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Post by katycarl on Oct 23, 2007 15:35:13 GMT -5
Ms. E. Donlon has just had a fabulous idea off-list, which with or without her permission I am scrambling to share:
For kicks and giggles, let us have amongst ourselves an Irish drinking song-writing competition! (To clarify that long list of modifiers: the competition is to write the best Irish drinking song, not to write the best song in general while drinking and being Irish. Although it might be open to such interpretations.)
Let the competition commence!
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Post by ebdonlon on Oct 24, 2007 6:59:37 GMT -5
Huzzahs for my ideas with Katy approval!
I will just add a note -- instructions for the motions of the song (now clap, now drink, now knock the person next to you over...) should also be included!
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Post by syme on Oct 24, 2007 11:13:35 GMT -5
I'd love to participate but I know little of Irish drinking songs, to be honest. My apologies for not being Irish!
Seriously, though, how about one of you to gets us started? That way I'd have a model to work from.
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Post by syme on Oct 27, 2007 23:28:29 GMT -5
So, what gives? You can't go around proposing contests and then not participating! I want some songs! I'd love to add my own but I can't do that until I have some notion of what I'm SUPPOSED to be doing. So Ms. Donlon and Ms. Carl, please lead the way!
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Post by ebdonlon on Oct 28, 2007 15:15:29 GMT -5
I am not at all adept at this (which is why I encouraged other people to do it), but here's a rough sample of what I mean: An Irish Woman's Wroth Do you remember Young Charley O'Bierne Who courted young Erin McCabe? The boy would not be wed Till she cracked ope' his head (hit your neighbor over the head, lightly) And took the boy, meek as a babe.
Oh, you dance with the bands (dance) And you shout and wave your hands (shout and wave hands) And do it when that note comes again (echo "comes again") Only fools can scoff Of an Irish woman's wroth (stamp feet) So just drink when you hear the refrain, boys! (drink) Oh, just drink when you hear the refrain. (and drink again)
Tommy O'Calaghan And young Sean McBane Told stories of Sally O'Gowan Their jaws were both broke (sock your neighbors on the jaw...again, lightly!) And they never dare spoke Of the girl who had whipped them both sound.
Oh, you dance with the bands (dance) And you shout and wave your hands (shout and wave hands) And do it when that note comes again (echo "comes again") Only fools can scoff Of an Irish woman's wroth (stamp feet) So just drink when you hear the refrain, boys! (drink) Oh, just drink when you hear the refrain. (and drink again)
Molly McCullough Saw Joseph Muldoon A'Kissing with Katie McKeys (mock-kisses all around) Molly boxed Joey's ears (box your neighbors ears...lightly, unless he deserves worse) And left Katie in tears And dragged the poor boy to a priest (drag your neighbor to the nearest cleric and buy said cleric a drink)
Oh, you dance with the bands (dance) And you shout and wave your hands (shout and wave hands) And do it when that note comes again (echo "comes again") Only fools can scoff Of an Irish woman's wroth (stamp feet) So just drink when you hear the refrain, boys! (drink) Oh, just drink when you hear the refrain. (and drink again)Now, go ye and do likewise, only better!
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Post by jwalker on Oct 30, 2007 20:58:15 GMT -5
There is a kind of merry war betwixt E. B. Donlon and myself regarding the excellences of our respective heritages (hers, Irish; mine, Scottish). This (poor!) submission to the Irish Drinking Song contest represents my latest volley. Buaidh na bas'! ;D
Paddy O’Brien met Angus McAlister Sittin’ on Hadrian’s wall. “Angus,” says he, “‘Tis my belief That Erin’s the fairest of all.”
(Oh, Erin’s the fairest of all! Yes, Erin’s the fairest of all!)
The Glaswegian regarded Pad dourly From beneath bristling brows. “Awa wi’ ye, mon And ken, if ye can, That it’s really the Scottish who wow!”
(Oh, it’s really the Scottish who wow! Yes, it’s really the Scottish who wow!)
“Can ye wear tartan” Ang queried, “Or toss cabers wi’out getting hurt? Can ye golf wi’ a curl All while céilidhing your girl And do ye look good in a skirt?”
(Oh, do you look good in a skirt? Yes, do you look good in a skirt?)
Paddy, he mused for a moment And sighed as the gorse he did drub “True, at most things we stink But the Irish can drink So let’s make our way into the pub!”
(Oh, let’s make our way into the pub! Yes, let’s make our way into the pub!)
So, Scots, now comes the moral of my story: We like the Hibernians weel! But, when charity fails Think, “At least they’re not Welsh!” And drink to those fine, bonnie Gaels!
(Oh, drink to those fine, bonnie Gaels! Yes, drink to those fine, bonnie Gaels!)
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Post by ebdonlon on Oct 30, 2007 21:34:51 GMT -5
I said "IRISH Drinking Songs". Of course, everyone knows that the Scots are really Irishmen who are not man enough to admit it. So I suppose we won't dexterously "Highland fling" you out of here... Just remember -- Is minic a bhris béal duine a shrón!
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Post by jwalker on Oct 30, 2007 21:41:53 GMT -5
But it is an Irish drinking song! I could have sworn I referenced a Paddy in there somewhere...
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Post by Bernardo on Oct 30, 2007 21:42:03 GMT -5
Yes, yes, but everyone knows you all just want to be... Colombian?
Behold!, the world's first Colombo-Irish drinking song:
THE GALLAGHER GIRLS
Oh! The Gallagher girls, Are the eight pretty pearls That Ol' Gallagher hides in his shed. Shed! (shouting)
In a shed down the dale Where he keeps them most pale Hid away from the sun and the sea. Sea! (shouting)
And though lovely they look Shuttered up in their nook, They'd look lovelier dancing with me. Me! (shouting, every man pounds his chest once)
Oooooh! Ol' Gallagher hides his pearls! He hides them far from the sea! Why? (shouting) He hides them 'cause the sea runs foul with foreigners like me! Buuuuut... Worry not Ol' Gallagher! And merrily take a swill! (everyone takes a drink) 'Cause! (shouting) I'll only take a single pearl to that church up the hill!
Oh! The Gallagher girls Flaunt their fiery curls, When they're tending to Gallagher's sheep. Sheep? (shouting)
And I look from the knoll, As I study their soul, And I wonder which one I like most. Toast! (shouting, everyone toasts and takes a drink)
I like Mary, I do! Jane, Claire, and Molly too! But it's Katie I'll take when I sail! Ale! (shouting, everyone drinks)
Oooooh! Ol' Gallagher hides his pearls! He hides them far from the sea! Why? (shouting) He hides them 'cause the sea runs foul with foreigners like me! Buuuuut... Worry not Ol' Gallagher! And merrily take a swill! (everyone takes a drink) 'Cause! (shouting) I'll only take a single pearl to that church up the hill!
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Post by ebdonlon on Oct 30, 2007 22:04:04 GMT -5
We really should take this on the road. All we need is a song-writer. We'll be famous inside a week! We should call ourselves "The Meltingpot" and we'll be well loved for our [fill in the blank nationality] drinking songs medleys!
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Post by Bernardo on Oct 31, 2007 11:44:20 GMT -5
DT editor Joe McDonough studied music, and he seems pretty Irish to me. Maybe he can come up with some tunes and we can start Dappled Things: The Band.
Dappled Things, by the way, is not a bad alternative to "The Meltingpot" if you think about it. I can see it now: the crowds, the Guinness! When do we go on tour?
I was thinking we should post these up on the Dappled Things Fan Club on Facebook. Maybe we can get some of the members there that don't come to the forums to make their own submission.
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Post by katycarl on Oct 31, 2007 21:11:48 GMT -5
Hahah, guys, these are AWESOME. (Mine is still incubating, hee.) I totally agree, they deserve to be posted on Facebook...
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Post by raindear on Jan 10, 2008 15:22:51 GMT -5
This is a bit late in coming, but I give you my submission:
Ale in the Hills by the Sea
I met a lightsome lass In the hills by the sea And she sang right bonnily (Ay, she sang right bonnily, clap) There on the braes o’ grass Where her father’s kine did sleep
I offered her a drop In the hills by the sea And it proved a happy thought (Ay, it proved a happy thought, clap) For beside me she did stop And from me didn’t stray
My choicest ale we shared In the hills by the sea As I told her tales right bold (Ay, tales right bold, clap) Of what I was prepared To do for her sweet face
Says she, you are most kind In the hills by the sea And your boldness I do need (Ay, my boldness she did need, clap) For my father he did bind Me to marry a muckle fool
Well the lass she did not lie In the hills by the sea For the man was muckle indeed (Ay, the man was muckle indeed, clap) And I beheld him with a sigh As he came over the lee
Then I choked upon my drink In the hills by the sea As he bellowed oan angry oath (Ay, he bellowed an angry oath, clap) Sure I wanted to shrink As he swung his shillelagh at me.
But the ale was e’r my aid In the hills by the sea For he slipped upon that bottle (Ay, he slipped upon that bottle, clap) And I fled away with the maid While he lay like a great felled tree
And we married and built a fine house (Aye, we married and built a fine house, clap) Away from the hills by the sea
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pauls
Junior Member
Posts: 23
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Post by pauls on Jan 12, 2008 19:07:34 GMT -5
Kudos to all the above. Love 'em!
I'm not sure mine counts...it's not really 'a song', I really have not a clue...but I figured what the hey, I had fun writing it.
O Hara's Evening Ale
Now Billy, Billy O Hara would always say sometin’ te scare ya, and that was when he was sobra. But when downing ales, folk’d get wary; some folk’d high-tail it out o’ the pub, for it was then that he really got scary.
(For then he really got scary! Hairy!) Mess your hair
Billy O Hara, O Billy, had smouldering eyes that scorched, and ‘is brain was a blazing torch. Rumour was, when he drank alone, as the hops fumed from his sinus, ‘tis said in equal portions with ale he took in Thomas Aquinas.
(With ale, he took in Thomas Aquinas! Sinus!) Tap side of head
Problem he had, that Billy, O Hara Hara Billy. For with ale and Summa, happy as an elf, he passed his evenings and ended ope thinking he thought those thoughts by himself.
(O! He thought he thought those thoughts by himself!) Slap neighbour in face softly
So Billy O Hara that Billy, he went to a doctor named Willy who had framed on his wall such things as made Billy think him a dilly; and of Billy, Ole Willy thought the same thing.
(Willy thought the same thing! Bling!) Rub chin with hand ponderously
For what Billy said was, ‘Doc! Help me from this knock! In the eve I sit as happy as an elf, drink ale and read Summa Theologica ‘til, with nary a tut-tut, I think I thought those thoughts by myself!' To which Ole Willy said, ‘Summa what?’
(Ole Willy said Summa what! Tut, Tut-tut-tut!) Stand erect and stamp feet
And Billy, that O Hara of a dilly, he sprang up from that couch and flipped, he danced a jig and laughed and dipped, and yelled, ‘Thank ee Willy, I’m cured!’ And Doctor Willy said, ‘You sure?’ ‘Yes, for you made me think, it just occurred, Aquinas says in Article…’
Then Billy, he took Aquinas on his word, (He took Aquinas on his word! Bird!) Long whistle and left the doctor’s den, and, heeding another doctor instead, went to his pub and lass and friends.
(Went to his pub and lass and friends! Wends!) Chug ale
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Post by syme on Jan 24, 2008 22:59:32 GMT -5
These last two are great, and the mixture of ale and Thomas Aquinas is just brilliant! Seriously, who can set these to music? We really should market a CD. You guys think the band Scythian might be interested? Anyone know who we could get in contact with them? I'm not even totally kidding. I think this CD could be really wonderful.
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