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folk-music.jpg

Go for it!
Life is for living!
 

 

What Is Folk Music?. 1

Where Did Folk Music Come From?. 1

1. Battle Hymn of the Republic. 1

2. Billy Boy (American Version) 1

3. Blow the Man Down. 2

4. Buffalo Gals. 2

5. Clementine. 3

6. Dixie. 3

7. Drunken Sailor. 4

8. Grandfather's Clock. 4

9. I've Been Working on the Railroad. 5

10. John Brown's Body. 5

11. Lavender's Blue. 5

12. My Wild Irish Rose. 6

13. Soldier, Soldier, Will You Marry Me?. 6

14. Red River Valley. 7

15. Shenandoah. 7

16. Streets of Laredo. 7

17. Sweet Betsey From Pike. 8

18. The Cruel War Version 1. 9

19. The Cruel War Version 2. 9

20. The Foggy, Foggy Dew.. 9

21. The Yellow Rose of Texas. 10

22. Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ral - That's An Irish Lullaby. 10

23. Turkey In the Straw.. 10

24. When Irish Eyes Are Smiling. 11

25. Yankee Doodle. 11

 

 

Folk Music is stories put to music. Itąs that simple really, although some people try to make it more complicated than that. There are those who think that all country music is folk music, or that pop music can't be folk. Neither of these groups are right, and a little knowledge about the history of folk music will show you why.

 

 

 

Centuries ago, unless you were a priest, an aristocrat, or perhaps a wealthy merchant, you probably couldnąt read or write. Unless you fit into one of these three groups, there was nothing for you to read anyway, as there were no newspapers. And books, which were all copied and made by hand, could only be afforded by the very wealthy.

However, the common people wanted to make sure that their family trees, local history, stories of great battles, and other important events didnąt just fade away with the memories of those who experienced them.

So, groups of people (tribes, villages, families, etc.) would appoint someone to memorize all of their important facts, stories and events. These appointed people often had titles like Bard, Shaman or Elder. These people were held in high regard in their community. Part of their job was to constantly recite their knowledge to the people in the form of stories, to educate them in their own heritage. Often this was the only schooling that the villagers had.

As time went on, some of these Bards would travel around the countryside telling their stories. When they added simple musical accompaniment to their stories, they were sometimes referred to as Minstrels or Troubadours.

These Minstrels and Troubadours were always popular, not only because they provided entertainment to the villages that they visited, but also because they made up songs about the news and events that they learned about in their travels around the country. In effect, they were walking, singing "newspapers." For many villagers, this was their only contact with the outside world. In later years, these songs became known as "folk music" because they told stories about "folks" -- like you and me. From these simple beginnings, it then grew extremely popular in the courts of the aristocracy around the world.

Even opera is a sophisticated form of folk music, because it begins with a simple musical tale, to which is added orchestration, theatrical sets and costumes.

 

 

 

Mine eyes have seen the glory
Of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage
Where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning
Of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.

Chorus:          

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!

Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch fires
Of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar
In the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence
By the dim and flaring lamps;
His day is marching on.

I have read a fiery gospel writ
In burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with My condemners,
So with you My grace shall deal":
Let the Hero born of woman
Crush the serpent with His heel,
Since God is marching on.

 

He has sounded forth the trumpet
That shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men
Before His judgment seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him;
Be jubilant, my feet;
Our God is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies
Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom
That transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy,
Let us die to make men free;
While God is marching on.

 

 

Oh where have you been, Billy Boy,
Billy Boy?
Oh where have you been, charming Billy?
I have been to seek a wife,
She's the joy of my life,
She's a young thing
And cannot leave her mother.

Did she bid you to come in, Billy Boy,
Billy Boy?
Did she bid you to come in, tell me Billy?
Yes, she bade me to come in,
There's a dimple in her chin.
She's a young thing
And cannot leave her mother.

Did she set you a chair, Billy Boy?
Billy Boy?
Did she set you a chair, tell me Billy.
Yes, she set for me a chair,
She has ringlets in her hair,
She's a young thing
And cannot leave her mother.

Can she bake cherry pie, Billy Boy,
Billy Boy?
Can she bake cherry pie, tell me Billy.
She can bake a cherry pie,
There's a twinkle in her eye.
She's a young thing
And cannot leave her mother.

 

 

Come all ye young fellows that follow the sea,
T
o my way haye, blow the man down,
And pray pay attention and listen to me,
Give me some time to blow the man down.

I'm a deep water sailor just in from Hong Kong,
T
o my way haye, blow the man down,
if you'll give me some grog, I'll sing you a song,
Give me some time to blow the man down.

'Twas on a Black Baller I first served my time,
T
o my way haye, blow the man down,
And on that Black Baller I wasted my prime,
Give me some time to blow the man down.

'Tis when a Black Baller's preparing for sea
T
o my way haye, blow the man down,
You'd split your sides laughing at the sights that you see.
Give me some time to blow the man down.

With the tinkers and tailors and soldiers and all
T
o my way haye, blow the man down,
That ship for prime seaman on board a Black Ball.
Give me some time to blow the man down.

'Tis when a Black Baller is clear of the land,
T
o my way haye, blow the man down,
Our Boatswain then gives us the word of command
Give me some time to blow the man down.

"Lay aft," is the cry,” to the break of the Poop!
T
o my way haye, blow the man down,
Or I'll help you along with the toe of my boot!"
Give me some time to blow the man down.

'Tis larboard and starboard on the deck you will sprawl,
T
o my way haye, blow the man down,
For "Kicking Jack" Williams commands the Black Ball.
Give me some time to blow the man down.

Pay attention to order, now you one and all,
T
o my way haye, blow the man down,
For right there above you flies the Black Ball.
Give me some time to blow the man down.

 

 

As I was walking down the street
Down the street, down the street,
A pretty gal I chance to meet
Under the silvery moon.


Chorus:          

Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight?
Come out tonight, Come out tonight?

Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight,
And dance by the light of the moon.


I asked her if she'd stop and talk,
Stop and talk, Stop and talk,
Her feet covered up the whole sidewalk,
She was fair to view.


I asked her if she'd be my wife,
Be my wife, be my wife
Then I'd be happy all my life,
If she'd marry me.

 

 

In a cavern, in a canyon,
Excavating for a mine
Dwelt a miner forty niner,
And his daughter Clementine

Chorus:          

Oh my darling, oh my darling,
Oh my darling, Clementine!

Thou art lost and gone forever
Dreadful sorry, Clementine

Light she was and like a fairy,
And her shoes were number nine,
Herring boxes, without topses,
Sandals were for Clementine.

Drove she ducklings to the water
Ev'ry morning just at nine,
Hit her foot against a splinter,
Fell into the foaming brine.

Ruby lips above the water,
Blowing bubbles, soft and fine,
But, alas, I was no swimmer,
So I lost my Clementine.

How I missed her! How I missed her,
How I missed my Clementine,
But I kissed her little sister,
I forgot my Clementine.

 

 

I wish I was in the land of Cotton
Old times there are not forgotten
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land

In Dixie Land where I was born in
early on one frosty morning'
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land

Chorus
:          

Then I wish I was in Dixie

Hooray! Hooray! 
In Dixie Land

I'll take my stand
To live and die in Dixie
Away! Away! Away! 
Down South in Dixie.
Away! Away! Away! 
Down South in Dixie.


Ole Missus marry "will the weaver"
Willum was a gay deceiver
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
But when he put his arm around er,
He smiled fierce as a forty pounder,
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land

His face was sharp as a butcher's cleaver
But that did not seem to grieve 'er
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
Ole Missus acted the foolish part
And died for a man that broke her heart
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land

Now here's a health to the next ole Missus
An' all the gals that want to kiss us;
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
But if you want to drive 'way sorrow
Come and hear this song tomorrow
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land

There's buckwheat cakes and Injun batter,
Makes you fat or a little fatter;
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land
Then hoe it down and scratch your gravel,
To Dixie's Land I'm bound to travel,
Look away! Look away! Look away!
Dixie Land

 

 

Chorus:        

Way, hay up she rises,
Way, hay, up she rises,

Way, hay, up she rises,
Earlye in the morning!

What will we do with the drunken sailor?
What will we do with the drunken sailor?
What will we do with the drunken sailor?
Earlye in the morning?

Put him in the scuppers with the hose pipe on him

Hoist him aboard with a running bowline

Put him in the brig until he's sober.

Make him turn to at shining bright work.

Put him in a boat and row him over

Hoist him up to the topsail yardarm

Make him clean out all the spit-kids

That's what you do with a drunken sailor

 

 

My grandfather's clock was to large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride.
But it stopp'd short, Never to go again,
When the old man died..

Chorus:
                                                                                                          Ninety years without slumbering
Tick, tock, tick, tock                                                                                           
His life seconds numbering,
Tick, tock, tick, tock
It stopp'd short, Never to go again
When the old man died.

In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know,
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride.
But it stopp'd short, Never to go again,
When the old man died..

My grandfather said, that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found:
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire,
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place, not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopp'd short, Never to go again,
When the old man died..

It rang an alarm in the dead of the night,
And alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we know that his spirit was pluming its flight,
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short, Never to go again,
When the old man died.

 

I've been working on the railroad
All the livelong day
I've been working on the railroad
Just to pass the time away

Can't you hear the whistle blowing
Rise up so early in the morn
Can't you hear the captain shouting
Dinah, blow your horn

Dinah, won't you blow
Dinah, won't you blow
Dinah, won't you blow your horn
Dinah, won't you blow
Dinah, won't you blow
Dinah, won't you blow your horn

Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah
Someone's in the kitchen I know
Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah
Strumming on the old banjo, and singing

Fie, fi, fiddly i o
Fie, fi, fiddly i o
Fie, fi, fiddly i o
Strumming on the old banjo

 

 

John Brown's body lies a-mold'ring in the grave
John Brown's body lies a-mold'ring in the grave
John Brown's body lies a-mold'ring in the grave
His soul goes marching on

Chorus:          

Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory! Hallelujah! 
His soul is marching on

He captured Harper's Ferry with his nineteen men so true
He frightened old Virginia till she trembled
through and through
They hung him for a traitor, themselves the traitor crew
His soul is marching on

John Brown died that the slave might be free,
John Brown died that the slave might be free,
John Brown died that the slave might be free,
But his soul is marching on!

The stars above in Heaven are looking kindly down
The stars above in Heaven are looking kindly down
The stars above in Heaven are looking kindly down
On the grave of old John Brown

 

Lavender's blue, diddle diddle
Lavender's green,
When I am king, diddle diddle
You shall be queen.

Lavender's green, diddle diddle
Lavender's blue,
You must love me, diddle diddle
'Cause I love you.

Down in the vale, diddle diddle
Where flowers grow,
And the birds sing, diddle diddle
All in a row.

A brisk young man, diddle diddle
Met with a maid,
And laid her down, diddle diddle
Under the shade.

There they did play, diddle diddle
And kiss and court.
All the fine day, diddle diddle
Making good sport.

I've heard them say, diddle diddle
Since I came hither
That you and I, diddle diddle
Might lie together.

Therefore be kind, diddle diddle
While here we lie,
And you will love, diddle diddle
My dog and I.

For you and I, diddle diddle
Now all are one,
And we will lie, diddle diddle
No more alone.

Lavender's blue, diddle diddle
Lavender's green,
Let me be king, diddle diddle
You be the queen.

Lavender's green, diddle diddle
Lavender's blue,
You must love me, diddle diddle
'Cause I love you.

 

 

If you'll listen, I'll sing you a sweet little song,
Of a flower that's now drooped and dead,
Yet dearer to me, yes, than all of its mates,
Tho' each holds aloft its proud head.
'Twas given to me by a girl that I know,
Since we've met, faith, I've known no repose,
She is dearer by far than the world's brightest star,
And I call her my wild Irish Rose.


Chorus:          

My wild Irish Rose,

The sweetest flow'r that grows,
You may search ev'rywhere,

But none can compare
With my wild Irish Rose.
My wild Irish Rose,

The dearest flow'r that grows,
And some day for my sake,
She may let me take
The bloom from my wild Irish Rose.


They may sing of their roses which, by other names,
Would smell just as sweetly, they say,
But I know that my Rose would never consent
To have that sweet name taken away.
Her glances are shy when e'er I pass by
The bower, where my true love grows;
And my one wish has been that someday I may win
The heart of my wild Irish Rose.

 

 

Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Oh, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
When I have no hat to put on?
Off to the haberdasher she did go,
As fast as she could run,
Bought him a hat, the best that was there,
And the soldier put it on.

Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Oh, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
When I have no coat to put on?
Off to the tailor she did go,
As fast as she could run,
Bought him a coat, the best that was there,
And the soldier put it on.

Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Oh, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
When I have no boots to put on?
Off to the cobbler she did go,
As fast as she could run,
Bought him a pair of the best that was there,
And the soldier put them on.

Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Oh, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
When I have no pants to put on?
Off to the tailor she did go,
As fast as she could run,
Bought him a pair, the best that was there,
And the soldier put them on.

Soldier, soldier, will you marry me,
With your musket, fife and drum?
Well, how can I marry such a pretty girl as you,
With a wife and three kids back home?

 

 

From this valley they say you are going
We will miss your bright eyes and sweet smile
For they say you are taking the sunshine
That has brightened our path for a while

Chorus:          

Come and sit by my side if you love me
Do not hasten to bid me adieu

But remember the Red River Valley
And the cowboy who loved you so true

Won't you think of the valley you're leaving
Oh how lonely, how sad it will be?
Oh think of the fond heart you're breaking
And the grief you are causing to me

As you go to your home by the ocean
May you never forget those sweet hours
That we spent in the Red River Valley
And the love we exchanged mid the flowers

 

 

Missouri, she's a mighty river
Way-aye, you rolling river
The redskin's camp lies on its borders,
A way - we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

The white man loved the Indian maid,
Way-aye, you rolling river!
With notions his canoe was laden
A way - we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

Oh Shenandoah, I love your daughter
Way-aye, you rolling river
I'll take her 'cross yon rolling water
A way - we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

The Chief disdained the trader's dollars,
Way-aye, you rolling river
My daughter you shall never follow
A way - we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

For seven years I courted Sally,
Way-aye, you rolling river
For seven more I longed to have her
A way - we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

She said she would not be my lover
Way-aye, you rolling river
Because I was a tarry sailor
A way - we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

At last there came a Yankee skipper
Way-aye, you rolling river
He winked his eye, and he tipped his flipper
A way - we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

He sold the Chief that fire-water
Way-aye, you rolling river
And 'cross the river he stole his daughter
A way - we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

Oh Shenandoah! I long to hear you,
Way-aye, you rolling river
Across that wide and rolling river.
A way - we're bound away
'cross the wide Missouri!

 

 

As I walked out in the Streets of Laredo
As I walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a young cowboy, all wrapped in white linen
wrapped up in white linen and cold as the clay.

I see by your outfit, that you are a cowboy,
These words he did say as I slowly walked by.
Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story,
For I'm shot in the breast, and I'm dying today.

Twas once in the saddle I used to go dashing,
Twas once in the saddle I used to go gay.
First to the dradonotuse-house, and then to the card-house,
Got shot in the breast, and I'm dying today.

Oh, beat the drum slowly and play the fife lowly,
And play the dead march as you carry me along;
Take me to the green valley, there lay the sod oer me,
For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong.

Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin,
Get six pretty maidens to bear up my pall.
Put bunches of roses all over my coffin,
Roses to deaden the sods as they fall.

Then swing your rope slowly and rattle yours purs lowly,
And give a wild whoop as you carry me along;
And in the grave throw me and roll the sod o'er me.
For I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong.

Go bring me a cup, a cup of cold water.
To cool my parched lips, the cowboy then said.
Before I returned, his soul had departed,
And gone to the round up - the cowboy was dead.

We beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly,
And bitterly wept as we bore him along.
For we all loved our comrade, so brave, young and handsome,
We all loved our comrade, although he'd done wrong.

 

 

Oh, do you remember Sweet Betsey from Pike
Who crossed the wide prairie with her lover Ike?
With two yoke of oxen, a big yellow dog,
A tall Shanghai rooster, and one spotted hog.

 

Chorus:          

Hoodle dang, fol-de-dye do,
Hoodle dang, fol-de day.


Out on the prairie one bright starry night,
They broke out the whisky and Betsey got tight;
She sang and she shouted and danced o'er the plain,
And made a great show for the whole wagon train.

The Injuns came down in a wild yelling horde,
And Betsey was skeered they would scalp her adored;
Behind the front wagon wheel Betsey did crawl,
And fought off the Injuns with musket and ball.

They soon reached the desert, where Betsey gave out,
And down in the sand she lay rolling about;
While Ike in great terror looked on in surprise,
Saying, "Get up now, Betsey, you'll get sand in your eyes."

The wagon tipped over with a terrible crash,
And out on the prairie rolled all sorts of trash;
A few little baby clothes done up with care
Looked rather suspicious - though 'twas all on the square.

The Shanghai ran off and the cattle all died,
The last piece of bacon that morning was fried;
Poor Ike got discouraged, and Betsy got mad,
The dog wagged his tail and looked wonderfully sad.

They swam the wide rivers and cross the tall peaks,
And camped on the prairie for weeks upon weeks,
Starvation and cholera and hard work and slaughter,
They reached California spite of hell and high water.

Long Ike and sweet Betsey attended a dance,
Where Ike wore a pair of his Pike County pants;
Sweet Betsey was covered with ribbons and rings.
Said Ike, "You're an angel, but where are your wings?"

A miner said, "Betsey, will you dance with me?"
"I will that, old hoss, if you don't make too free;
But don't dance me hard. Do you want to know why?
Doggone you, I'm chock full of strong alkali."

Long Ike, and sweet Betsey got married of course,
But Ike, getting jealous, obtained a divorce;
And Betsey, well satisfied, said with a shout,
"Good-by, you big lummux, I'm glad you backed out."

 

 

The cruel war is raging
Johnny has to fight
I want to be with him
From morning till night

I'm counting the minutes
The hours and the days,
Oh Lord, stop the cruel war,
For this, my heart prays.

I made my decision,
I will join up too,
Oh Johnny, dear Johnny,
I'll soon be with you.

We women are fighters,
We can help you win,
Oh Johnny, I'm hoping,
That they'll take me in.

The cruel war is raging
Johnny has to fight
I want to be with him
From morning till night

 

 

The cruel war is raging
Johnny has to fight
I want to be with him
From morning till night

Oh Johnny, dear Johnny,
Morning, noon and night,
I think of you marching,
Left, right, left and right

I know you're so gentle
When you hold me tight,
Oh how will they make you
Get out there and fight?

Go speak to your sergeant,
And say you want out,
Just say you're allergic
To this kind of bout.

Oh Johnny, dear Johnny,
Yes, I know you're brave,
But oh how I miss you,
It's your love I crave.

Oh why did the army
Take you from my side,
To go into battle,
Away from your bride.

 

 

When I was a bachelor, I liv'd all alone
I worked at the weaver's trade
And the only, only thing that I did that was wrong
Was to woo a fair young maid.
I wooed her in the wintertime
Part of the summer, too
And the only, only thing that I did that was wrong
Was to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew.

One night she knelt close by my side
When I was fast asleep.
She threw her arms around my neck
And she began to weep.
She wept, she cried, she tore her hair
Ah, me! What could I do?
So all night long I held her in my arms
Just to keep her from the foggy foggy dew.

Again I am a bachelor, I live with my son
We work at the weaver's trade.
And every sing time I look into his eyes
He reminds me of that fair young maid.
He reminds me of the wintertime
Part of the summer, too,
And the many, many times that I held her in my arms
Just to keep her from the foggy, foggy, dew.

 

 

There's a yellow rose of Texas
That I am going to see,
No other fellow knows her,
No other, only me.
She cried so when I left her,
It like to break my heart,
And if I ever find her
We never more will part.

She's the sweetest rose of color
A fellow ever knew,
Her eyes are bright as di'monds,
They sparkle like the dew.
You may talk about your dearest May
and sing of Rosa Lee,
But the Yellow Rose of Texas
Beats the belles of Tennessee.

Oh, now I'm going to find her,
For my heart is full of woe,
And we'll sing the song together,
That we sung long ago;
We'll play the banjo gaily,
and we'll sing the songs of yore,
And the Yellow Rose of Texas
Shall be mine forevermore.

 

 

Over in Killarney,
Many years ago,
Me mither sang a song to me
In tones so sweet and low.
Just a simple little ditty,
In her good old Irish way,
And I'd give the world if she could sing
That song to me this day.


Chorus:          

Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Hush, now don't you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,

That's an Irish lullaby.

Oft, in dreams I wander
To that cot again,
I feel her arms a huggin' me
As when she held me then.
And I hear her voice a humin'
To me as in days or yore,
When she used to rock me fast asleep
Outside the cabin door.

 

 

As I was a-gwine down the road,
With a tired team and a heavy load,
I crack'd my whip and the leader sprung,
I says day-day to the wagon tongue.

 

Chorus:          

Turkey in the straw, turkey in the hay,
Roll 'em up and twist 'em up a high tuckahaw

And twist 'em up a tune called Turkey in the Straw.

Went out to milk, and I didn't know how,
I milked the goat instead of the cow.
A monkey sittin' on a pile of straw,
A-winkin' at his mother-in-law.


Met Mr. Catfish comin' down stream.
Says Mr. Catfish, "What do you mean?"
Caught Mr. Catfish by the snout,
And turned Mr. Catfish wrong side out.


Came to a river and I couldn't get across,
Paid five dollars for a blind old hoss;
Wouldn't go ahead, nor he wouldn't stand still,
So he went up and down like an old saw mill.


As I came down the new cut road,
Met Mr. Bullfrog, met Miss Toad
And every time Miss Toad would sing,
Old Bullfrog cut a pigeon wing.

Oh I jumped in the seat and I gave a little yell
The horses ran away, broke the wagon all to hell
Sugar in the gourd and honey in the horn
I never been so happy since the day I was born.

 

There's a tear in your eye,
And I'm wondering why,
For it never should be there at all.
With such pow'r in your smile,
Sure a stone you'd beguile,
So there's never a teardrop should fall.
When your sweet lilting laughter's
Like some fairy song,
And your eyes twinkle bright as can be;
You should laugh all the while
And all other times smile,
And now, smile a smile for me.

Chorus:          

When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away.

For your smile is a part
Of the love in your heart,
And it makes even sunshine more bright.
Like the linnet's sweet song,
Crooning all the day long,
Comes your laughter and light.
For the springtime of life
Is the sweetest of all
There is ne'er a real care or regret;
And while springtime is ours
Throughout all of youth's hours,
Let us smile each chance we get.

 

 

Father and I went down to camp
Along with Captain Gooding
And there we saw the men and boys
As thick as hasty pudding.

Chorus
:          

Yankee doodle, keep it up
Yankee doodle dandy
Mind the music and the step
And with the girls be handy.


There was Captain Washington
Upon a slapping stallion
A-giving orders to his men
I guess there was a million.

And then the feathers on his hat
They looked so' tarnal fin-a
I wanted pockily to get
To give to my Jemima.

And then we saw a swamping gun
Large as a log of maple
Upon a deuced little cart
A load for father's cattle.

And every time they shoot it off
It takes a horn of powder
It makes a noise like father's gun
Only a nation louder.

I went as nigh to one myself
As' Siah's underpinning
And father went as nigh agin
I thought the deuce was in him.


We saw a little barrel, too
The heads were made of leather
They knocked upon it with little clubs
And called the folks together.

And there they'd fife away like fun
And play on cornstalk fiddles
And some had ribbons red as blood
All bound around their middles.


The troopers, too, would gallop up
And fire right in our faces
It scared me almost to death
To see them run such races.

Uncle Sam came there to change
Some pancakes and some onions
For' lasses cake to carry home
To give his wife and young ones.

But I can't tell half I see
They kept up such a smother
So I took my hat off, made a bow
And scampered home to mother.

Cousin Simon grew so bold
I thought he would have cocked it
It scared me so I streaked it off
And hung by father's pocket.

And there I saw a pumpkin shell
As big as mother's basin
And every time they touched it off
They scampered like the nation.:

And there was Captain Washington,
With gentlefolks about him,
They say he's gown so 'tarnal proud
He will not ride without them.

There came Gen'ral Washington
Upon a snow-white charger
He looked as big as all outdoors
And thought that he was larger.

Books are the legacies that a great genius leaves to mankind,
which are delivered down from generation to generation
as presents to the posterity of those who are not yet born.
- Joseph Addison