Felton Lonnen
Newcastle Lullaby (Lull I)
Blue Bleezin Blind Drunk
I Wish
Blue’s gaen oot o’ the fashion
My Lad’s a Cannie Lad (Lull II)
Blackbird
Minor Place (Lull III)
Sea Song
White Thorn
Can’t Stop it Raining (Lull IV)
My Donald
Ma Bonny Lad
Fareweel Regality
Newcastle Lullaby (Lull V)
Felton Lonnen
trad/Johnny Handle arr. rutw
The kye's come yem but I see not me hinny
The kye's come yem but I see not me bairn
I'd rather loss aal the kye than loss me hinny
I'd rather loss aal the kye than loss me bairn
Fair faced is me hinny, his blue eyes are bonny
His hair in curled ringlets hangs sweet to the side
So mount the auld pony seek after me hinny
Bring back to his mammy her only delight
He's always oot roaming the lang summer day thro'
He's always oot roaming away from the farm
Thro' hedges and ditches and valleys and fellsides
I hope that me hinny will cam to nee harm
Well I've searched in the meadow and in the far acre
Thro' stackyard and byre but nowt could I find
So off ye gan Daddy seek after yer laddie
Bring back tae his Mammy some peace tae her mind
Newcastle Lullaby; Lull
1
trad. arr. rutw
Sleep bonnie barnie behind the castle
Bye, bye, bye, bye
Thou shalt have a golden apple
Bye, bye, bye, bye
Blue Bleezing Blind Drunk
trad/Belle Stewart arr. rutw
Dear friends I have a sad story,
A very sad story to tell,
I married a man for his money,
And he’s worse than the devil himself.
I’ll go and I’ll get blue bleezin blind drunk,
Just to give Micky a warnin,
And just for to spite I might stay out all night,
And come rollin home drunk in the morning.
When Micky comes home in the evening,
He batters me all black and blue,
He knocks me about from the kitchen,
From the bedroom right through to the room.
Of whiskey I ne’er was a lover
But, what can a poor woman do?
Oh I’ll go and I’ll drown all my sorrows
But, I wish I could drown Micky too!
I’ll go and I’ll get blue bleezin blind drunk,
Just to give Micky a warning,
And just for to spite I’ll stay out all night,
And come rolling home drunk in the morning.
Dear friends I have a sad story,
A very sad story to tell,
I married a man for his money,
And he’s worse than the devil himself.
I wish, I wish, but it's all in vain,
I wish I was a maid again;
But a maid again I never can be
Till apples grow on an orange tree.
I wish my baby it was born,
And smiling on his daddies knee,
And I will go to yon churchyard,
And let the long green grass grow over me.
When my apron-strings hung low,
He followed me through frost and snow,
But now my apron's to my chin,
He goes on by and says nothing.
Oh grief, oh grief, I'll tell you why -
That girl has more gold than I;
More gold than I and beauty, more fame,
Yet for her it will be the same .
So, I wish, I wish, but it's all in vain,
I wish I was a maid again;
But a maid again I never can be
Till apples grow on an orange tree.
Blue’s Gaen Oot O’The
Fashion
The Wedding O’ Blythe/When the Tide Comes In/Blue’s Gaen
Oot O’the Fashion/The Lad With the Trousers On/The Sailors Are All
At The Bar (all songs trad. arr. rutw)
O the lousy cutter,
They’ve ta’en my laddie from me,
They pressed him far away foreign,
With Nelson on the salt sea
They always come in the night ,
They never come in the day
They always come in the night,
And steal the laddies away
Til the tide comes in,
Til the tide comes in,
We’ll sit upon the pier,
Til the tide comes in
Blue’s gaen oot o’ the fashion,
Red’s come in with the new;
But I’ll have a sailor laddie,
And die my apron blue
Til the tide comes in,
Til the tide comes in,
We’ll sit upon the pier,
Til the tide comes in
The lad wi’ the trousers on,
He says he will not have me;
The lad wi’ the trousers on,
He says he will not have me.
Up with smoky Shields,
And hey for bonny Newcastle;
Up with smoky Shields,
And hey for bonny Newcastle.
My Lad’s a cannie Lad; Lull
II
trad. arr. rutw
My lad’s a cannie lad, he works doon the pit
He never comes to see us, unless he wants a bit
I asked him would he marry us, you should have seen him wince
I think I’ve lost me cannie lad, I’ve never seen him since.
I know why the blackbird sings
A song so pure that comes from his heart
He sings for his love who won’t come back
He sings because he is sad
He sings because he is glad
He sings because he is free
Free to love somebody else
Now he has abandoned me
I know why my baby cries
She cries for the love she’ll never have
The love that will take her far away
So far she never comes back
Come back, come back, come back
Come back, come back, come back
Come back, come back, come back
We are just a break in the waves
We are just a feather in the storm
Windward or taken by the tide
To places we call home
I know why the blackbird sings
A song so pure that comes from his heart
He sings for his love who won’t come back
He sings because he is sad
Minor Place; Lull III
Will Oldham pub. Royal Stable Music
I’ve been to a minor place,
And I can say I like it’s face,
If I am gone and with no trace,
I will be in my minor place
Sea Song
Robert Wyatt pub. EMI Virgin Music Ltd
You look different every time you come from the foam crested brine
It’s your skin shining softly in the moonlight
Partly fish, partly porpoise, partly baby sperm whale
Am I yours? Are you mine to play with?
But joking apart - when you're drunk you're terrific when you're drunk
I like you mostly late at night you're quite alright
But I can't understand the different you in the morning
When it's time to play at being human for a while please smile!
You'll be different in the spring, I know
You're a seasonal beast like the starfish that drift in with the tide,
with the tide
So until your blood runs to meet the next full moon
You're madness fits in nicely with my own, with my own
Your lunacy fits neatly with my own, my very own
We're not alone
Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.
I carried my love from the spring to the winter,
I carried her ‘til I heard her first cry
I cradled her close against my warm bosom
But, Annie died on the night she was born
Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.
So fertile are we under this dark sky
Barren the fields, raped of their stock
Pregnant the cure for all my ambition
A condition it seems, more often than not
Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.
Each day brings less food to the table
Each passing year with more mouths to feed
Annie was spared the hunger of childhood
Relief like cold water mixed with my grief
Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.
Whitethorn, bring me my children
Whitethorn, to cradle at last
Berries red are the bruises
Whitethorn, the night will turn black
Whitethorn, my children you hold,
Whitethorn, cradle and grave,
Headstone, berries in winter,
Sorrow, your thorns from my blood.
Can’t Stop it Raining; Lull
IV
Richard Scott
Can’t stop it raining
Can’t plug a hole in the sky
Can’t stop it raining it pours
And I don’t know why
Wind blows,
Cloud goes,
Rainbow,
Please show.
Can’t stop it raining
Can’t stop the gloom and the fret
Can’t stop it raining
I’m trying hard to forget
And so,
I know
We grow,
You go.
Can’t stop it raining
My Donald Owen Hands
Owen Hand/arr. rutw
My Donald he works on the sea
On the waves that blow wild and free
He splices the ropes and sets the sails
As southward he rolls to the home of the whale
And he ne'er thinks on me far behind
Nor the torrents that rage in my mind
He's mine for only half part of the year
Then I'm left all alone with nowt but a tear
My Donald he works on the sea
On the waves that blow wild and free
He splices the ropes and sets the sails
As southward he rolls to the home of the whale
You ladies who smell of wild rose
Think ye on your perfume on where a man goes
Think ye on the wives and the bairns left at yem
And a man not returning from hunting the sperm
My Donald he works on the sea
On the waves that blow wild and free
He splices the ropes and sets the sails
While southward he rolls to the home of the whale
Have you seen owt of my bonnie lad
And are you sure he’s weel oh
He’s gone ower land with his stick in his hand
He’s gone to moor the keel oh
Yes, I’ve seen your bonnie lad
Upon the sea I spied him
His grave is green but not with grass
And thoult never lie aside him
Fareweel Regality
Terry Conway pub. Park Records
And now it's time to say farewell
And though I hope that we may meet again
And all things may be reet again
We've lived and spent the day
We'll cry farewell Regality
And cry farewell the Liberty
To honest friends' civility
To winter's frost and fire
And there's nowt that I can bid ye
But that peace and love gan with ye
Never mind wherever call the fates
Away from Hexhamshire
And what is time that flies so fleet
But just a bird that flies on merry wings
And lights us down in happy spring
When winter's neet is past
Aye but the curlew sings her sang
And winds her sorrows doon the Rowley Burn
And drear as winds the hunter's horn
The call is all farewell
And as I set the mossy stones
And do me bits of jobs and gap the dykes
I hear the whisper doon the sykes
Farewell they sigh, farewell
Do I remember? Do I dream?
And did we rightly meet in Viewly Side?
For all this and much more beside
Has got me sore beguiled
But on some golden autumn morn
Or when July is hazing Dipton Slopes
By Whitley Mill or Westburnhope
We'll live and spend the day
Lull V; Newcastle Lullaby
trad. arr. rutw
Sleep bonnie barnie behind the castle
Bye, bye, bye, bye
Thou shalt have a golden apple
Bye, bye, bye, bye
arr. rutw = arranged by Rachel Unthank & The Winterset / Adrian McNally