Mudcat Café message #855771 The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #55151   Message #855771
Posted By: Genie
31-Dec-02 - 12:37 AM
Thread Name: Mudcat CD Rose: Liner Notes PermaThread
Subject: Mudcat CD Rose: Printable liner notes
Mudcat CD Rose

Index:

1.  Nazareth Pilgrim Blues  (Kaye) - JustaPicker (Michael Kaye) - 5:39
   2.  Down By The Salley Gardens  (Yeats) - Margaret V (Margaret Vetare) - 2:40
   3.  Fill One Room  (McCormack) -  Midchuck, Mrs. Midchuck (Woodchuck's Revenge) - 3:25
   4.  Gray Funnel Line  (Tawney)  - Radriano (Richard Adrianowicz) and Friends - 4:52    Published by Gwyneth Music
   5.  Searching for Lambs (trad.) - Peg - 3:35
   6.  When You And I Were Young  (Johnson/Butterfield) - Sandy Paton And Friends - 5:18
   7.  It's Been Quite A Ride  (Cooke) - McGrath Of Harlow (Kevin McGrath) http://members/lycos.co.uk/mfinger- 6:18
   8.  This One's The Dreamer  (Hacking) - Rick Fielding - 3:10
   9.  Engine 33  (Otway) - InOBU (Sorcha Dorcha) - 5:16
  10.  Firelight (Moorhouse) - alanabit - 4:07
  11.  Saint Somebody's Song  (Jorday/Johnson) - Susan from California and Keith - 2:45
  12.  Palace Grand  (trad.)  - Kendall Morse - 2:37
  13.  There I Must Lie  (Couch) -  Deni - 5:17
  14.  Rainbow  (Johnson) - Lonesome EJ - 4:07
  15.  Laddie Lie Near Me (trad.) - Willa - 4:02
  16.  Photographs (Meixner) - Don Meixner (The Flying Column) - 5:47
  17.  My Love Is Like a Red, Red Rose  (Burns) -  Seamus Kennedy - 3:05
  18.  Spring On The Mississippi  (Cameron) - Willie-O (Bill Cameron) www.mp3.com/BillCameron - 3:40
  19.  The Song (Reprise) (Andrews) -  Harvey Andrews  www.harveyandrews.com ________________________________________________________________________________________________
1.  Nazareth Pilgrim Blues  Original composition, played [guitar], produced & arranged by moi [Michael Kaye]. 
(Inspired by a gathering I was to attend this past summer in Nazareth, PA, to visit the Martin Guitar factory
& meet up with other Martin affectionados [sic].   At the last minute, my trip had to be cancelled for business reasons...
so I wrote the tune to console myself.)   Includes some very tasty mandolin and dobro courtesy of Brother [Rick] Fielding.
  - JustaPicker

________________________________________________________________________________________________
2.  Down By The Salley Gardens    (Words: William Butler Yeats; tune: The Maids of Mourneshore
Margaret Vetare - guitar and vocal (Recorded by Bill Ochs in my living room in September, 2002.   Thanks to Jim Keyes
 for the loan of his guitar.   Listen closely and you will be rewarded by September crickets.)

 
Lots of people find this song corny or too much in the "parlor song" idiom for their liking.   For me it communicates a deep
sense of loss and regret, and conjures up clear visual images.  I don't know how I learned it, which adds a bit of mystery.
 - Margaret

 Down by the salley gardens, my love and I did meet.
 She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet.
 She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;
 But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.

 In a field by the river, my love and I did stand
 And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.
 She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
 But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

________________________________________________________________________________________________
3.   Fill One Room   (McCormack)
Midchuck, Mrs. Midchuck (Woodchuck's Revenge)





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4.   The Grey Funnel Line   (Cyril Tawney, © Gwyneth Music)

Artists:Radiano, with "Out Of The Rain" (Suzanne Friend - lead vocal; Marla Fibish - harmony vocal;
Radiano (Richard Adrianowicz) - harmony vocal)

Recorded live in concert at the Musician's Coffeehouse, Walnut Creek, California, September 1986.

The Grey Funnel Line is the last song Cyril Tawney wrote before leaving the Royal Navy in 1959.   You can
feel that suspended feeling of waves &
the rocking of the sea in the melody.  "The Grey Funnel Line" is the
sailor's nickname for the Royal Navy.   The song is about a sailor leaving home & his loved one.   He's fed up
with the Senior Service & he'd rather be outside, but he has to go away yet again.  Cyril got the idea for the
chorus from a shanty with the refrain "rock & roll me over for one more day."   A short negro lament called
Dink's Song, which Cyril found in a book of American folk songs collected by the Lomaxes, provided some of
the inspiration for verse two.   "The likes of me" in the second verse refers to a young man who had discovered
too late that he had other gifts that were of little use in Her Majesty's fleet.   A "walkashore" (Verse 6) refers to
a method of passing from ship to shore and back again without the need of a boat, even though the ship isn't
alongside.   It's usually a series of pontoons, & it's generally only used if the ship in question is at a fairly
permanent berth.   The only walkashore Cyril remembers using was from the submarine depot ship 'Forth' in
Malta.  Cyril Tawney joined the Royal Navy as a 16 year-old & served in a variety of craft, but mainly submarines. 
His role as a folk-singer evolved out of his activities as a scriptwriter & performer in Naval entertainments.  He
came to the attention of the BBC in 1957 & soon had his own fully networked television program.   It was around
this time that he decided to buy himself out of the Service & become a full-time singer.   Apart from his own
compositions, Cyril has specialized for the most part in English folk song, mainly South-Western & Maritime,
& he played an important part in establishing the Folk revival in Devon and Cornwall.

 Don't mind the rain or the rolling sea. /  The weary night never worries me,
 But the hardest time in a sailor's day  /  Is to watch the sun as it dies away.
 It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

 The finest ship that sailed the sea /  Is still a prison for the likes of me,
 But give me wings like Noah's dove,  /  I'd fly up harbor to the girl I love.
 It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

 There was a time my heart was free  /  Like a floating spar on the open sea,
 But now the spar is washed ashore.  /  It comes to rest at my real love's door.
 It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

 Each time I gaze behind the screws  /  It makes me long for St. Peter's shoons.
 I'll walk on down that silver lane  /  And take my love in my arms again.
 It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

 Oh, Lord, if dreams were only real,  /  I'd have my hands on that wooden wheel,
 And with all my heart I'd turn her round  / And tell the boys that we're homeward bound.
 It's one more day on the Grey Funnel Line.

 I'll pass the time like some machine  /  Until blue water turns to green,
 Then I'll dance on down that walkashore  /  And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more.
 And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more.

____________________________________________________________________________________
5.   Searching for Lambs   (trad.; from the singing of Maddy Prior)
      Peg (Peg Aloi) - vocals; Gregor Harvey - guitar

lyrics:

____________________________________________________________________________________
6.   When You And I Were Young, Maggie   (W: George W. Johnson & M: James Austin Butterfield, ca. 1868)
      Sandy Paton & friends - vocals, instrumentals??

I wandered to-day to the hill, Maggie,  /  To watch the scene below;
The creek and the creaking old mill, Maggie,  /  As we used to long ago.
The green grove is gone from the hill, Maggie,  /  Where first the daisies sprung;
The creaking old mill is still, Maggie,  /  Since you and I were young.

Chorus:
And now we are aged and grey, Maggie,
And the trials of life nearly done;
Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie,
When you and I were young.
A city so silent and lone, Maggie, / Where the young and the gay and the best,
In polished white mansions of stone, Maggie, / Have each found a place of rest,
Is built where the birds used to play, Maggie, / And join in the songs that were sung;
For we sang as gay as they, Maggie, /  When you and I were young.

They say I am feeble with age, Maggie,  /  My steps are less spritely than then.
My face is a well written page, Maggie, /  But time alone was the pen.
They say we are aged and grey, Maggie, /  As spray by the white breakers flung,
But to me you're as fair as you were, Maggie,  /  When you and I were young.
____________________________________________________________________________________

7.  It's Been Quite A Ride   ("The Spring I was Six" or "The Tornado Song)  W & M: Áine (Anne Cooke).
    McGrath of Harlow (Kevin McGrath)  -  guitar, vocals

This is based on a true story that happened during the tornado that moved through Fort Worth and Arlington,
Texas in March 2000.   Áine sent me a copy when she was working on it, & I made a couple of suggestions;
& then when she sent me a sound file of it I made a couple more minor changes - she thought it was a bit
long & cut some verses & I put them back in because I liked them, & that kind of thing.    And I made it the
Daddy back from the Great War in verse one, instead of an Uncle, because I thought that balanced the story
better, even if it might not have been the way it happened exactly.   Anyway, this is how I sing it on Rose.  
Except that ... I have the girlfriend wearing "white chiffon"... and that was a mistake as I sang it, & I meant blue.
So here http://members.lycos.co.uk/mfinger/snglsts/blue/blue8.htm#is a link to it on my website:

         G                 C           D                    Em
The Spring I Was Six, my Mamma took a picture
      D                C                 Em                 D
Of me and my Daddy, just home from the war.
    G               D                      Am              

Em
I took all my pennies, and I bought a Red Scrapbook.
     a                 C                  D                   G
I stuck in that picture, and I left room for more.
               C                                  D                   Em
And the spring I was eight, my Daddy took a picture
      D              C             Em              D
Of me on my pony, my birthday surprise.
   G                    D                     Am          Em
I sat up there a-grinning, a real cowboy at last.
        Am                   C         D            G
And you could just see the joy in my eyes.
     C              Em                        F                C
I'd sit and I'd look through my pretty Red Scrapbook,
         Am              Em                   F             D
With all of those sweet precious mem'ries inside.
         G                D       Am               Em
But Time has its way of carrying you onward,
      C                           Am          D  G
And I have to say, it's been quite a ride.

And the spring I was sixteen, my Mamma took the picture
Of me and my Kathy, at the graduation dance.
My hair was all slicked back, her dress was blue chiffon,
And I knew we'd get married, if she gave me the chance.
And the spring I was Twenty, a man took that picture
Of me and my Kathy, my sweet brand-new bride.
Sure we had no money, and the times they were hard then -
But we had each other, our love and our pride.

And the year I turned thirty my wife she took a picture
Of me in a uniform -- to the war I was bound.
But safe in my pocket was a picture of my Kathy
And the two boys she'd be raising, with me not around.
(I knew) she'd sit and she'd look through that pretty Red Scrapbook,
With all of those sweet precious memories inside,
But Time has its way of carrying you onward,
And I have to say, it's been quite a ride.

And the year I turned sixty my son took a picture
As I laid yellow roses on the grave of my wife.
We'd shared all the joys that this old world can give us,
And now she was gone --  and so was part of my life.

And the year I turned eighty, a friend took a picture
Of me and my sons and their children and wives.
And they threw a big party, with a cake with eighty candles,
And I thanked them for being a part of my life.
And this spring I was nearing my ninetieth birthday,
And I looked out a window -- there's one more surprise.
The sky had turned green, there was a big wind a-blowing,
And it carried my house off, in front of my eyes.
Well, I sat in the hospital, counting my stitches,
And thanking the Lord that I still was alive.
But along with my old house went mt pretty Red Scrapbook,
With all of those sweet precious mem'ries inside.

Well, there's sorrows and there's joys in this life we are given,
But just now and then, you know, things turn out right.
When a lady from TV said she wanted to see me,
I thanked her and said "I don't feel like dancing tonight."
But then the door opened and in come the cameras,
Taking my picture for the whole world to see.
And there were two shy young fellas, a-grinning and a-laughing--
And they handed my scrapbook of pictures to me.
And I sat and I looked through that pretty Red Scrapbook,
With all of those sweet precious memories inside.
Time has its way of carrying you onward -
Well, I have to say, it's been quite a ride.

-------------------------------------------------
And here's what I wrote about it on my website:
"This is a song by Aine Cooke who lives in Texas, & I know her though the Mudcat.   She sent me the
sound file of her singing it that included here, along with my version.   I changed a few lines, but she
said that was all right.   The words here are more or less the way I sing it.


It's based on something that really happened out in Texas.  But when I sang it the first time in the Half
Moon in Bishops Stortford someone said "Is that about that old boy in Sawbridgeworth?"  
So maybe something like this happened near here too.

One thing I really like about ths one is the way the history of the 20th Century is dorpped neatly into the
background, just references - First World War, Depression, Second World War.  A sense of time passing.
It's a bit like a Frank Capra movie.
____________________________________________________________________________________
8.   This One's the Dreamer  - © Norm Hacking, words & music (SOCAN)
Rick Fielding - vocals, guitar

Rick's version has some minor differences from the original 
   http://www.angelfire.com/folk/normhacking/l_thisonesdreamer.html

This one's the dreamer; this one's looking for the heart of the matter;
This one's a lonesome traveller long ways from home,
Who listens to the different drummin', sometimes to a wind that's hummin'
In the pines... tho' the trees are still --  Can you hear it?

This one's the immigrant drawin' a map from the lines on his face
With a pen that's dipped in whiskey, blood, sweat from his brow,
Who sits at the supper table, whisperin' grace while he is able,
Sleepin' while the thunder howls --  Can you hear it?

Chorus:
     The wider your rivers, I will cross them.  /  The longer your highways, I will ride.
     The further off your mountains,  /  I will be there to climb them,
     The clearer the view, the more I see, the more I love you.

This song's a coal dust voice, the lumberjack's laugh that topples the forest,
Saw & fiddle & a banjo chorus, long time gone,
Join in the native dancin', celebrate the harvest & sweet romancin',
Love the land, sing praise --  Can you hear it?

Chorus

This one's the Canadian.  This one's young & free & raw & reckless,
Like a wild stallion, starin' across the plain,
Hearing the midnight whistle,
Clackety-clack of the wheels on the trestle  -- Can you hear it?

Chorus, then repeat last 2 lines.

____________________________________________________________________________________

9.  Engine 33  (The Firefighters of September 11th, 2001) 
(Words: Lorcan Otway © 2001; Tune: "Bold Robert Emmett" - trad.?) -   -5:16
InObu (Lorcan Otway), with "Sorcha Dorcha"

"I wrote this about a week after Sept. 11.   A fiddler (Artie) & I went over to the firehouse to play a few tunes
to lighten up the evening, as the fellows were sitting in an empty firehouse, both trucks being damaged when
the towers fell, killing a quarter of their comrades.   In the time since then, I have kept up with the men &
women of this company, & watched how they continue to serve in spite of the pain, in a way that is epic & heroic. 
So this song is about this company, Engine 33, Ladder 9, but also about fire fighters everywhere who are a
special kind of people.   I hope no one on this planet ever takes them for granted." -- Larry (InObu)

Flashing lights & no sirens, all emergencies over,  /  The motorcade passes, with the heroes who fell,
And all on the streets stop, & in silence bear witness.  /  Such sorrow and thanks no mere words can tell

Who e'er can forget those grey ash-covered engines  /  Coming back from the alarm like no other before?
Such pain for survivors, to embrace all the families  /  Of comrades so loved, now on that distant shore!

Chief Downey, Father Mike, First Deputy Feehan,  /  Peter Ganci & many, too many to tell,
Your memories we'll honor, we ne'er will forget you.  /  You brought hope to the horror when the two towers fell.

Remember Tim Stackpole, how he prayed in the wreckage  /  In that terrible fire that took two of his friends.
So horribly injured, he fought to recover,  /  To return to his ladder & to die with his men.

So, now to acknowledge just one of the many  -- Engine 33, Ladder Company 9.
There's ten empty places to set 'round their table,  /  Ten fallen brothers who fell on the line.

Remember Ken Pfeifer(sp?), Mike Boyle & Keith Maynard,  /  Jeff Walz, Brian Bilcher, Robert King, Dave Arce,
Gerard Baptiste, Robert Evans, John Tierney -- /   10 lost out of 40 in one company.

And though we mourn them, they're still on the job now.   /  Though they have fallen, they're still standing tall.
Their spirit will bolster their sisters & brothers.  /  Their presence unseen (?) will still answer each call.

So tell all your children to tell all their children,  /  "Never pass a firehouse without a brief pause,
And thank all the heroes who work on those engines.  Each day they risk all in humanity's cause."

(Repeat first verse.)

____________________________________________________________________________________
10.   Firelight   (W  & M: Alan Moorhouse © 2000)
Alanabit (Alan Moorhouse) - vocals, guitar; Markus Apitius (producer) - other instrumentals 
(From the CD "Small Voice Crying" - Schubert Records)

[I have] been a busker and entertainer in Europe for over twenty years.
"Firelight" ... is a simple love/lust song about meeting a former lover and wanting to turn the clock back. - Alanabit

 I want to sing a love song to cut right through the gloom.
 I want to sing it so long, 'til we're alone here in this room.
 I want to make connection  and float it through the air,
 Reach out in all directions and look around and only see you there.
 I want to sing for you.

 I want to sing a love song to tell you why I'm here,
 But I seem to get the words wrong,  and my head is fogged with beer.
 To catch your eye and linger, but I can hardly stand
 To brush against your finger and tremble at the touch of your hand.
 I want to sing for you.

 I want to sing a love song, but time is slipping fast.
 It seems so right to be wrong, to slip back to the past.
 I want to feel the fire of love that we have made,
 And I will never tire to sit by you and watch the embers fade.
 I want to sing for you.
___________________________________________________________________________________
11.  Saint Somebody's Song   (Jorday/Johnson) - 2:45

       Susan from California & Keith

 

____________________________________________________________________________________
12.   Palace Grand   (trad.) - 2:37

       Kendall Morse - vocals, instrumentals ??

lyrics:


____________________________________________________________________________________
13.  There I Must Lie  (Deni Couch ©2000)
      Deni Couch - vocal & treble recorder; Ned Couch - National Steel resonator guitar

Was Anne Boleyn, second wife of Henry VIII of England, a witch & adultress or a victim of court
intrigue?  After just three years of marriage, during which time she gave birth to the future Queen
Elizabeth I, she was convicted of high treason & beheaded in May 1536.   King Henry was betrothed
to Jane Seymour the day after his wife's execution.

More info on   www.mp3.com/Mad_Rush
www.madrushfolk.co.uk (site currently being updated)

email: madrushfolk@btopenworld.com

When I was a young girl, I lived overseas,  / All by the advice that my father gave me.
The heir to Northumberland asked for my hand, / But his promises slipped through my fingers like sand.

Then the king of all England paid court in his place / & showered gifts on me of jewels and brocades.
My brother did warn me, I'd made a mistake  / When the king cast his own queen aside for my sake.

He said, 'You've made your bed, and there you must lie, / No matter how many young men catch your eye.
Tho' their glances devour you, you mustn't be swayed / & always stay true to the choice that you made.

A child grew within me; the king he was glad. / A fine son he wanted, more than all that he had,
But a daughter I bore him, and I could soon see / That the heat of my king's love had grown cold to me.

The rumours soon started; they said the young queen  /  Consorting with gentlemen, she had been seen,
That my court musician, a gentle lad he,  /  And even my brother, my lovers did be.

But I've made my bed, and there I must lie  /  While they say there were many more men caught my eye.
Tho' their glances devoured me, I never was swayed,  /  And always stayed true to the choice that I made.

The five hapless young men, unjustly accused,  /  Were convicted of treason and sentenced to die.
My own uncle Thomas -- how well I loved he! -- /  Presided o'er the judges who then condemned me.

My date of execution is the nineteenth of May. / My friends and my brother have been dead these two days,
Beheaded, or hanged on the high gallows tree,  /  While the court plans to welcome the king's new lady.

But I've made my bed, and there I must lie  /  While they say there were many more men caught my eye.
Tho' their glances devoured me, I never was swayed,   /  And always stayed true to the choice that I made.

I'll never be old, nor wear widow's gowns.  /  I will not see my daughter grow to a fine queen.
The sun in the morning will rise without me;   /  It will set on my grave on the day I'm buried.

For I've made my bed, and there I will lie,  /  Remembering the young men who loved me and died.
As I go to my death, I resolve to be brave   /  And I'll remain true to the choice that I made.
____________________________________________________________________________________
14.   Rainbow     (Johnson © ??)
Lonesome EJ  - vocals, instruments?

"Rainbow is a sort of lullaby for the Peace and Love Generation.  It came to me nearly complete in a dream,
and I woke up at 4 AM to scribble the jist of i
t in the dark."  - LEJ

lyrics:
 

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15.   Laddie, Lie Near Me   (trad.)   - 4:02
Willa - vocal

I first heard this traditional song at a Folkworks weekend in Darlington,UK, in 2001. Our tutor, Alyth McCormack, taught it to us. ... Since then, I've found more versions and some fascinating information on Mudcat. When I sing it now I use 'Lang hast thou lane alane' for the second line of the chorus. - Willa

Lang hae we parted (perted) been. laddie ma dearie,
Noo we are met again; laddie lie near me.

CHORUS:
Near me, near me, laddie lie near me.
Lang hast thou lain, aye lain. Laddie lie near me.

All that I hae endured, laddie ma dearie,
Here in thy arms is cured; laddie lie near me.

Say that you'll aye be true, laddie ma dearie,
I will love nane but you; laddie lie near me.
If in love's br (bower) we meet, laddie ma dearie,
My joy will be complete; laddie lie near me.

____________________________________________________________________________________
16.   Photographs       words & music: Donald R. Meixner © 2001 (dmeixner@twcny.rr.com)
From The Flyin' Column CD "Finally"  Recorded & mixed at SubCat Studio in Skaneateles, NY. Winter 2001
Don Meixner -  Guitar (Guild F-30),  lead vocal;  James Flynn - Ovation Accoustic Bass, harmony vocal; 
William Delaney - Guitar (Ovation Accoustic), harmony vocals;  Mike White - Mapex drum kit; 
Joseph Davoli Jr. - Violins;  Ron Keck - Producer, Director, and Studio Ace.

A lament of sorts for a best friend gone before his time.  At least gone before I was willing to let him go. - Don M.

 
               G                  D                            G          C
He was home to New York from the west coast of Ireland,
              G                Em                                      C->D
 And he took out his photos and showed them to me,
               G                 D                      G                  Em
 And he talked of the road 'round the bright ring of Kerry,
                G               Em                D               G
 And the miles from Dingle to the town of Tralee.

 Chorus:
          C                  D                    G                  Em
      Walk with me now round the bright ring of Kerry,
          C                 D              G                C->D
      Watch the sun set in the cold western sea
                        G              D                G                 Em
      And we'll talk of the sand and the sea and the mountains
                     G              Em                D               G
      And the miles from Dingle to the town of Tralee

 We talked of the old ways that soon would be passing
 And the small boats that fished the cold western seas
 And the beer and the ale and the dancers competing.
 Then we sang rebel songs in his kitchen till three

 He told me the fighting was quite far from Kerry,
 But it shown in the faces of the people you'd see,
 And he knew that the land, like the Lord, was forgiving,
 And I thanked him for sharing his photos with me.

 When he died in the night, he was dreaming of Ireland
 And the beauty in the places and the people he'd see.
 Now his children go back once a year (home) to Ireland,
 And they bring back their photos and share them with me.

 Chorus twice
____________________________________________________________________________________

17.   My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose    (Robert Burns) - 3:05
     Seamus Kennedy - vocals, instrument ?

0, my luve is like a red, red rose that's newly sprung in June.
0, my love is like a melodie that's sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair thou art, my bonnie lass, so deep in luve am I,
And I will luve thee still, my dear, till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, & the rocks melt wi' the sun!
& I will luve thee still, my dear, while the sands of life shall run.

And fare the weel, my only luve!  And fare the well awhile!
And I will come again, my love, Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
____________________________________________________________________________________
18.   Spring On The Mississippi  -  (W & M: Bill Cameron ©1994 )
Bill Cameron (bcameron@superaje.com)  - vocal, guitar;  Richard Bova - Dobro:
MP3 or CD ("Always Time For Anachronism")  available from: www.mp3.com/BillCameron

I live near the Mississippi River in Eastern Ontario, a tributary of the Ottawa River.   Used to have a
barky dog.   Now I have another even more barky dog.  In the cold depths of winter you wonder why the
hell you're here, but in mid-March the sap runs & everyone wakes up & gets busy making maple syrup &
generally things get happy.   I start looking for a chance to put a canoe or kayak in the water, & long ago
discovered that you can go paddling in the Mississippi River directly downstream from where the brave &
foolhardy are still ice-fishing on Dalhousie Lake.   But you want to pull out well above Sheridan's Rapids.  
- Bill C.

 My key: D

 I think I hear that damn dog barking.   /  Sounds so near to be out of sight.
 Over the creek, and across the valley   /  He was howling half of last night.

 I used to live in a big old city.   /  It had its charms, but the times got tight.
 Now I live near the Mississippi,  /  Where I don't mind a little noise at night.

 'Cause spring on the Mississippi seems to come a little bit sooner here.
 The ice on the lakes is softening up but the Mississippi River runs clear
 Down to Sheridan's Rapids, now that spring is here.

 Now I've heard there's another Mississippi  /  Flows to a town called New Orleans.
 The people there throw a hell of a party.  /  Late in the winter when the weather up here is mean.

 One of these days I'm gonna see that city,  /  Learn a Cajun waltz called the "Jolie Blon',"
 But when the weather turns warm, and the sap is running,  /  You'll find me back in my northern home.

 'Cause spring on the Mississippi... .
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19.   The Song (Reprise) (Andrews) -  Harvey Andrews  www.harveyandrews.com  


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