And it's goodbye, Juliana
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
And it's farewell, Juliana
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
I am bound for to leave you
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
Oh, I am bound for to leave you
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
And it's get by things in order
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
For the packet rides tomorrow
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
And it's Shallow in the morning
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
Just as the day is dawning
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
And it's goodbye, Juliana
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
And it's farewell, Juliana
Shallow, oh Shallow Brown
Gather round you sailors and listen to me
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
Ne'er take a young girl on your knee
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
Oh you pinks and posies
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
Them Liverpool girls ain't got no comb
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
They comb their hair with a kipper backbone
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
Oh you pinks and posies
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
The wind blows cold around Cape Horn
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
And there ain't no girls to keep you warm
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
Oh you pinks and posies
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
When I was a young man in my prime
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
I took them pretty girls nine at a time
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
Oh you pinks and posies
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
But now I'm old and getting grey
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
I can hardly manage one a day
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
Oh you pinks and posies
Go down you blood red roses, go down!
Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
He was fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on a carousel of time
We can't return, we can only look
Behind from where we came
And go round and round in the circle game
And the child he tiptoed ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
And words like "when you're older" must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams
Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town
And they tell him "Take your time, it won't be long now
Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down"
The years spin by and now the boy is twenty
And the dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams, and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through
Joni Mitchell
Some bright morning when this life is over
I'll fly away
To that home on God's celestial shore
I'll fly away
I'll fly away, O Glory
I'll fly away (In the morning)
When I die, Halleluia, by and by
I'll fly away
When the shadows of this life are gone
I'll fly away
Like a bird from these prison walls I'll fly
I'll fly away
I'll fly away, O Glory
Oh, how glad and happy when we meet
I'll fly away
No more cold iron shackles on my feet
I'll fly away
I'll fly away, O Glory
Just a few more weary days and then
I'll fly away
To a land where joys will never end
I'll fly away
I'll fly away, O Glory
I'll fly away (In the morning)
When I die, Halleluia, by and by
I'll fly away
Albert E Brumley
As I went home on a Monday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door where my old horse should be
Well I calls me wife and I says to her, Would you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside my house where my old horse should be?
Well you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool
Until you cannot see
That is a lovely sow that my mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before
As I went home on a Tuesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door where my old coat should be
Well I calls me wife and I says to her, Would you kindly tell to me
Who owns that coat behind the door where my old coat should be?
Well you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool
Until you cannot see
That is a lovely blanket that my mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But buttons on a blanket sure I never saw before
As I went home on a Wednesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe upon the chair where my old pipe should be
Well I calls me wife and I says to her, Would you kindly tell to me
Who owns that pipe upon the chair where my old pipe should be?
Well you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool
Until you cannot see
That is a lovely tin whistle that my mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before
As I went home on a Thursday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be
Well I calls me wife and I says to her, Would you kindly tell to me
Who owns those boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be?
Well you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool
Until you cannot see
They are two lovely geranium pots that my mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But laces in geranium pots I never saw before
As I went home on a Friday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head inside the bed where my old head should be
Well I calls me wife and I says to her, Would you kindly tell to me
Whose is that head inside the bed where my old head should be?
Well you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool
Until you cannot see
That is a baby boy that my mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before
As I went home on Saturday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a hand upon her breast where my old hand should be
Well I calls me wife and I says to her, Would you kindly tell to me
Whose is that hand upon your breast where my old hand should be?
Well you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool
Until you cannot see
That is a lovely nightgown that my mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a nightgown with fingers sure I never saw before
As I went home on a Sunday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a thing between her legs where my old thing should be
Well I calls me wife and I says to her, Would you kindly tell to me
Whose is that thing between her legs where my old thing should be?
Well you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool
Until you cannot see
That is a lovely shillelagh that my mother sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But testicles on a shillelagh sure I never saw before
Alternative last verse:
As I went home on a Sunday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a man run out the door a little after three
Well I calls me wife and I says to her, Would you kindly tell to me
Who was that man ran out the door a little after three?
Well you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool
Until you cannot see
That is a tax collector that the English sent to me
Well it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But an Englishman that could last all night sure I never saw before
I like the flowers and I like the trees
I like the woodlands and the bees
I like the Byrds on their LPs
And I'm a refugee
I wanna be a mole in a hole digging low and slow
I wanna be a fly flying high in the sky
I wanna be a mole in a hole digging low and slow
I wanna be a fly flying high in the sky
I had a friend just as wise as Mr Wise Owl
He could count from one to ten, from A to Z
My friend he was so wise he got religion
That's why I'm alive today and he is dead
I wanna be a mole in a hole...
I had a friend who had a friend in Jesus
He used to read the good book every day
My friend he got so friendly with friend Jesus
Friend Jesus took my only friend away
I wanna be a mole in a hole...
My feet are smelly and my hair's a mess
My teeth are yellow and I've got bad breath
I may look great but I feel like death
And I'm a refugee
I wanna be a mole in a hole digging low and slow
I wanna be a fly flying high in the sky
I wanna be a mole in a hole digging low and slow
I wanna be a fly flying high in the sky
Mike Waterson
Guitar chords for Mole in a Hole
C
I like the flowers and I like the trees
G7 C
I like the woodlands and the bees
C
I like the Byrds on their LPs
G7 C
And I'm a refug-e-e
C Dm7
I wanna be a mole in a hole, digging low and slow
F G7 C
I wanna be a fly flying high in the sky
C Dm7
I wanna be a mole in a hole, digging low and slow
F G7 C
I wanna be a fly flying high in the sky
We're a'met the-gither here to sit and to crack
Wi' oor glasses in oor hands and oor wark upon oor back
And there's no'a trade among them a' can either mend or mak
If it wasna for the wark o' the weavers
If it wasna for the weavers what could we do?
We wouldna ha'e claith made o'oor woo'
We wouldna ha'e a coat, neither black nor blue
Gin it wasna for the wark o' the weavers
The hireman chiels they moch us and crack aye aboot's
They say that we are thin faced, bleached like cloots
But yet for a' their mockery they canna dae withoot's
Na! They canna want the wark o' the weavers
If it wasna for the weavers what could we do?...
There's oor wrichts and oor slaters and glaziers and a'
Oor doctors and oor ministers and them that lives by law
And oor friends in South Americay, though them we never saw
But we ken they wear the wark o' the weavers
If it wasna for the weavers what could we do?...
There's oor sailors and oor sodgers, we ken they're a'bau'd
But if they hadna claithes, faith, they couldna fecht for cauld
The high, the low, the rich and puir, a 'body young and auld
They winna want the wark o' the weavers
If it wasna for the weavers what could we do?...
There's folk that's independent o' other tradesmen's wark
The women need nae barbers and the dyker needs nae clerk
But nane o' them can dae withoot a coat or a sark
Na! They canna want the wark o' the weavers
If it wasna for the weavers what could we do?...
The weaving is a trade that never can fail
As lang's we need ae cloot to keep anither hale
So let us aye be merry ower a bicker o' guid ale
And drink tae the wark o' the weavers
If it wasna for the weavers what could we do?
We wouldna ha'e claith made o'oor woo'
We wouldna ha'e a coat, neither black nor blue
Gin it wasna for the wark o' the weavers
The Work Of The Weavers
We're all met together here to sit and to crack
With our glasses in our hands and our work upon our back
There's nae a trade among them that can mend or can mack
If it was nae for the work o' the weavers.
If it was nae for the weavers what would we do?
We would nae hae clae's made of oor woo'
We would nae hae a coat neither black nor blue
If it was nae for the work of the weavers
There's soldiers, and there's sailors and glaziers and a'
There's doctors and there's meenisters, and them that live by law
And our friends in South America, though them we never saw
But we know they wear the work o' the weavers
If it was nae for the weavers what would we do?
We would nae hae clae's made of oor woo'
We would nae hae a coat neither black nor blue
If it was nae for the work of the weavers
The weaving is a trade that never can fail
As long as we need clothes for to keep another hale
So let us all be merry o'er a pitcher of good ale
And we'll drink to the health of the weavers
If it was nae for the weavers what would we do?
We would nae hae clae's made of oor woo'
We would nae hae a coat neither black nor blue
If it was nae for the work of the weavers
Oh you can't put your muck in our dustbin, our dustbin
Oh you can't put your muck in our dustbin, our dustbin's full
Fish and chips and vinegar, vinegar, vinegar
Fish and chips and vinegar, salt and pepper on the lot
One bottle of beer, 2 bottle of beer, 3 bottle of beer, 4 bottle of beer,
5 bottle of beer, 6 bottle of beer, 7 bottle of beer, 8.
They pave paradise, put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique and a swinging hot spot
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got till it's gone?
They pave paradise, put up a parking lot
They took all the trees, put 'em in a tree museum
And they charged all the people a dollar and a half just to see 'em
Don't it always seem to go...
Hey farmer, farmer, put away the DDT now
Give me spots on my apples, but leave me the birds and the bees - please!
Don't it always seem to go...
Late last night I heard the screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi took away my old man
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got till it's gone?
They pave paradise, put up a parking lot
Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you've got till it's gone?
They pave paradise, put up a parking lot
Joni Mitchell
Guitar chords for Big Yellow Taxi
A E
They pave paradise put up a parking lot
A B7 E
With a pink hotel, a boutique and a swinging hot spot
E
Don't it always seem to go that you
A E
Don't know what you've got till it's gone
A B7 E
They pave paradise put up a parking lot
Come all you jolly ploughboys
Come listen to me lays
And join with me in chorus
And I'll sing the ploughboy's praise
My song is of the ploughboy's fame
And unto you I'll relate the same
He whistles, sings, and drives his team
The brave ploughing boy
So early in the morning the ploughboy he is seen
He hastens to the stable
His horses for to clean
Their manes and tails he will comb straight
With chaff and corn he does them bait
Then he'll endeavour to plough straight
The brave ploughing boy
Now all things being ready
And the harvest that's put o
All with a shining countenance
His work he will pursue
The small birds sing on every tree
The cuckoo joins sweet harmony
To welcome in as you may say
The brave ploughing boy
So early in the mornings
To harrow, plough, and sow
And with a gentle cast me boys
Will give the corn a throw
Which makes the valleys thick to stand
With corn to fill the reapers hand
All this you well may understand
Comes from the ploughing boy
Now the corn it is a-growing
And the seed time that's all o'er
Our master he does welome us
And unlocks the cellar door
With cake and ale we'll have our fill
Because we've done our work so well
There's none here can excel the skill
Of the brave ploughing boy