1. |
The January Man
03:43
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The January man he walks abroad
In woollen coat and boots of leather
The February man still shakes the snow
From off his hair and blows his hands
The man of March he sees the Spring and
Wonders what the year will bring
And hopes for better weather
Through April rain the man goes down
To watch the birds come in to share the summer
The man of May stands very still
Watching the children dance away the day
In June the man inside the man is young
And wants to lend a hand
And grins at each new comer
And in July the man in cotton shirt
He sits and thinks on being idle
The August man in thousands takes the road
To watch the sea and find the sun
September man is standing near
To saddle up and lead the year
And Autumn is his bridle
The man of new October takes the reins
And early frost is on his shoulder
The poor November man sees fire and wind
And mist and rain and Winter air
December man looks through the snow
To let eleven brothers know
They're all a little older
The January man comes round again
In woollen coat and boots of leather
To take another turn and walk along
The icy road he knows so well
The January man is here at the start of every year
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2. |
Lady Luna
03:29
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How proudly you hang there in the sky,
Watching the world as it passes you by
Looking down on us, totally judge-less
Of all that you see in your gleaming glass eye
And as you wait there so patiently,
Guarding our den of inequity,
You wink at us slowly, so humble, so lowly,
Knowingly, cloudily, luminously
CHORUS
Lady, Luna
Wrapped up in your endless blue shawl
You’re ever present, even when crescent,
Queen of the night and a mother to all
How many songs have been written for you?
How many of those do you hear?
How do you listen, up there in your prison,
To our words of loving comparison
CHORUS
And when there is nothing left to mine,
Into your great bosom we’ll climb
But until then, only few men,
Can actually say that they know you shine
CHORUS
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3. |
Nine Times A Night
03:01
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A handsome young sailor to London came down,
He'd been paid off his ship from old Liverpool town.
They asked him his name and he answered them, “Quite,
I belong to a family called nine times a night.”
Well a handsome young widow who still wore her weeds,
Her husband had left her his money and deeds,
Resolved she was on her conjugal rights
And to soften her sorrows with nine times a night.
So she's called to her serving maids Ann and Amelia
To keep a watch out for this wonderful sailor,
And if ever he happened to chance in their sight
To bring her fond tidings of nine times a night.
She was favoured by fortune the very next day
The two giggling saw him coming their way.
They've rushed up the stairs full of amorous delight,
Crying, “Here comes that sailor with his nine times a night.”
She's jumped out of bed, she's pulled on her clothes
And straight to the hall door like lightening she goes.
She's looked him once over and gave him a smack
And the bargain was struck: no more sailing for Jack.
The wedding was over, the bride tolled the bell,
Jack trimmed her sails five times, that pleased her well.
She vowed to herself she was satisfied quite
But she still gives sly hints about nine times a night.
Says Jack, “My dear bride, you mistook me quite wrong,
I said to that family I did belong:
Nine times a night's a bit hard for a man;
I couldn't do it myself, but my sister she can
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4. |
Through The Morning
03:55
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And the story that you’re listening for is the one that she won’t tell
It’s the sound of a dawn that’s breaking and a life she lived so well
She stood up with her mother and cut her long blond hair
All dressed up in their best they shared a whisky on the stairs
And she said now are you ready to collect berries from the trees
It’s cold outside don’t be surprised if there’s nothing there to see
She walked through the morning….
As she was in those fields she lay her head up on the ground
Stay right here for just a year all stretched across the mound
And a sound across the valley made her sit up in her grave
The moss had grown inside her shoes and around her grown a cave
The rain had started gently and ran her off the hill
It was someone else’s temper that had give the night it’s chill
She walked through the morning
She walked through the morning
She walked all through the morning and she walked all through the night
A turning light lit up the sky.. Not a soul came to her sight
There they lay together with a crown upon her head
And dreamt of all the things that they had never ever said
And this light it was changing and dissolving all her sight
The man that she was holding near was stolen by the night
And the story that you’re listening for is the one that she won’t tell
It’s the sound of a dawn that’s breaking and the life they lived so well
She walked through the morning
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5. |
She's Like The Swallow
04:53
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She's like the swallow that flies on high
She's like the river that never runs dry
She's like the sun beaming on the lee shore
I love my love, but love is no more
A maiden into her garden did go
For to pluck her some wild primrose
The more she plucked, the more she did pull
Until this maiden's apron was full
Then out of these roses she made a bed
A scarlet pillow for her head
She laid her down, no word she did speak
And then this maiden's heart, it did break
She's like the swallow that flies on high
She's like the river that never runs dry
She's like the sun beaming on the lee shore
I love my love, but love is no more
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6. |
The Tinkerman's Daughter
04:44
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The wee birds were lining the bleak autumn branches
Preparing to fly to some far sunny shore
When the tinkers made camp at the bend in the river
On the way from the horse show in Ballinasloe
The harvest being over the farmer went walking
Along the Feale River that bordered his land
And twas there he first saw her, twixt firelight and water
The Tinkerman's daughter, The Red Headed Ann.
Next morning he rose from a night without sleeping
He went straight to her father and made his claim known.
In a pub in Listowel they worked out a bargain
For the Tinker a pony: for the daughter a home.
Where trees shed their shadows along the Feale River
The Tinker and farmer inspected the land
And a white gelding pony was the price they agreed on
For the Tinkerman’s daughter, The Red Headed Ann.
With the wedding soon over the tinkers departed
They were eager to head on south down the road
But the crunch of the iron-shod wheels on the gravel
Was as bitter to her as the way she’d been sold.
Yet she tried hard to please him – she did all his bidding
She slept in his bed and she worked on the land
But the walls of that cabin pressed tighter and tighter
On the Tinkerman’s daughter, The Red Headed Ann.
As white as the hands of the priest or the hangman
The snow spread its blanket the next Christmas round
When the Tinkerman’s daughter slipped out from the bedside
Turned her back on the land and her face to the town.
It was said someone saw her at dusk that same evening
She was making her way down to Lyreacrompane
But that was the last time the settled folk saw her
The Tinkerman’s daughter, The Red Headed Ann.
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Tell Tale Tusk London, UK
Tell Tale Tusk weave spellbinding and award-winning vocal harmonies around melodious instrumentals to reimagine folktales
old and give light to folktales new.
Tell Tale Tusk’s take on folk is boundlessly creative: as well as being inventive interpreters of music from around the British Isles, the ensemble are prolific writers, adding their distinctive and astute voices to modern day folksong.
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