Gaelic Storm
FULL IRISH
HomeNewsTourMusicPhotosVideosPress KitStoreStreet TeamBlog


Chicken BoxerSpacerCabbageSpacerWhat's The Rumpus?SpacerBring Yer Wellies
Spacer
Spacer
Spacer
Special Reserve
Release date: 8/19/2003
Track Listing:

Pat Murphy: vocals, harmonica Steve Twigger: guitar, vocals Steve Wehmeyer: bodhrán, vocals Tom Brown: Deger pipes Ryan Lacey: Percussion Deborah Clark-Colón: Fiddle Dave Pomeroy: Bass



Come single belle and beau, Unto me pay attention. Don’t ever fall in love, It’s the devil’s own invention.

Once I fell in love, With a lady so bewitching; Miss Henrietta Bell, Down in Captain Kelly’s Kitchen.



Chorus: Toura loura lie; toura loura laddy. Toura loura lie; toura loura laddy. Toura loura lie; toura loura laddy. Toura loura lie; toura loura laddy.



At the age of seventeen, I was apprentice to a grocer, Not far from Stephen’s Green, where Miss Henri used to go, sir.

Her manners were so fine. She set my heart a twitchin’. She invited me to a Courtin’ in the Kitchen!



Chorus



Next Sunday be the day that we were to have our flare up. I dressed meself quite gay, and I frizzed and oiled me hair up.

The captain had no wife, he had gone a fishin’. So we kicked up our life to a hooley in her kitchen!



Chorus



She slipped up to her room. I says, “Good Lord Almighty!” She came back down the stairs wearing nothing but her nighty!

With her arms around me waist she slyly hinted marriage. When to the door in haste came Captain Kelly’s carriage!



Chorus



Well the Captain came downstairs, though he saw me situation. In spite of all me prayers I was marched off to the station.

For me they set no bail, though to get home I was itchen’. And I had to tell the tale of how I came into that kitchen.

Well I swore she did invite me, though she gave a flat denial. Forso they did indict me and I was sent for trial.

She swore I robbed the house, in spite of all me screechin’. And I got six months hard for me courtin’ in the kitchen!


Lemme tell you a little story about a man named Johnny Tarr. He was a hard drinking son of a preacher, he was always at the bar. Lager from the tap or shots of Paddy from the shelf. He could open his throttle and throw back a bottle as quick as the devil himself. Johnny Tarr!

Word got around that Johnny Tarr was no pretender. From Clare to here they'd lock up the beer when Johnny went on a bender. Down at Dickey Mack's, the Rising Sun, or at the Swan if he was drinking at seven by ten to eleven well all the booze would be gone! Johnny Tarr!

Chorus: Even if you saw it yourself, you wouldn't believe it. And I wouldn't trust a person like me, if I were you. I wasn't there. I swear I have an alibi. I heard it from a man who knows a fellow who says it's true!


It was nine in the morning on a cold rainy night. Johnny rolled into the Castle Bar, looking to get tight. He had money in his pocket, he had whiskey in his eye. He said, "Get up off your asses and set up the glasses. I'm drinking this place dry!"


Now all the serious boozers, they were soon broken hearted when Johnny finished off six and he was only getting started.


Guzzling down the pints, knockin' em back like candy. He was lookin' alright to be drinkin' all night, then Nora brought out the Brandy! Johnny Tarr!


Chorus



Johnny drank the whole damn bottle, had another pint or two. When it made no impression he started his session with Murphy's Millenium Brew. He was waiting for his pint when his face turned green Jesus, Johnny fell down after only fifteen!


You could have heard a pin drop, then the crowd let out a ROAR! It took five Cork women to lift Johnny off the floor! The doctor looked him over and said, "you better call the hearse, but it's not what you're thinkin'. It wasn't the drinkin'! This man died of thirst!!"




Pat Murphy: accordion, spoons Steve Twigger: guitar, bouzouki Steve Wehmeyer: bodhrán Tom Brown: highland pipes Ryan Lacey: Percussion Deborah Clark-Colón: Fiddle


Fare thee well to Prince's Landing Stage. Mersey River, fare thee well.Well, I am bound for California, but I know that I'll return someday.



Chorus:So fare thee well, my own true love. When I return united we will be. It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me, but my darling when I think of thee.



Oh, I have signed on the yankee sailin' ship. Davy Crockett is her name. And Burgess is the captain of her, and they say that she’s a floatin’ shame.



Chorus



Oh, I have sailed w/ this Burgess once before, and I think that I know him quite well. For if a man is a sailor, he can get along. If not, he's in a floating Hell



Chorus



The sun is on the harbor, love. And I wish that I could be thain. Because I know it will be some long, long time before we see you again.

Drink The Night Away
After Hours at McGann's
Swimmin' In The Sea

Steve Wehmeyer: vocals, bodhrán Pat Murphy: vocals, accordion Steve Twigger: vocals, guitar Tom Brown: Deger pipes Ryan Lacey: Percussion Deborah Clark-Colón: Fiddle



Chorus:

I am a weaver, a Calton weaver. I am a brash and a roving blade. I have silver in my britches. And I follow a roving trade



Chorus



As I walked into Glasgow city. Nancy Whiskey I did smell. I walked in, sat down beside her. Seven long years I loved her well.



Chorus



The more I kissed her, the more I knew her. The more I loved her, the more she smiled. I forgot my mother's teaching, Nancy soon had me beguiled.



Chorus



Woke up early in the mornin', lying half way off the bed. I tried to rise but was not able. Nancy damb near knocked me dead.



Chorus



I'll gang back to the Calton weaving; surely make those shuttles fly. I'll make more at the Calton weaving than ever I did in a roving way.



Chorus



So come all ye weavers, ye Calton weavers, all ye weavers where e're ye be. Beware of Whiskey, Nancy Whiskey. She'll ruin you like she ruined me!

She Was The Prize
Johnny Jump Up / Morrison's Jig
Titanic Set
Tell Me Ma
The Beggarman



 


Facebook
Twitter Instagram Youtube

Website & Contents © Gaelic Storm.         Privacy Policy | Terms of Use | Contact


Powered by BubbleUp
Jukebox