Farewell To Nova Scotia
- traditional

The sun was setting in the west
The birds were singing on every tree
All nature seemed inclined to rest
But still there was no rest for me.

(chorus)
Farewell to Nova Scotia
The seabound coast
Let your mountains, dark and dreary, be
For when I am far away
On the briny ocean, tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?

I grieve to leave my native land
I grieve to leave my comrades, all
And my parents, whom I've held so dear
And the bonnie, bonnie lass I do adore

(chorus)

The drums, they do beat
The wars, they alarm
The captain calls, we must obey
So farewell, farewell to Nova Scotia's charms
For it's early in the morning and I'm far, far away

(chorus)

I have three brothers
They are at rest
Their arms are folded on their breast
And a poor old sailor such as me
Must be tossed and driven
On the deep blue sea.

(chorus)

Finnegan's Wake
- traditional

Tim Finnegan lived on Walkin' Street
A gentleman, Irish, mighty odd;
He had a brogue both rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod.
Now Tim had a sort of the tipplin' way
With a love of the whiskey he was born
And to help him on with his work each day
He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every morn.

(chorus)
Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner
Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn't it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake!

One mornin' Tim was feelin' full
His head was heavy which made him shake;
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake.
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed,
A gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head.

(chorus)

His friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch,
First they brought in tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.
Biddy O'Brien began to bawl
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
"O Tim, me friend, why did you die?"
"Arragh, hold your gob" said Paddy McGhee!

(chorus)

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
"O Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy she gave her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawlin' on the floor.
And then the war did soon engage
'Twas woman to woman and man to man,
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began.

(chorus)

Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
When a noggin of whiskey flew at him,
It missed, and falling on the bed
The liquor scattered over Tim!
Tim's corpse revives, see how he raises!
Timothy rising from the bed,
Says,"Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
Thanum an Dhul! Do you thunk I'm dead?"

(chorus)

*Note: song began as a stage song in England and was objected to by the Gaelic League. London Street Ballad


Fisherman's Wharf
- Stan Rogers

It was in the spring, this year of Grace, with new life pushing through,
That I looked from the Citadel down to the Narrows
And asked what it's coming to.
I saw Upper Canadian concrete and glass right down to the waterline.
I have heard an old song down on Fisherman's Wharf -
Can I sing it just one time?

With half-closed eyes against the sun, for the warm wind giving thanks,
I dreamed of the years of the deep-laden schooners
Thrashing home from the Grand Banks.
The last lies, done, in the harbour sun, with her picture on a dime,
But I heard an old song down on Fisherman's Wharf -
Can I sing it just one time?
Can I sing it just one time?

Then "Haul away and heave her home!" This song is heard no more.
No boats to sing it for. No sails to sing it for.
There rises now a single tide - of tourists - passing through.
We traded old ways for the new - old ways for the new -
Old ways for the new - for the new.

"Now," you ask, "what's this romantic boy, who laments what's done and gone?
There was no romance on a cold winter ocean,
And the gales sang an awful song."
But my fathers knew of wind and tide, and my blood in Maritime,
And I heard an old song down on Fisherman's Wharf -
Can I sing it just one time?
Can I sing it just one time?

And "Haul away and sheet her home!" This song is heard no more
No boats to sing it for. No sails to sing it for.
There rises now a single tide - of tourists - passing through.
We traded old ways for the new - old ways for the new -
Old ways for the new - for the new.

So it was in the spring, this year of Grace, with new life pushing through,
That I looked from the Citadel down to the Narrows
And asked what it's coming to.
I saw Upper Canadian concrete and glass right down to the waterline.
I have heard an old song down on Fisherman's Wharf -
Can I sing it just one time?
Can I sing it just one time?
Can I sing it just one time?
Can I sing it just one time?


The Feller From Fortune
(Lots of Fish in Bonvist' Harbour)
- traditional

Oh, there's lots of fish in Bonavist' Harbour,
Lots of fish right in around here.
Boys and girls are fishin' together,
Forty-five from Carbonear.

(chorus)
Oh, catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Swing around this one, dance around she.
Catch a-hold this one, catch a-hold that one,
Diddle-dum this one, diddle-dum dee.

Oh, Sally goes to church every Sunday,
Not to sing nor for to hear;
But to see the Feller From Fortune,
What was down here fishin' last year.

Oh, Uncle George got up in the mornin',
He got up in a hell of a tear,
And he ripped the seat right out of his britches;
Now he's got ne'er pair to wear.

Oh, Sally is the pride of Cat Harbour.
She ain't been swung since 'way last year,
Drinkin' rum and wine and cassie
What the boys brought home from St. Pierre.

Oh, Sally got a bouncin' new baby,
Father said that he didn't care;
Because he liked the Feller From Fortune,
What was down here fishin' last year.

Flower of Sweet Strabane
- traditional

If I were King of Ireland
And had all things at my will
I'd roam for recreation
And I'd seek for comfort still.
The comfort I would ask for,
So that you may understand
Is to win the heart of Martha,
The Flower of Sweet Strabane.

Her cheeks they are a ruby red,
Her hair a lovely brown
And o'er her milk white shoulders
It carelessly hangs down.
She is the fairest creature
And the pride of all her clan
And my heart is captivated
By the flower of Sweet Strabane.

Well I've been in the Phoenix Park
And in Killarney fair
The lovely glens of Antrim
And the winding banks of Clare.
In all my earthly travels
I never yet met one
That could compare, I do declare,
With the Flower of Sweet Strabane.

But since I cannot gain her love,
No joy there is for me
And I must seek forgetfulness
In lands across the sea.
Unless she cares to follow me,
I swear by my right hand
McKenna's face you'll ne'er more see,
My Flower of Sweet Strabane.

So its farewell to sweet Derry Quay,
New Mills and Waterside
I'll sail out o'er the ocean,
Whatever may betide.
I'll sail away from Derry Quay
Out by the Isle of Man
And I'll bid farewell to Martha,
The Flower of Sweet Strabane.


Fogarty's Cove
- Stan Rogers

We just lost sight of the Queensport light down the bay before us
And the wind has blown some cold today
With just a wee touch of snow
Along the shore from Lazy Head, hard a-beam Half Island
Tonight we let the anchore go, down in Fogarty's Cove

My Sally like a raven's wing, her hair is like her mothers
With hands that make quick work a chore
And eyes like a top of a stove
Come suppertime she'll walk the beach wrapped up in my old duffle
With her eyes upon the Masthead Reach, down in Fogarty's Cove

(chorus)
She will walk the sandy shore so plain
Watch the combers roll in
Til I come to Wild Rose Chance again
Down in Fogart's Cove

She cries when I'm away to sea, nags me when I'm with her
She'd rather I'd a government job, or maybe go on the dole
But I love her wave as I put about and nose into the channel
My Sally keeps a supper and bed for me, down in Fogarty's Cove

(chorus)


The Foggy Dew
- traditional

As down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I.
There armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum did sound its dread tatoo,
but the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell,
rang out through the foggy dew.

'Twas England bade our Wild Geese
'Go that small nations might be free,'
but their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves
or the fringe of the great North Sea. Oh, had they died by Pearse's side,
or fought with Cathal Brugha,
theire names we'd keep where the Fenians sleep,
'neath the shroud of the foggy dew.

Right proudly high over Dublin town they hung out the flag o' war,
'twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
And from the plain of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through,
while Brittania's Huns, with their great big guns,
sailed in through the foggy dew.

But the bravest fell and the requiem bell rang mournfully and clear,
for those who died that Easter tide, in the springtime of the year.
While the world did gaze with deep amaze,
at those fearless men but few, who bore the fight,
that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew.


Fox on the Run
- traditional

(chorus)
She walk through the corn leading down to the river
Her hair shone like gold in the hot morning sun
She took all the love that a poor boy could give her
And left me to die like the fox on the run
Like the fox, like the fox, like the fox, like the fox on the run

Everybody knows the reason for the fall
When woman tempted man down in paradise's hall
This woman tempted me, then took me for a ride
And like the lonely fox I need a place to hide

(chorus)

We'll pour a glass of wine to fortify our souls
We'll talk about the world and friends we used to know
I see a string of girls, who put me on the floor
The game is nearly over, the hounds are at my door

(chorus repeat)

Follow Me Up To Carlow
- traditional

Lift, Mac Cahir Oge your face
Brooding o'er the old disgrace
That Black Fitzwilliam stormed your place
And drove you to the fern, O!
Grey said victory was sure
Soon the fire-brand he'd secure
Until he met at Glenmalure
With Feagh Mac Hugh o' Byrne O!

(chorus)
Curse and swear, Lord Kildaire,
Feagh will do what Feagh will dare.
Now, Fitzwilliam, have a care,
Fallen in your star low.
Up with halberd, out with sword,
On we go for by the Lord,
Feagh Mac Hugh has given the word
"Follow me up to Carlow."

 See the swords of Glen Imaal
Flashing o'er the English Pale
See all the children of the Gael
Beneath O'Byrne's banners.
Rooster of a fighting stock
Would you let a Saxon cock
Crow out upon an Irish rock?
Fly up and teach him manners.

(chorus)

From Trassagart to Clonmore
There flows a stream of Saxon gore.
Great is Rory Oge More
At sending the loons to Hades.
White is sick and Grey is fled
Now for Black Fitzwilliam's head
We'll send it over, dripping red
To Liza and her ladies.

(chorus - Repeat Twice)

The Ferryman
- traditional

All the little boats are gone
From the breast of Anna Liffey
And the ferrymen are stranded on the quay
The Dublin docks are dying
And a way of life is gone
And Molly it was part of you and me

(chorus)
Where the strawberry beds
Sweep down to the Liffey
You'll kiss away the worries from my brow
I love you well today
And I'll love you more tomorrow
If you ever loved me Molly love me now

'Twas the only job I knew
It was hard but never lonely
The Liffey Ferry made a man of me
Now it's gone without a whisper
Forgotten even now
Sure it's over Molly over can't you see

(chorus)

Well now I spin my yarns
And spend my days in talking
I hear them whisper Charley's on the dole
But Molly we're still living
And Darling we're still young
And the river never ruled my heart or soul

(chorus)

Flower of Scotland
- Roy Williamson

O Flower of Scotland,
When will we see
Your like again,
That fought and died for,
Your wee bit Hill and Glen,
And stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
Tae think again.

The Hills are bare now,
And Autumn leaves
lie thick and still,
O'er land that is lost now,
Which those so dearly held,
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
Tae think again.

Those days are past now,
And in the past
they must remain,
But we can still rise now,
And be the nation again,
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
Tae think again.

0 Flower of Scotland,
When will we see
your like again,
That fought and died for,
Your wee bit Hill and Glen,
And stood against him,
Proud Edward's Army,
And sent him homeward,
Tae think again.



*Although "Flower of Scotland" is not a traditional song, it has been adopted as Scotland's de facto national anthem, along with "Scotland the Brave".



Fisherman's Lament
- Sean McCann & Ed McCann

I stand in my doorway as the moon rises high
Over glorious ocean, reflects the bright sky
My heart it is aching, so much I could die
I've known only the ocean, since I was a boy

(chorus)
And I spent my whole life, out there on the sea
Some government bastard now takes it from me
It's not just the fish, they've taken my pride
I feel so ashamed that I just want to hide

I fished with my father, so long long ago
We were proud of our trade, and in us it did show
We held our heads high, there was lots of fish then
That was the time, when we were proud men

We challenged great storms and sometimes we won
Faced death and disaster, we rose with the sun
We worked and we toiled, we strained our men brane
We were a proud people, will we ere be again?

(chorus)

My father is gone now, and the fish are gone too.
Abused and mis-managed, oh what can we do?
I'm too old to change, but what of my sons,
How will they know that we weren't the ones?

DFO regulations permitted the rape
Of our beautiful ocean, from head land to cape
They brought in big trollers, they tore up our twine
Politians don't care for whats yours or whats mine!

(chorus)

You brave Newfoundlanders, now listen to me
Shove the package to hell, go back to the sea
If we don't stand our ground, we will fade away
And the bones of our fathers will turn into clay

And I spent my whole life, out there on the sea
Some government bastard now takes it from me
It's not just the fish, they've taken my pride
I feel so ashamed that I just want to die.

Back to the sea.


Foggy Shores of Home
- traditional

I've sailed upon the ocean wide
I've sailed the world around
I've sailed on Barques and Brigantines
From Lisbon to St. John's
I've sailed where the ocean tossed and rolled
I've sailed where the ocean foams
I've sailed where the ice flows thunder and roll
To bring the white coats home

(chorus)
Wherever you may ramble,
Wherever you may roam.
Wherever you may be,
You'll be happy to see,
The foggy shores of home.

I've sailed down to the South Sea Isles
I've sailed where the trade winds come
I've sailed on schooners listing low
To bring home backey and rum
I've sailed to the city of New York,
To labour in the sky
High above the streets below
To home my heart would fly.

(chorus)

One day I will sail back home
To my dear foggy shore
I'll plough the ground of my home town
And go to sea no more.

(chorus)



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Fisherman's Wife
- Russell Sawler Sr.

Well it's one more time and the old man goes
The waves roll high and the cold wind blows
Hes gotta catch a fish 'cause he's fishin' for his life
But it ain't no life for the fisherman's wife

(chorus)
Fish all night hes gotta catch another one
He knows just what to do because hes done it all his life
The only job hes known and hes never known an other one
Still who thinks of the fisherman's wife

Away from the wharf and the small boat sails
The seagulls cry and the engine wails
He straightens up his net and he sharpens up his knife
And he fades from the eyes of the fisherman's wife
(Repeat first chorus)

Well we sing about the seas and we sing about the lands
And we sing about the men that make thier livin' with thier hands
The fisherman's joys and the fisherman's strife
But who will sing of the fisherman's wife

(last chorus)
She sets at home alone and she prays that he'll return again
A prisoner of the sea and she has been one all her life
Until the time arrives she will let the candle burn again
God have mercy on the fisherman's wife