boys there game of rings
And the draft and chests were linghuised, Oh, the captains and the Kings
And the draft and chests were linqhuised, Oh, the captains and the Kings
Far away in dear old Cyprus or in Kenya's dusty land
Where all bear the white mans burden in many a strange land
As we looked across our shoulder in West-Belfast the school-bell rings
And we sigh for dear old England, and the captains and the Kings
And we sigh for dear old England, and the captains and the Kings
In our dreams we see old Harrow and we hear the crow's loud caw
At the flower show our big marrow take's the pride from evil and war
Cups of tea and some dry sherry vintage car's, these simple things
So let's drink up and be merry for the captains and the Kings
So let's drink up and be merry for the captains and the Kings
As I wandered in a nightmare all around great Windsor Park
Now what do you think I found there as I wandered in the dark?
'Twas an apple half bitten and sweetest of all things
Five baby teeth had written of the captains and the Kings
Five baby teeth had written of the captains and the Kings
By the moon that shine's above us in the misty mornin' night
Let us cease to run our self down and praise God

 

[fox69]

"The Comical Genius"

"The Comical Genius"



O a comical genius was thinking one day
How he'd jack up his job and receive handy pay
He did not like begging and work was too hard
So he got a bright notion to join up the guard
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day
Well he went up to Dublin, to the depot went in
Got a new suit of blue as bright as new pins
They drilt him, they drilt him, they drilt him so hard
The old sergeant proclaimed him a full fledged guard
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day
He was stationed somewhere near the town of Athy
On the roads of the district he kept a close eye
The girls they admired him as all brassers do
Fell in love with the guard and his new suit of blue
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day
Well the girls they would wink and they'd nod as he passed
O but this itchy guard had his eye on one lass
And this little colleen, she being a die-hard
She made it quite clear that she wanted no guard
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day
Well one time while on duty on a cold winter's night
Sure he caught her out cycling without any light
Where's your light, miss? says he; for an answer says she
It's next to me liver, where you'll never be
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day

 

[fox69]

"The Crack Was Ninety In The Isle Of Man"

"The Crack Was Ninety In The Isle Of Man"



Well weren't we the rare oul' stock
Spent the evenin' gettin' locked
Up in the Ace O' Hearts
Where the high stools were engaging
Over the Butt Bridge, down by the dock,
The boat she sailed at five o'clock.
'Hurry boys, now', said Whack,
'Or before we're there we're all be back.'
Carry him if you can
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man.

Before we reached the Alexander Basin
The ding dong we did surely raise
In the bar of the ship we had great sport
As the boat she sailed out of the port
Landed up in the Douglas Head
Enquired for a vacant bed
The dining room we soon got shown
By a decent woman up the road
'Lads, ate it if you can.'
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man.

That night we went to the Texas Bar,
Came back down by horse and car
Met Big Jim and all went in
To drink some wine in Yale's
The Liverpool Judies it was said
Were all to be found in the Douglas Head.
McShane was there in his suit and shirt.
Them foreign girls he was tryin' to flirt.
Sayin', 'Here, girls, I'm your man.'
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Mann.

Whacker fancied his good looks
On an Isle of Man woman he was struck
And he throwin' the jar into her.
Whacker thought he'd take a chance
He asked the quare one out to dance
Around the floor they stepped it out
And to Whack it was no bother
Everythin' was goin' to plan.
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Mann.

The Isle of Man woman fancied Whack
Your man stood there till his mates came back
Whack! they all whacked into Whack
Whack was landed on his back.
The police force arrived as well,
Banjoed a couple of them as well
Landed up in the Douglas jail
Until the Dublin boat did sail,
Deported every man.
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Mann.

 

[fox69]

"The Croppy Boy"

"The Croppy Boy"



It was early, early all in the Spring
When the birds did whistle and sweetly sing,
Changing their notes all from tree to tree
And the song they sang was: Old Ireland free!

Oh as I went walkin` up Wexford street
Oh me own first cousin I changed to meet
Well me own first cousin did me betray
And for one bare guinnea sold me life away

It was early early all in the night,
When the yeoman cavalry gave me a fright;
Well the yeoman cavalry was my downfall,
And taken was I by Lord Cornwall.

And as I went walking up Wexford Hill,
Now who could blame me to cry me fill?
I looked behind, and I looked before,
And my aged mother I`ll see no more

And when I stood on the scaffold high
My own dear father was standing by
Well me own dear father did me deny
And the name he gave me was the croppy boy

In Dungannon town now this boy died
In Dungannon town does his body lie
So all you strangers that do pass by
Go shed a tear for the croppy boy

 

[fox69]

"The Dublin Fusiliers"

"The Dublin Fusiliers"


Well, you've heard about the Indians with their tommy hawks and spears
And of the U.N. Warriors, the heroes of recent years
Also I might mention the British Grenadiers
Well, none of them were in it but the Dublin Fusiliers

You've heard about the Light Brigade and of the deeds they've done
And of the other regiments that many victories won
But the pride of all the armies, dragoons and Carabiniers
Was that noble band of warriors, the Dublin Fusiliers

[?] face, this is the way we go
Charging with fixed bayonets, the terror of every foe
A glory to old Ireland, as proud as Buccaneers
And a terror to creation are the Dublin Fusiliers

Well, you've heard about the wars between the Russians and the Brits
The Tsar one day was reading an old copy of "Tidbits"
And when the General came to him and threw himself down in tears
"We'd better run back like blazes, here's the Dublin Fusiliers"

The Tsar commenced to tremble and he bit his under lip
"Begorra boys" says he, "I think we'd better take the tip"
The devils come from Dublin and to judge from what I hears
They're demons of militia men, the Dublin Fusiliers

[?] face this is the way we go
Charging with fixed bayonets, the terror of every foe
A glory to old Ireland, as proud as Buccaneers
And a terror to creation are the Dublin Fusiliers

Well, the sergeant cried, "Get ready lads, lay down each sword and gun
Take off your shoes and stockings boys and when I tell yous, run"
They didn't stop but started and amidst three ringing cheers
Came a shower of bricks and bullets from the Dublin Fusiliers

The time that Julius Caesar tried to land down at Ringsend
The coastguards couldn't stop them, so for the Dublin's they did send
And just as they were landing, lads, we heard three ringing cheers
"Get back to Rome like blazes, here's the Dublin Fusiliers"

[?] face this is the way we go
Charging with fixed bayonets, the terror of every foe
A glory to old Ireland, as proud as Buccaneers
And a terror to creation are the Dublin Fusiliers

 

[fox69]

"The Dublin Jack Of All Trades"

"The Dublin Jack Of All Trades"



OhI am a roving sporting blade, theycall me Jack of allTrades
I always place my chief delight incourting pretty fair maids.
So when in Dublin I arrived totry for a situation
Ialwaysheard themsay itwas thepride ofall theNations.

I'm a roving jack of many-a-trades
Of everytrade of alltrades
And if you wish to know my name
Theycall me Jack of alltrades.

On George's Quay I first began and there became a porter
Me and my master soon fell out which cut my acquaintance shorter
In Sackville Street, a pastry cook; In James' Street, a baker
In Cook Street I did coffins make; In Eustace Street, a preacher.

In Baggot street I drove a cab and there was well requited
In Francis Street had lodging beds, to entertain all strangers
For Dublin is of high reknown, or I am much mistaken
In Kevin Street, I do declare, sold butter, eggs and bacon.

In Golden Lane I sold old shoes: In Meath Street was a grinder
In Barrack Street I lost my wife. I'm glad I ne'er could find her.
In Mary's Lane, I've dyed old clothes, of which I've often boasted
In that noted place Exchequer Street, sold mutton ready roasted.

In Temple Bar, I dressed old hats; In Thomas Street, a sawyer
In Pill Lane, I sold the plate, in Green Street, an honest lawyer
In Plunkett Street I sold cast clothes; in Bride's Alley, a broker
In Charles Street I had a shop, sold shovel, tongs and poker.

In College Green a banker was, and in Smithfield, a drover
In Britain Street, a waiter and in George's Street, a glover
On Ormond Quay I sold old books; in King Street, a nailer
In Townsend Street, a carpenter; and in Ringsend, a sailor.

In Cole's Lane, a jobbing butcher; in Dane Street, a tailor
In Moore Street a chandler and on the Coombe, a weaver.
In Church Street, I sold old ropes- on Redmond's Hill a draper
In Mary Street, sold 'bacco pipes- in Bishop street a quaker.

In Peter Street, I was a quack: In Greek street, a grainer
On the Harbour, I did carry sacks; In Werburgh Street, a glazier.
In Mud Island, was a dairy boy, where I became a scooper
In Capel Street, a barber's clerk; In Abbey Street, a cooper.

In Liffey street had furniture with fleas and bugs I sold it
And at the Bank a big placard I often stood to hold it
In New Street I sold hay and straw, and in Spitalfields made bacon
In Fishamble Street was at the grand old trade of basketmaking.

In Summerhill a coachmaker; in Denzille Street a gilder
In Cork Street was a tanner, in Brunswick Street, a builder,
In High Street, I sold hosiery; In Patrick Street sold all blades
So if you wish to know my name, they call me Jack of all Trades.

 

[fox69]

"The Dundee Weaver"

"The Dundee Weaver"



Oh I am a Dundee weaver and I come fray' bonny Dundee
I met a Glasgy' fella and he cam' courting me
He took me oot a'walking dun by the Calvin Ha'
And there the dirty wee rascal sto'
My thingamajig awa'
And there the dirty wee rascal sto'
My thingamajig awa'

He took me oot a'walking dun by the Ruthen glen
He showed to me the bonny wee birds
And he showed me a bonny wee hen
He show to me the bonny wee birds
Fray a linnet tae a craw
And he showed to me the bird that sto'
My thingamajig awa'
He showed to me the bob that sho'
My thingamajig awa'

Noo I'll gan back to Dundee looking bonny neat and fair
I'll put on me buckle and shoe and tie up my bonny broon hair
I'll put on the corset tight to mak' my body look small
And wha' will ken frae me rosy cheeks
That me thingamajigs awa'
And wha' will ken frae me rosy cheeks
That me thingamajigs awa'

O' all you Dundee weavers tak' this advise by me
Never let a fairlay an inch abov' your knee
Never stond' the back of ye' clothes or up again' the wa'
For if you' di' you can safely say
That me thingamajigs awa'
For if you' di' you can safely say
That me thingamajigs awa'

 

[fox69]

"The Foggy Dew"

"The Foggy Dew"



It was down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I.
Their armoured lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by.
No fife did hum nor battle drum did sound it's dread tattoo.
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell
rang out through the foggy dew.

Right proudly high over Dublin Town they hung out the flag of war.
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Sulva or Sud El Bar.
And from the plains of royal Meath strong men came hurrying through.
While Britannia's Huns, with their long range guns sailed in by the foggy dew.

'Twas England bade our Wild Geese go
that small nations might be free.
But their lonely graves are by Silva's waves
or the fringe of the Great North Sea.
Oh, had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Cathal Brugh.
Their names we will keep where the fenians sleep 'neath the shroud of the foggy dew.

But the bravest fell, and the solemn bell
rang mournfully and clear.
For those who died that Eastertide in the springing of the year.
And the world did gaze, in deep amaze, at those stout hearted men, but few.
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
might shine through the foggy dew.

Back to the glen I rode again and my heart with grief was sore.
For I parted with those valiant men whom I never would see no more.
And to and fro in my dreams I will go
And I'd kneel and I'd pray for you,
For slavery fled, O glorious dead,
When you fell in the foggy dew.