Get all 5 Paul Carbuncle releases available on Bandcamp and save 35%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Monkfish Mix-Up At Farmers' Market, Old Boots And Weasels - Seven Deleted Tracks, Carbuncular Christmas!, A Life Spent Staring At Chairs, and A Cold Cup Of Tea And A Howl Of Despair.
1. |
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The fisherman’s son to the ice is gone
On the quarter-deck you’ll find him
His belt and sheath he's girded on
And his tow-rope slung behind him
“I’ll go to the ice and I’ll catch some seals
And all the crew will join me
And when I come home I’ll bring a bill
For the girl I left behind me”
Well the ice slacked off and we got our load
Our good ship homeward steering
Flushed with success our bosom glowed
As St John’s we are nearing
Blow gentle breezes soft and clear
All ’cross the bright blue waters
And bring us to those we love so dear
Fair Terra Nova’s daughters
The fisherman’s son to the ice is gone
On the quarter-deck you’ll find him
His belt and sheath he's girded on
And his tow-rope slung behind him
“I’ll go to the ice and I’ll catch some seals
And all the crew will join me
And when I come home I’ll bring a bill
For the girl I left behind me”
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2. |
Our Lousy Hops
01:35
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Now dear old Mother Nincompoop
Had nigh twelve month been dead
She heard the hops were pretty good
And she just popped out her head
And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round
Now some of us are Pluckley born
And some are from the shires
And one or two are Gravel Walk
With Woodbines and guitars
And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round
Now half the time we’re mucky mitts
And half the time half-clean
Then it’s mostly we’re kept waiting
Till the measurer’s come and been
And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round
Now twelve o’clock it’s dinner time
Down in the hut we go
There’s apples off the orchard
And there’s cobnuts off the row
And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round
Now when he comes to measure
He never knows where to stop
Why don’t he just get in the bin
And take the sodding lot
And it’s our lousy hops
Pick ’em up all off the ground
Our lousy hops we pick ’em up
When the measurer he comes round
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3. |
Blues Run The Game
01:55
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Catch a boat to England, baby, maybe to Spain
Wherever I have gone, wherever I've been and gone
Wherever I have gone the blues are all the same
Send out for whiskey, baby, send out for gin
Me and room service, honey, me and room service, babe
Me and room service, well we're living a life of sin
When I'm not drinking, baby, you are on my mind
When I ain't sleeping, honey, when I ain't sleeping, mama
When I ain't sleeping, well you know you'll find me crying
Try another city, baby, another town
Wherever I have gone, wherever I've been and gone
Wherever I have gone the blues come following down
Living is a gamble, baby, loving's much the same
Wherever I have played, wherever I rolled them dice
Wherever I have played the blues have run the game
Maybe tomorrow, baby, some place down the line
I'll wake up older, so much older, mama
I'll wake up older and I'll just stop all my trying
Catch a boat to England, baby, maybe to Spain
Wherever I have gone, wherever I've been and gone
Wherever I have gone the blues are all the same
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4. |
Gypsy Davy
01:59
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The Squire came home late in the night
Enquiring for his lady
And the answer that they made to him:
“She’s gone with the gypsy Davy.”
With a liptoe tally boney dilly by day
And a wack fol the liptoe lady.
He saddled up his milk-white steed,
He saddled up his pony,
And he rode all night till broad daylight
And he overtook his lady.
With a liptoe tally boney dilly by day
And a wack fol the liptoe lady.
It’s “Come, go back, my dearest dear,
Come back with me, my honey,
And I swear by the sword that hangs by my side
You never shall want for money.”
With a liptoe tally boney dilly by day
And a wack fol the liptoe lady.
“I won’t go back, my dearest dear,
No I won’t go back, my honey.
I’d sooner have a kiss from Davy’s lips
Than all your land and money.”
With a liptoe tally boney dilly by day
And a wack fol the liptoe lady.
“Pull off, pull off your high-heel shoes
All made of Spanish leather
And give to me your lily-white hand,
We’ll bid farewell for ever.”
With a liptoe tally boney dilly by day
And a wack fol the liptoe lady.
She’s pulled off her high-heel shoes
All made of Spanish leather
And she give to him her lily-white hand
And bid farewell for ever.
With a liptoe tally boney dilly by day
And a wack fol the liptoe lady.
Last night she lay on a soft featherbed
With her good lord beside her,
Tonight she lies on the damp cold ground
With the gypsies all around her.
With a liptoe tally boney dilly by day
And a wack fol the liptoe lady,
With a liptoe tally boney dilly by day
And a wack fol the liptoe day.
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5. |
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Land of ungratefulness, land of misrule,
Whose voice is resentment, whose actions are cruel,
Whose policy is to traumatize, whose enemy is hope,
It’s a hostile environment and a slippery slope.
Kamal dreams of living in his daddy’s house in Brum
But he’s locked up in Yarl’s Wood with his sister and mum.
“Oh we recognize it’s desirable to reunite kith and kin
But it’s a hostile environment and you ain’t coming in.”
Nicolette has run her café since 1994.
Now if she can’t find a pile of paperwork they’ll show her the door.
“Yeah we know you’ve paid your tax all these 25 years
But it’s a hostile environment so what’s with the tears?”
Cherry last saw Trinidad when she was just five.
In her seventies now, she sees a prison-van arrive.
“As you appear to have no passport let us make you aware
That it’s a hostile environment and your home is back there.”
Land of ungratefulness, land of misrule,
Whose voice is resentment, whose actions are cruel,
Whose policy is to traumatize, whose enemy is hope,
It’s a hostile environment and a slippery slope.
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6. |
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Oh where have you been, oh where have you been
Where have you been my darling one?
Where have you been, oh where have you been
Where have you been my darling one?
Well I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways
Stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it’s a hard, well it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard rain’s gonna fall
Oh what did you see, and what did you see
Well what did you see my darling one?
And what did you see, oh what did you see
And what did you see my darling one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
Saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept dripping
Saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleeding
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
Saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it’s a hard, well it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
It’s a hard, and it’s a hard rain’s gonna fall
And what did you hear, what did you hear
And what did you hear my darling one?
And what did you hear, oh what did you hear,
What did you hear my darling one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warning
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazing
Heard ten thousand whispering and nobody listening
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughing
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it’s a hard, well it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
It’s a hard, and it’s a hard rain’s gonna fall
What will you do now, what will you do now
What will you do now, my darling one?
What will you do now, what will you do now
What will you do now, my darling one?
I’m going back out before the rain starts a-falling
I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner’s face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the colour, where none is the number
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinking
But I’ll know my song well before I start singing
And it’s a hard, well it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
It’s a hard, and it’s a hard rain’s gonna fall
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7. |
The Final Curtain Call
02:05
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Oh, I lock myself away
And I'm on the brink
Of learning how to think
Without your words protruding through my skull
With one brief pull
They felt like bullet-wounded birds in flight
With no more chance to fight
Than if my eyes were gouged and my hands bound
It made me sad to think that if I had a gun
I'd shoot them instead
This story's getting old, it's old, it's old
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut
Oh, it's all my fault
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept it shut
Oh, a habit I can't kick
And it makes me sick
To think I think too much about such things
Is how your friends perceive or if I'm naive
To not already know what they'll think
So I know it's for the best I lay to rest
These thoughts within my brain that cause me pain
Goodbye, don't cry
But if you don't I'll be wondering why
This story's getting old, it's old, it's old
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut
Oh, it's all my fault
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut
Oh, it's old, it's old
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut
Oh, it's all my fault
The final curtain call, I wish I'd kept it shut
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8. |
Old Cries Of Nottingham
02:26
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Hear the old cries of Nottingham
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
Still the old cries of Nottingham
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
Sing “Coal-e-oh! A coal-e-oh!”
Sing “Rag-a-bone! A rag-a-bone!”
Hear the old cries of Nottingham
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
Buy a rabbit cheap, a rabbit oh
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
Sixpence whole, a bob I skin it oh
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
Sing “Coal-e-oh! A coal-e-oh!”
Sing “Rag-a-bone! A rag-a-bone!”
Buy a rabbit cheap, a rabbit oh
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
Catch the old salt on the morning run
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
With his buttons blue and a penny bun
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
Sing “Coal-e-oh! A coal-e-oh!”
Sing “Rag-a-bone! A rag-a-bone!”
Catch the old salt on the morning run
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
A pound your apples, pears, and plums you go
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
And your partridge rare, a pheasant oh
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
Sing “Coal-e-oh! A coal-e-oh!”
Sing “Rag-a-bone! A rag-a-bone!”
A pound your apples, pears, and plums you go
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
Hear the old cries of Nottingham
Bawl away, bawl away, bawl away
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9. |
Loco Fireman
02:53
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Whenever you see a train go by
Or hear an engine’s whistle cry
Think of the man on the old footplate
Shovelling coal, the driver’s mate
A loco fireman is my grade
Boiling water is my trade
The driver thinks he runs the show
But if I’m not there the train don’t go
Feeding coal to a hungry fire,
Sweating cobs to get steam higher
What the collier harvests, that I burn
With toil and sweat my wages earn
A loco fireman is my grade
Boiling water is my trade
The driver thinks he runs the show
But if I’m not there the train don’t go
The driver sits there like a god
A decent mate but an idle sod
Though I’ll be shovelling on my knees
Still he’ll sit there at his ease
A loco fireman is my grade
Boiling water is my trade
The driver thinks he runs the show
But if I’m not there the train don’t go
Pick and shovel are the tools of my trade
And two strong arms to swing the blade
Hands with palms as hard as leather
And nimble feet as light as a feather
A loco fireman is my grade
Boiling water is my trade
The driver thinks he runs the show
But if I’m not there the train don’t go
One day a driver I will be
Of the pick and shovel I’ll be free
Until that day I’ll shift the coal
Raising steam so the train can roll
A loco fireman is my grade
Boiling water is my trade
The driver thinks he runs the show
But if I’m not there the train don’t go
So whenever you see a train go by
Or hear an engine’s whistle cry
Think of the man on the old footplate
Shovelling coal, the driver’s mate
A loco fireman is my grade
Boiling water is my trade
The driver thinks he runs the show
But if I’m not there the train don’t go
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10. |
Fearful Song
02:27
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There was a heart before the broken heart
A young heart, young heart
There was a heart before the broken heart
A young heart, young heart
Young heart still within, under the skin, listening in
May the broken heart not win
There was a man before the hateful man
A young man, young man
There was a man before the hateful man
A young man, young man
Young man still within, under the skin, listening in
May the hateful man not win
There was a land before the selfish land
A young land, young land
There was a land before the selfish land
A young land, young land
Young land still within, under the skin, listening in
May the selfish land not win
There was a world before the bitter world
A young world, young world
There was a world before the bitter world
A young world, young world
Young world still within, under the skin, listening in
May the bitter world not win
There was a song before the fearful song
A young song, young song
There was a song before the fearful song
A young song, young song
Young song still within, under the skin, listening in
May the fearful song not win
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11. |
Rise Up
01:54
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We thought it was over when Franco was dead
We’d kicked out the fascists and put them to bed
We wanted the freedom but what did we get?
Stand up with us now - don’t live to regret
If Madrid wins this battle democracy’s dead
It’s time to rise up, start using your head
The war is not over, not over for sure
Come people be heard - we’ve been here before
Rise up, rise up with the Catalan folk
They’re taking our freedom, this isn’t a joke
Rise up, rise up with the Catalan folk,
Give us support and give us some hope
We thought it was over in ’75
With Franco dictator no longer alive
But that’s not today the way it is here
The Catalans protesting, you can feel their fear
Arresting officials, not allowing a choice
The Catalans screaming, “We’ve all got a voice!”
Be it yes, be it no, we’re going to go
We’re sick of Madrid, we want people to know
Rise up, rise up with the Catalan folk
They’re taking our freedom, this isn’t a joke
Rise up, rise up with the Catalan folk,
Give us support and give us some hope
Police on the streets arriving in droves
Wearing their uniforms, paramilitary clones
If you’ve got a poll-card you better beware
They’re picking up people everywhere
Rise up, rise up with the Catalan folk
They’re taking our freedom, this isn’t a joke
Rise up, rise up with the Catalan folk,
Give us support and give us some hope
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12. |
Walked In The Middle
02:59
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You’ve got to learn to love, you’ve got to learn to love,
It’s all easy enough, you’ve got to learn to love.
You take it easy, you take it slow,
You take it anywhere you feel you wanna go,
And you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road,
Yeah you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road.
You take your time, you take your place,
You take it anywhere that lends to the disgrace,
And you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road,
Yeah you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road.
You’ve got to learn to love, you’ve got to learn to love,
It’s all easy enough, you’ve got to learn to love.
And you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road,
Yeah you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road.
Between the lines, between the wires,
Between all that you’re told the free soul fights and tires,
And you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road,
Yeah you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road.
You can’t say yes, you won’t say no,
You know the truth, you heard the proof, a liar told you so,
And you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road,
Yeah you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road.
You’ve got to learn to love, you’ve got to learn to love,
It’s all easy enough, you’ve got to learn to love.
And you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road,
Yeah you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road.
You think you’re smart, you think you’re brave,
And who am I to disagree and tell you what you ain’t,
And you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road,
Yeah you walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road.
So count your enemies, now count your friends,
Divide the first, subtract the last, repel the demons of the past,
Take the stand and testify and tell us all the reason why,
Tell us why
You walked in the middle, walked in the middle,
Walked in the middle of the road,
Yeah you walked in the middle, and you walked in the middle,
And you walked in the middle of the road...
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13. |
Witch Hunt
01:59
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Stubbing out progress where seeds are sown
Killing off anything that’s not quite known
Sitting around in a nice safe home
Waiting for the witch hunt
Idle plans for the idol rich
Knitting the economy, not dropping a stitch
Destroying anything that doesn’t quite fit
Waiting for the witch hunt
Still living with the English fear
Waiting for the witch hunt, dear
Still living with the English fear
Waiting for the witch hunt, dear
Changing your course for another way
You better stop that or be willing to pay
Never mind, son, you’ll come around some day
Under pressure from the witch hunt
Stubbing out progress where seeds are sown
Killing off anything that’s not quite known
Sitting around in a nice safe home
Waiting for the witch hunt
Still living with the English fear
Waiting for the witch hunt, dear
Still living with the English fear
Waiting for the witch hunt, dear
Still living with the English fear
Waiting for the witch hunt, dear
Always living with the English fear
Waiting for the witch hunt
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14. |
Shellshock
02:52
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Sent back from the front
To the children and me,
There’s a twitch around your mouth
Where your smile used to be.
Cramps and groans but no broken bones.
Oh my love.
Too haunted to speak
And too angry to eat,
You’re clinging to the bed
As I change the wet sheet.
Strange yelps and moans but no broken bones.
Oh my love.
Are they old friends
That you stare at all night?
Or the enemy impaled,
Rising up for a fight?
So many unknowns but no broken bones.
Oh my love.
I must endure
And pretend to be glad
For these daughters and this son
Who can’t fathom their dad.
Broken men, broken homes, but no broken bones.
Oh my love.
One summer’s day
And you’re off to the shed.
Here’s to regimental pride!
Seven swigs till you’re dead.
Lying cold as the stones, ahh but no broken bones.
Oh my love.
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15. |
Duty Of Care
02:40
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Boss number one, he’s on your case,
Boss number two, he just don’t like your face,
Boss number three, he knows,
He knows you can’t say no
And so the workload grows and grows.
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.
And your mates can see but what can they do?
Yeah they can see the pressure piling up on you.
Head office say...
Well, head office say they need you back at work today
Okay?
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.
Compassionate leave request refused,
But here’s some leaflets you can read if you’re confused.
Boss number four, he now wants more and more,
He’s put you down for Sundays, same pay as before
Or there’s the door.
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.
They don’t care anything about the place you’ve been.
They don’t care anything about the state you’re in.
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16. |
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My father had an acre of land
Ee-oh sing ivy
My father had an acre of land
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
He ploughed it with a team of rats
Ee-oh sing ivy
Ploughed it with a team of rats
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
He sowed it with a pepper-box
Ee-oh sing ivy
Sowed it with a pepper-box
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
He harrowed it with a small-tooth comb
Ee-oh sing ivy
Harrowed it with a small-tooth comb
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
He rolled it down with a rolling pin
Ee-oh sing ivy
Rolled it down with a rolling pin
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
He ripped it with the blade of his knife
Ee-oh sing ivy
Ripped it with the blade of his knife
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
He thrashed it with a wad of straw
Ee-oh sing ivy
Thrashed it with a wad of straw
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
He wimmed it on the brim of his hat
Ee-oh sing ivy
Wimmed it on the brim of his hat
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
He sent it to town on a louse’s back
Ee-oh sing ivy
Sent it to town on a louse’s back
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
And now the poor old man is dead
Ee-oh sing ivy
Now the poor old man is dead
And a bunch of green holly and ivy
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17. |
Pete Morton's Attitude
01:05
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The beginning is now...
If there’s one thing killing folk music
It isn’t the melodeons
It isn’t Dylan going electric (I don't believe you)
It isn’t the banjo
And it isn’t even Mumford and Sons
It’s Pete Morton’s attitude
Pete Morton’s attitude
Pete Morton’s attitude
And his rap-influenced rants
His rap-influenced rants
There’s just one thing killing folk music
And it isn’t the X-Factor on our screens
It isn’t bagpipes, dulcimers, or fiddles
It isn’t Mark Radcliffe
And it’s certainly not 'Stirrings' magazine
It’s Pete Morton’s attitude
Pete Morton’s attitude
Pete Morton’s attitude
And his bleedin guitar
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18. |
Think About Things
02:21
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Baby, I can't wait to know
Believe me, I will always be there so...
Though I know I love you
I find it hard to see how you feel about me
Cos I don't understand you
Oh you are yet to learn how to speak
When we first met I will never forget
Cos even though I didn't know you yet
We were bound together, then and forever
And I could never let you go
Baby, I can't wait to know
What do you think about things
Believe me, I will always be there so
You can tell me anything and I'll listen
When we are together
There isn't anywhere that I would rather be
Three birds of a feather
I just hope you enjoy our company
It's been some time and though hard to define
As if the stars have started to align
We are bound together, now and forever
And I will never let you go
Baby, I can't wait to know
What do you think about things
Believe me, I will always be there so
You can tell me anything and I'll listen
I might even know what to say
But either way
At least I'll be there
Baby, I can't wait to know
What do you think about things
Believe me, I will always be there so
You can tell me anything and I'll listen
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19. |
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As I lay musing all alone
Upon my resting bed
Full many a cogitation
Did come into my head
And, waking from my slumber,
My dream I did recall -
Methought I saw before my eyes
How the poor man pays for all.
Methought I saw how wealthy men
Did grind the poor men’s faces
And greedily did prey on them,
Not pitying their cases.
They make them toil and labour sore
For wages too too small.
The rich men in the tavern roar
But the poor man pays for all.
’Tis the weakest to the wall, and the poor man pays for all,
And the poor man, and the poor man,
The poor man pays for all.
I thought me in the countryside
Where poor men take great pains
And labour hard continually
Only for rich men’s gains.
Like the Israelites in Egypt
The poor are kept in thrall.
The task-masters keep playing
While the poor man pays for all.
Methought I saw two lawyers
And one to the other say,
‘We’ve had in hand this poor man’s case
A twelvemonth and a day,
And yet we’ll not contented be
To let the matter fall.
Bear thou with me and I’ll bear with thee
While the poor man pays for all.’
’Tis the weakest to the wall, and the poor man pays for all,
And the poor man, and the poor man,
The poor man pays for all.
Methought I saw a red-nose host
As fat as he could wallow
Whose carcass, if it should be roast,
Would drop ten stone of tallow.
He grows rich out of measure
With filling measure small.
He lives in mirth and pleasure
But the poor man pays for all.
And so likewise the brewer stout,
The chandler and the baker,
The maltman also, without doubt,
And the tobacco-taker.
Though they be proud and stately grown
And bear themselves so tall
Yet to the world it is well known:
The poor man pays for all.
’Tis the weakest to the wall, and the poor man pays for all,
And the poor man, and the poor man,
The poor man pays for all.
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20. |
Three Drunken Huntsmen
02:08
|
|||
|
It was three drunken huntsmen
And nothing could they find
But a pig by the roadside,
And that they left behind.
“Pig,” says Alan Robinson
Cookie he says “Nay”,
“An elephant,” says Carbuncle
“And his trunk is cut away”.
Tally ho, hawk away, my boys, away, hawk away!
It was three drunken huntsmen
And nothing could they find
But a frog in a well
And that they left behind.
“Frog,” says Al Robinson
Cookie he says “Nay”,
“A canary,” says Carbuncle
“And his feathers have washed away”.
Tally ho, hawk away, my boys, away, hawk away!
It was three drunken huntsmen
And nothing could they find
But a hedgehog in the lane
And that they left behind.
“Hedgehog,” says Al Robinson
Cookie he says “Nay”,
“A pincushion,” says Carbuncle
“With the pins stuck in the wrong way”.
Tally ho, hawk away, my boys, away, hawk away!
It was three drunken huntsmen
And nothing could they find
But a barn in a meadow
And that they left behind.
“Barn,” says Alan Robinson
Cookie he says “Nay”,
“A church,” says Carbuncle
“And the steeple’s blown away”.
Tally ho, hawk away, my boys, away, hawk away!
Well they hunted and they hunted
And nothing could they find
But a dead man in a ditch
And him they left behind.
“Man,” says Alan Robinson
Cookie he says “Nay”,
“A monkey,” says Carbuncle
“And his tail is chopped away”.
Tally ho, hawk away, my boys, away, hawk away!
Well all the night they hunted
And nothing could they find
But an owl in an ivy bush
And that they left behind.
“Owl,” says Alan Robinson
Cookie he says “Nay”,
“It’s the devil!” cries Carbuncle
And they all of ’em run away.
Tally ho, hawk away, my boys, away, hawk away!
|
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Paul Carbuncle Nottingham, UK
You can take the lad out of Pluckley but he'll still sing about hops.
Profile photo by Hugh Miller.
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