Mudcat Café message #900977 The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #55151   Message #900977
Posted By: Genie
01-Mar-03 - 06:04 AM
Thread Name: Mudcat CD Rose: Liner Notes PermaThread
Subject: Mudcat CD Rose: Small Print 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) & Friends - 4:52   
5.  Searching For Lambs  (trad.)  -  Peg -  3:35
6.  When You And I Were Young  (Johnson/Butterfield) - Sandy Paton & Friends - 5:18
7.   It's Been Quite A Ride  (Cooke) - McGrath Of Harlow (Kevin McGrath)  -  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 & 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)  -  3:40
19.  The Song (Reprise) (Andrews) -  Harvey Andrews 
 
_____________________________________________________________
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   (W: William Butler Yeats; M: The Maids of Mourneshore

Margaret Vetare - guitar,  vocal; recorded by Bill Ochs in my living room in Sept., 2002.  Thanks to
Jim Keyes for the loan of his guitar.   Listen closely & 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)






_____________________________________________________________
4.   The Grey Funnel Line   (Cyril Tawney, © Gwyneth Music)
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, CA, 9/86.

The Grey Funnel Line is the last song ... 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 2nd 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 &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.  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 ... .

 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 ... .

 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 ... .

 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 &
Arlington, TX in March 2000.   Áine sent me a copy when she was working on it, &... I made a
[few]  minor changes. . .She thought it was a bit  long & cut some verses & I put them back in because
I liked them, [etc.].    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:

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 C. is dorpped neatly into the
background, just references - WWI, Depression, WWII.  A sense of time passing.  
It's a bit like a Frank Capra movie.   -  McGrath of Harlow

             G                        C               D                           Em               D                      C                       Em                         D
The Spring I Was Six, my Mamma took a picture 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.  

    Am                      C                        D                         G
I stuck in that picture, & I left room for more. 

                   C                                         D                          Em                 D                     C                Em                    D
& the spring I was eight, my Daddy took a picture   Of me on my pony, my birthday surprise.
    G                              D                            Am             Em      
     Am                           C            D                  G
I sat up there a-grinning, a real cowboy at last.   &  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
                C                 Am           D                       G
But Time has its way of carrying you onward, &  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, & I have to say, it's been quite a ride.

7 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.

& the year I turned eighty, a friend took a picture  Of me & my sons& their children & 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,& thanking the Lord that I still was alive.
But along with my old house went my 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 & in come the cameras,
Taking my picture for the whole world to see.
And there were two shy young fellas, a-grinning & 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.
_____________________________________________________________
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?
(Cho., then repeat last 2 lines.)
_____________________________________________________________
9.   Engine 33 (The Firefighters of September 11th, 2001)      
(W: Lorcan Otway © 2001; M: "Bold Robert Emmett" -
trad.?) -  
    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 & 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, & 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.  St. Somebody's Song  ( Sue Jordan & Keith Johnson ©2000)
Susan of California (Sue Jordan) - vocals; Keith Johnson - guitar; Dan Riddle - harmonica


This song is based on an old prayer, "The Breastplate of St. Patrick."  We heard it on a short lived
TV show, Nothing Sacred.  I messed around with the main lyrics, Keith messed around with the
echo, & we both came up with the music.  I very much like the son/ sun part.  I also like the
weaving of the two parts, & how we switch back and forth. I hope people like the song!
- Susan (Jordan) from California  (corky@pe.net)


I bind myself today to the virtue of love, in obedience of angels,  
(God's power to guide me)
I bind myself today to the prediction of prophets, the faith of confessors,  
(God's might to uphold me )
I bind myself today to the power of heaven,  (God's wisdom to teach me)
The light of the sun. (God's eye to watch over me)
I bind myself today, to the bright moon, the splendor of fire,  (God's eye to watch over me)
I bind myself today, to the flash of lightning, the swift wind,   (God's ear to hear me)
I bind myself today, to the stable earth,   (God's words to give me speech)
The depth of the sea.

Christ with me and before me.  Christ behind me and within me.
Christ to the right of me, Christ to the left of me.  Christ above me, Christ beneath me.

Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me.  
Christ in the eyes of everyone who sees me.  Christ in the ears of everyone who hears me.

I bind myself today to the virtue of love,  (God's power to lead me)
The light of the son.  (God's wisdom to teach me
_____________________________________________________________
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 3 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
And 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 
And 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 5 hapless young men, unjustly accused,  Were convicted of treason & 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 the19th of May. / My friends & my brother have been dead these 2 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 widows'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, & there I will lie,   Remembering the young men who loved me & died.
As I go to my death, I resolve to be brave   /  & 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, & I woke up at 4 AM to scribble the jist of it in the dark."  - LEJ

lyrics:

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

I first heard this trad. 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 & some fascinating information
on Mudcat.  When I sing it nowI use 'Lang hast  thou lane alane' for the second line of the chorus.-Willa

Lang hae we 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 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; 
Mike White - Mapex drum kit; 
James Flynn - Ovation Accoustic Bass, harmony vocal;  Joseph Davoli Jr. - Violins;  William Delaney -
Guitar (Ovation Accoustic),  harmony vocals;  Ron Keck - Producer, Director, & Studio Ace.

A lament of sorts for a best friend gone before his time--At least 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 /  & the small boats that fished the cold western seas
 And the beer & 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, /&  I thanked him for sharing his photos with me.

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

 Chorus twice
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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!  
And I will luve thee still, my dear, while the sands of life shall run.

& fare the weel, my only luve!  & fare the well awhile!
And I will come again, my love, Tho' it were ten thousand mile!
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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.

 I think I hear that damn dog barking.   /  Sounds so near to be out of sight.
 Over the creek, and across the valley   / &n