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The Old Songs
(Bob
Copper and Peter Bellamy)
Oh, you may moan, with plaintive tone, your gormless modern tune,
But I will roar along the shore beneath
a blood red moon,
And songs that Nelson's sailors sang shall ring across the wave,
And a fifty thousand sailor men will
join the chorus brave --
A chorus brave and tarry that savours of the sea,
And a fifty thousand sailor men will rise
to sing with me.
Cho: The old songs, yes, the old songs, that gave our fathers joy --
The
songs they sang till the welkin rang when Nelson was a boy.
Or in the dusty sunlit barn, a farmer's song I'll sing,
A
country rhyme to a rhythmic time, of flails do pump and swing,
Full up and down the threshin' floor to win the golden grain,
And
a fifty thousand thresher men will join the bold refrain --
A bold refrain and fearless that's springs from English soil,
And
a fifty thousand thresher men will join my song of toil
Or in the depths of cellar cool, reclining for a bench,
When
I've dispersed an honest thirst that ale alone can quench,
I'll wake the vaulted echoes wide in praise of barley-brew,
And
a fifty thousand drinking men will join the chorus true --
A chorus true and hearty, of hops and barley malt,
And a
fifty thousand drinking men will prove they're worth their salt
They will echo onward down the years and never, ever
fade,
For fifty thousand singing men will never be afraid
For to raise their lusty voices, their spirits to revive,
And
tell to all eterni-tie, "We're glad that we're alive."
As sung by Peter Bellamy on
"Songs an' Rummy Conjurin' Tricks,"
Fellside Records. FSC. 5
(cassette)
The New St. George
(Richard Thompson)
The time has come for action
Leave your satisfaction
Can't you hear St. George's tune
St. George's tune is calling
you on?
Freedom was your mother
Fight for one another
Leave the factory, leave the forge
And dance to the new
St. George
Don't believe pretenders
Who say they would defend us
While they flash their teeth and wave
The
other hand is being paid
They choke the air and bleed us
These noble men who lead us
Leave the factory, leave the
forge
And dance to the new St. George
The fish and fowl are ailing
The farmer's life is failing
Where are
all the backroom boys?
The backroom boys can't save us now
We're poisoned by the greedy
Who plunder on the needy
Leave
the factory, leave the forge
And dance to the new St. George
As sung by Richard Thompson on
Henry the Human Fly
Island Records ILPS-9197/IRSP-20 1972
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