Ballad of Saint Anne's Reel
- David Mallett

He was stranded in a tiny town on fair Prince Edward Isle
Waiting for a ship to come and find him
A one horse place, a friendly face, some coffee and a tiny trace
Of fiddlin' in the distance far behind him

A dime across the counter then, a shy hello, a brand new friend
A walk along the street in the wintry weather
A yellow light, an open door, and a "Welcome friend, there's room for more
And then they're standing there inside together

He said, "I've heard that tune before somewhere but I can't remember when,
Was it on some other friendly shore, did I hear it on the wind
Was it written on the sky above, I think I heard it from someone I love
But I never heard a sound so sweet since then

And now his feet begin to tap, a little boy says, "I'll take your hat."
He's caught up in the magic of her smile
Leap, the heart inside him went, and off across the floor he sent
His clumsy body, graceful as a child

He said, "There's magic in the fiddler's arms and there's magic in this town
There's magic in the dancers' feet and the way they put them down
People smiling everywhere, boots and ribbons, locks of hair
Laughtcr, old blue suits and Easter gowns"

The sailor's gone, the room is bare, the old piano's setting there
Someone's hat's left hanging on the rack
The empty chair, the wooden floor that feels the touch of shoes no more
Awaitin' for the dancers to come back

And thc fiddle's in the closet of some daughter of the town
The strings are broke, tbe bow is gone and the cover's buttoned down
But sometimes on December nights, when the air is cold and the wind is right
There's a melody that passes through the town.


Banks of Newfoundland
- Francis Forbes

You bully boys of Liverpool
I'll have you all beware
When you sail on them packet ships,
No dungaree jumpers wear
But have a big monkey jacket
All ready to your hand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
Off the banks of Newfoundland

(chorus)
We'll scrape her and we'll scrub her
With holy stone and sand
For there blows some cold nor'westers
On the banks of Newfoundland

We had Jack Lynch from Malnahinch,
Mike Murphy and some more
I tell you well, they suffered like hell
On the way to Baltimore
They pawned there gear in Liverpool
And sailed as they did stand
For there blow some cold nor'westers
On the banks of Newfoundland

(chorus)

Now the mate he stood on the fo'c'sle head
And loudly he did roar
Come rattle her in me lucky lads,
You're bound for America's shore
Come wipe the blood off that dead man's face
And haul or you'll be damned
For there blow some cold nor'westers
On the banks of Newfoundland

(chorus)

So now we're off the hook me boys,
And the land is white with snow
And soon we'll see the pay table
And we'll spend the whole night below
And on the docks, come down in flocks,
Those pretty girls will say
Ah, It's snugger with me than on the sea,
On the banks of Newfoundland

(chorus)


NOTE: Original version written by Francis Forbes in the early 1800s


Barrett's Privateers
- Stan Rogers

Oh, the year was seventeen seventy-eight
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
A letter of marque came from the king
To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen

(chorus)
God damn them all, I was told,
We'd cruise the seas for A-merican gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
But I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Priva-teers

Oh, Elcid Barrett cried the town
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
For twenty brave men, all fishermen, who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew

(chorus)

The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
She'd a list to the port and her sails in rags
And the cook in the scuppers with the staggers and jags

(chorus)

On the King's birth-day we put to sea
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
We were ninety-one days to Mon-tego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way

(chorus)

On the ninety-sixth day we sailed a-gain
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
When a bloody great Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four-pounders, we made to fight

(chorus)

The Yankee lay low down with gold
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
She was broad and fat and loose in stays
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days

(chorus)

Then at length we stood two cables a-way
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Our cracked four-pounders made an awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in

(chorus)

The Antelope shook and pitched on her side
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs
And the main-truck carried off both me legs

(chorus)

So here I lay in my twenty-third year
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
It's been six years since we sailed a-way
And I just made Halifax yester-day

(chorus)


Big Bow Wow
- traditional

From Yarmouth Harbour we set sail,
the wind was a blowing the devil of a gail.
All our rig tail set and our baffling is in peak,
And our dolphin striker's plowing up the deep.

(chorus)
With a big bow wow, toww roww roww,
full a row, the ride all day.

Now our captian comes up from down below,
he looks a loft and he looks a low.
He looks a low and he looks a loft,
Saying "it's coil them ropes boys fore and aft."

(chorus)

Then back to his cabin he quickly crawls,
Unto the steward he loudly calls.
"Go bring me a glass that will make me cough,
for it's better weather here that it is up a loft."

(chorus)

It's we poor sailors standing on the decks,
with the blasted rain pouring down our necks.
Not a drop of grog will he do us afford,
but he damns our eyes with every other word.

(chorus)

Now there's one thing we sailors crave,
For him to find a watery grave.
We shove him down in a dark deep hole,
where the sharks will have his body and the devil take his soul.

(chorus)


Bud The Spud
- Stompin Tom Connors

(chorus)
It's Bud the spud from the bright red mud
Rollin' down the highway smilin'
The spuds are big on the back of Bud's rig
And they're from Prince Edward Island
They're from Prince Edward Island

Now from Charlottetown or from Summerside
They load 'em down for the big long ride
He jumps in the cab & he's off with the prize subegos
He's gotta catch that boat to make fun & time
Then He heads up that old New Brunswick line
To Montreal he comes just a flyin'
With another big load of potatoes

(chorus)

Now the Ontario Provincial Police don't think much of Bud
Yeah the cops have been lookin for the son of a gun
That's been rippin the tar off the 401
They Know the name of the truck shines up in the sun...
Green Gables
And he hits Toronto at seven o'clock
And he backs her up again' ther terminal dock
And the boys gather 'round just to hear him talk
About another big load of potatos

(chorus)

Now I know a lotta people from East to West
That like the spuds from the Island best
'Cause they'll stand up to the hardest test
Right on the table
So when you see that big truck come a rollin' by
Wave your hand & kinda wink your eye
'Cause that's Bud the Spud from old P.E.I.
With another big load of potatoes

(chorus)


Billy Peddle
- traditional

Billy Peddle, Billy Peddle, did you see Tom White?
Billy Peddle, Billy Peddle, did you see Tom White?
Billy Peddle, Billy Peddle, did you see Tom White?

Gone around the harbour, gonna stay all night
Gone around the harbour, gonna get a dose of beer
Gone around the harbour, gonna get away from here
Gone around the harbour, gonna have a cup of tea

If you see a Billy Peddle, tell him I wants he!


Black Velvet Band
- traditional; various versions

In a neat little town they call Belfast
Apprenticed in trade I was bound
And many an hour of sweet happiness
I spent in that neat little town
Till bad misfortune fell over me
And caused me to stray from the land
Far away from my friends and relations
To follow the black velvet band

(chorus)
Her eyes they shone like the diamond
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up in a black velvet band

Well, I was out strolling one evening
Not meaning to go very far
When I met with a pretty young damsel
She was selling her trade in a bar
When i watched, she took from a customer
And slipped it right into my hand
Then the Watch came and put me in prison
Bad luck to the black velvet band

(chorus)

Next morning before judge and jury
For our trial I had to appear
The judge, he said, "Young fellow
The case against you is quite clear
And seven long years is your sentence
You're going to Van Dieman's Land
Far away from your friends and relations
To follow the black velvet band"

(chorus)

So come all you jolly young fellows
I'd have you take warning by me
And whenever you're out on the liquor
Beware of the pretty colleen
They'll fill your with whiskey and porter
Until You're not able to stand
And the very next thing that you know my lads,
You've landed in Van Dieman's Land

(chorus)


NOTE: ** "And She Was!" often yelled aloud after "You'd think she was queen of the land" in chorus


The Bluenose
- Michael Stanbury

I got a story to tell
Of a proud ship that served her people well
Well the Bluenose was her name
And she never lost a race
She won herself a place
In the history of Canada
Blow winds blow
For the Bluenose is sailing once again

(chorus)
Beat to the windward once more
And up with the foresail as before
For your country will be proud once again
Of the ship and the men
Who sail her smartly into victory
Blow winds blow
For the Bluenose is sailing once again

Built in a Nova Scotia town
Where the shipwrights had earned a world renown
Down in Lunenburg they built a living legend
Out of skill, sweat and pride
They sailed her masterfully
Until she died
Blow winds blow
For the Bluenose is sailing once again

(chorus - repeat)


NOTE: Written for the launching of the Bluenose ll


Bluenose
- Stan Rogers

Once again with the tide she slips her lines
Turns her head and comes awake
Where she lay so still there at Privateer's Wharf
Now she quickly gathers way
She will range far south from the harbour mouth
And rejoice with every wave
Who will know the Bluenose in the sun

Feel her bow rise free of Mother Sea
In a sunburst cloud of spray
That stings the cheek while the rigging will speak
Of sea-miles gone away
She is always best under full press
Hard over as she'll lay
And who will know the Bluenose in the sun?

That proud, fast Queen of the Grand Banks Fleet
Portrayed on every dime
Knew hard work in her time...hard work in every line
The rich men's toys of the Gloucester boys
With their token bit of cod
They snapped their spars and strained to pass her by
But she left them all behind

Now her namesake remains to show what she has been
What every schoolboy remembers and will not come again
To think she's the last of the Grand Banks Schooners
That fed so many men
And who will know the Bluenose in the sun?

So does she not take wing like a living thing
Child of the moving tide
See her pass with grace on the water's face
With clean and quiet pride
Our own tall ship of great renown still lifts unto the sky
Who will know the Bluenose in the sun?


Bay of Fundy
- Gordon Bok

All you Maine-men, proud and young,
When you run your Easting down,
Don't go down to Fundy Bay,
She'll wear your time away.

Fundy's long and Fundy's wide,
Fundy's fog and rain and tide;
Never see the sun or sky,
Just the green wave going by.

Cape Sable's horn blows all day long;
Wonder why, wonder why.

Oh, you know, I'd rather ride
The Grenfell Strait or the Breton tide,
Spend my days on the Labrador,
And never see old Fundy's shore,

All my days on the Labrador,
And never see old Fundy's shore.
Cape Sable's horn blows all day long;
Wonder why, wonder why.

Give her staysail, give her main,
In the darkness and the rain;
I don't mind the wet and cold,
I just don't like the growing old.

I don't mind the wet and cold,
I just don't like the growing old.

Cape Sable's horn blows all day long;
Wonder why, wonder why.

East-by-North or East-North_East,
Give her what she steers the best;
I don't want the foggy wave
To be my far and lonely grave.

I don't want the foggy wave
To be my far and lonely grave.

Cape Sable's horn blows all day long;
Wonder why, wonder why.

Cape Breton's bells ring the swells;
Ring for me, ring for me.


Boys of Killybeggs
- Tommy Makem

There are wild and rocky hills on the coast of Donegal
And the fishermen are hearty, brave and free
And the big Atlantic swell is a thing they know right well
As they fight to take a living from the sea

(chorus)

With a pleasant, rolling sea
and the herring running free,
And the fleet all riding gently through the foam,
When the boats are loaded down
there'll be singing in the town,
When the boys of Killybegs come rolling home.

Well you've donned your rubber boots, and you've got your oil-skins on
And you check your gear to see that it's okay
And your jumper keeps you warm, for it's cold before the dawn
And you're ready to begin another day.

(chorus)

Now you're headed out to sea and the wind is running free
And you cast your nets as rain begins to fall
But the sun comes riding high and the clouds will soon go by
And today you'll maybe take a bumper haul.

(chorus)

When the weather's blowing rough and the work gets very tough
And the ropes will raise the welts upon your hands
But you'll never leave the sea for whoever you may be
When it's in your blood it's hard to live on land.

(chorus)

Well there's purple on the hills and there's green down by the shore
And the sun has spilled his gold upon the sea
And there's silver down below where the herring fishes go
When we catch them there'll be gold for you and me.

(chorus)


Blarney Roses
- traditional

(chorus)
Can anybody tell me where the Blarney Roses grow?
Some say down in Limerick Town and more say in Mayo
Somewhere in the Em'rald Isle of this I want to know
Can anybody tell me where the Blarney Roses grow?

'Twas over in old Ireland near the town of Cushendall
One morn I met a damsel there, the fairest of them all
'Twas with my young affections, and my money she did go
She told me she belonged to where the Blarney Roses grow

Her cheeks were like the roses, her hair a raven hue
Before that she was done with me, she had me raving too
She left me sorely stranded, not a coin she left you know
And she told me she belonged to where the Blarney Roses grow

(chorus)

They've Roses in Killarney and the same in County Clare
But 'pon my word those roses boys I can't see anywhere
She blarney'd me and by the powers she left me broke ho ho
Did this damsel that belonged to where the Blarney Roses grow

(chorus)

Acushla gra-machree me boys she murmured soft did she
If you belong to Ireland then yourself belongs to me
Her Donegal come all ye brogue it captured me you know
Bad scram to her and that same place where the Blarney Roses grow

(chorus)

NOTE: Also known as "Where the Blarney Roses Grow"


By Peter Kerrivan
- traditional

(chorus)
By Peter Kerrivan we are the Masterless Men,
We have no lord to serve we live by wile and nerve.
The British Navy they come in search of we,
Our trails through bog we lead,
We disappear.

Back on the Emerald Isle, the lord would sit and smile,
Taking all reward from our toil.
No more I'll serve my liege, for I've jumped ship you see.
I'll take my liberty,
And roam these shores.

(chorus)

They deemed us outlaws, we roam this Southern Shore,
Those navvy boys we rob and tease.
We steal their flour and beans, they'd take our liberty!
Those navvy boys,
They'll not catch me.

(chorus)

Back to the Butterpot, we run and duck their shot,
They'd stretch our necks on gallows high.
I'll not see Ireland's shore,
I'll toil for lords no more.
A Masterless Man,
Is the life I lead.

(chorus - Repeat Twice)


Blood Red Roses
- traditional

Our boots and clothes are all in pawn
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.
And its flamin' drafty 'round Cape Horn,
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.

(chorus)
Oh, you pinks and posies,
Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.
My dear old mother said to me,
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.
My dearest son, come home from sea.
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.

It's 'round Cape Horn we all must go
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.
'Round Cape Horn in the frost and snow.
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.

You've got your advance, and to sea you'll go
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.
To chase them whales through the frost and snow.
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.

It's 'round Cape Horn you've got to go,
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.
For that is where them whalefish blow.
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.

It's growl you may, but go you must,
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.
If you growl too much your head they'll bust.
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.

Just one more pull and that will do.
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.
For we're the boys to kick her through.
   Go down, you blood red roses, Go down.



Note: Sea Shanty, probally of Scotland or Ireland. "Red Roses" refer to British soldiers.

Black Ball Line
- traditional

I served my time on the Black Ball line
   To me way-ay-ay O Ri-o
On the Black Ball line I served my time
   Hurrah for the Black Ball line!

The Black Ball ships they are good and true
   To me way-ay-ay O Ri-o
And they are the ships for me and you.
   Hurrah for the Black Ball line!

For once there was a Black Ball ship
   To me way-ay-ay O Ri-o
That fourteen knots an hour could clip.
   Hurrah for the Black Ball line!

You will surely find a rich gold mine
   To me way-ay-ay O Ri-o
Just take a trip on the Black Ball line.
   Hurrah for the Black Ball line!

Just take a trip to Liverpool
   To me way-ay-ay O Ri-o
To Liverpool, that Yankee school.
   Hurrah for the Black Ball line!

The Yankee sailors you'll see there
   To me way-ay-ay O Ri-o
With their high-top boots and short-cut hair.
   Hurrah for the Black Ball line!



Note: Sea Shanty. "Black Ball Line" was a shipping company from the United Kingdom until the mid-1800s. It shipped cargo around the world via sailing ships.



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