Johnny Jump Up

by DruidSong

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about

DruidSong is back.

"Johnny Jump Up", my second CD, is a collection of vocals drawn primarily from traditional Irish and Scottish sources. they range from comedic to romantic to tragic, reflecting the breadth of the Celtic music experience.

In this second CD, there a several people I need to acknowledge and thank:

Lou Anschuetz is one of my oldest friends. (He’s younger than me, but he’s been a friend for a long time. You know what I mean?) Lou’s patience and dedication in recording and mixing is really what made this album possible. Thanks, Lou.

My wife has suffered through the creative process with me. There were probably times when she felt like shooting me and didn’t. I love you!

Several other friends put a chunk of time into reviewing and commenting on the music presented here. These include Agnes, Jim and Marybeth. Thanks for your input, folks. It really helps.

credits

released June 23, 2009

All arrangements © DruidSong Productions, 2009
® Reproduction rights reserved Druidsong Productions2009
Lyrics for “Back Home in Derry” © The Bobby Sand Trust
Music for “Back Home in Derry © Gordon Lightfoot
“Donald, Where’s Yer Troosers” © Grant/Stewart



Recorded by : Lou Anschuetz
Mixed by: Lou Anschuetz

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Track Name: Johnny Jump Up
Let me tell you a story that happened to me as I ent for a walk down in Cork by the sea
Oh the sun it was hot and the day it was warm, Says I, “A quiet pint wouldn’t do me no harm.”
I went in and I asked for a bottle of stout. Says the barman, “I’m sorry. All the beer is sold out.”
“I’ve whiskey and paddy, ten years in the wood!” Says I, “I’ll try cider. I’ve heard that it’s good.”

Chorus:

Oh never, oh never, oh never again! If I live to be a hundred or a hundred and ten!
I fell to the floor and I couldn’t get up After drinking a pint of that Johnny Jump Up.

After downing the third, I went out to the yard, where I bumped into Brody, the big Civic Guard
“Come here to me bit! Don’t you know I’m the law?” So I up with my fist and I shattered his jaw
He fell to the ground with his knees doubled up, But it wasn’t me hit him, it was Johnny Jump Up
The next thing I remember down in Cork by the Sea was a cripple on crutches who says to me
I’m afraid all me life I’ll be hit by a car. Won’t you help me across to the Celtic Knot Bar
After downing a quart of that cider so sweet,
He threw down his crutches and he danced in the street

Well, I went down the lea road, a friend for to see. They call it the madhouse in Cork by the sea
And when I got there, sure the truth I will tell, they had this poor bugger locked up in a cell
Says the guard testing him, say these words, if you can,
“Around the ragged rock the ragged rascal ran.”
Tell him I’m not crazy; tell him I’m not mad. It was only a sip of that cider I had.

Well a man died in the mines by the name of McNab.
They washed him and laid him outside on a slab.
And after their measures the parlor did take, his wife took him home for a bloody fine wake.
‘Twas about twelve o’clock and the beer it was high when the corpse sits up and says with a sigh
I can’t get to Heaven; they won’t let me up ‘til I bring them a quart of that Johnny Jump Up.

So if ever you go down there to Cork by the sea, stay out of the alehouse and take it from me.
If you want to stay sane, don’t you dare drink a drop
Of that devil drink cider called Johnny Jump Up!
Track Name: Donald, Where's Yer Troosers
I just came down from the Isle of Skye. I’m kind o’ big, but I’m awful shy
An the lasses shout as I go by, “Donald, where’s yer troos?”

Chorus:

May the wind blow high, may the wind blow low Through the streets in my kilt I’ll go
And all the lasses shout “Hello! Donald, where’s your troosers?”

I went to a fancy ball, but it was slippery in the hall
And I was feared that I would fall, because I had nae troos.

I went down to London town to have a little fun in the underground
The ladies turned their heads around, saying, “Donald, where’s yer troos?”

The lasses love me, every one, but they must catch me if they can.
You canna put breecks on a Highland Man! I will nae wear the troos.
Track Name: Bold Fenian Men
It was down by the glenside I met an old woman
A-pickin’ young nettles and she nare saw me comin’
I listened a while to the song she was hummin’
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian Men.

It’s fifty long years since I saw the moon beamin’
On strong manly forms, and eyes with hope gleamin’
I see them again in all my sad dreamin’
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian Men.

When I was a young girl their marchin’ and drillin’
Awoke in the glenside sounds awesome and thrillin’
They loved dear old Ireland and to die they were willin’
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian Men.

Some died by the glenside, some died amid strangers
And wise men ha’ told us their cause was a failure
But they stood by dear Ireland. They never feared danger
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian Men.

I passed on my way. God be praised that I met her.
Be life long or short, sure I’ll never forget her
We may ha’ good men, but we never had better.
Glory-o, glory-o to the bold Fenian Men.
Track Name: The Moonshiner
I’ve been a moonshiner for many a year. I’ve spent all me money on whiskey and beer
I’ll go to some hollow and I’ll set up my still and I’ll make you a gallon for a ten shilling bill.

Chorus:

I’m a rambler. I’m a gambler. I’m a long ways from home
And if you don’t like me, well, leave me along
I’ll eat when I’m hungry. I’ll drink when I’m dry
And if moonshine don’t kill me, I’ll live ‘til I die.

I’ll go to some hollow in this country. Ten gallons of wash, I can go on a spree
No women to follow, the world is all mine For I love none so well as I love the moonshine.

Oh moonshine, dear moonshine, oh how I love thee
You killed me old father and now you’ll try me.
Oh, bless all moonshiners and bless all moonshine
For its breath smells as sweet as the dew on the vine.

There’s moonshine for Molly, moonshine for May
Moonshine for Jim, and he’ll sing all the day.
Moonshine for me breakfast, moonshine for me tea
Moonshine, me hearties, it’s moonshine for me.
Track Name: Cockles and Mussels
In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty
It was there that I met my sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying “Cockles and Mussels, alive, alive-o”

Chorus:

Alive, alive-o. Alive, alive-o.
Crying, “Cockles, Mussels, alive, alive-o”

She was a fishmonger, and, sure, ‘twas no wonder
For so were her father and mother before.
And they both wheeled their barrows through streets broad and narrow
Crying, “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o”

And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
Now her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying, “Cockles, mussels, alive, alive-o”
Track Name: Roddy McCorley
Oh see the fleet foot host of men who speed with faces wan
From farmstead and from fisher's cot along the banks of Bann
They come with vengeance in their eyes. Too late, too late are they
For young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the Bridge of Toome today.

Up the narrow streets he stepped smiling proud and young
About the hemp rope on his neck the golden ringlets hung
There is never a tear in his blue eyes both glad and bright are they
As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

When he last stepped up that street his shining pike in hand
Behind him marched in grim array, a stalwart earnest band
"For Antrim Town! For Antrim Town! He led them to the fray
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the Bridge of Toome today.

There is never a one of all your dead more bravely fell in fray
Than he who marches to his fate on the bridge of Toome today
True to the last, true to the last he treads the upward way
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the Bridge of Toome today.
Track Name: Back Home in Derry
In eighteen-oh-three we sailed out to sea, out from the sweet town of Derry
For Australia bound if we didn’t all drown, and the marks of our fetters we carried
In our rusty iron chains, said “Good-bye” to our we’ans, and the sweet wives we left in sorrow
Wild curses we hurled as the mainsails unfurled at the English and thought of tomorrow.

Chorus:

Oh, oh, oh, oh, I wish I were back home in Derry
Oh, oh, oh, oh, I wish I were back home in Derry.


At the mouth of the Foyle, bid farewell to the soil, as down below decks we were lying.
O’Doughterty screamed ‘wakened out of a dream by a vision of bold Robert dying.
The sun served us cruel as we served out the gruel. O’Conner was down with the fever
Sixty rebels today sailed for Botany Bay. How many will reach their receiver?

We cursed them to Hell as our bow fought the swell. Our ship danced like a moth in the fire light
White horses rode high as the Devil passed by, taking souls down to Hades by twilight.
Five weeks out to sea, we were now forty-three. We buried our comrades each morning.
And in our own slime, we were lost in a time, endless night without dawning.

Now Van Dieman’s land is the Hell for a man to live out his whole life in slavery,
Where the climate is raw and the gun makes the law. Neither wind nor rain care for bravery.
Twenty years have gone by, and I’ve ended me bond. My comrade’s ghosts walk behind me.
A rebel I came and I’ll die just the same. On the cold winds of night you will find me.
Track Name: I'll Tell Me Ma
Chorus:

I’ll tell me ma when I get home, the boys won’t leave the girls alone.
Pulled my hair, and stole my comb, but that’s all right ‘til I get home.
She is handsome, she is pretty, she is the belle of Belfast City.
She is courting, one, two, three. Please, won’t you tell me who is she?

Albert Moony says he loves her. All the boys are fightin’ for her.
They knock at the door and the ring at the bell, sayin’ “Oh, my true love, are ya well?”
Out she comes, as white as the snow, rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Jenny Murray says she’ll die if she doesn’t get the fella with the rovin’ eye.

May the wind and the rain and the hail blow high and the snow come a tumblin’ from the sky.
She’s as nice as apple pie, and she’ll get her own lad bye and bye.
When she gets a lad of her own, she won’t tell her Ma when she goes home.
Let them all come as they will, it’s Albert Moony she loves still.
Track Name: The Barley Grain for Me
The rich man went up to market, to sell three wagons of rye.
The tide goes in and the tide goes out, and the barley grain must die

Chorus:

And it’s aye-fo-diddle-de-tar-ie-o. Aye-fo-diddle-de-dee
Aye-fo-diddle-de-tar-ee-o. The barley grain for me.

Well, the summer it bein’ over, and winter comin’ on
The barley grain lefts up his head with a beard like any man.

Then the reaper comes with his sharp hook. He’s made me no reply
He’s grabbed me by the whiskers and he’s cut me above the thigh.

Then the binder comes with her neat thumb. She’s bound me all around.
And then they’ve hired a handy-man to stack me on the ground.

Then the pitcher comes with a steel fork. He’s stabbed me through the heart
And like a rogue or a highway man, They’ve stacked me on the cart

Well, they hauled me off to an old barn. They spread me out on the floor.
They left me there for a space of time, ‘til me beard grew through the door.

Then the thrasher comes with his big flail. He swears he’ll break all me bones!
The miller, he served me worse than that, for he’s flung me between two stones.

Well, they got me out of that, and threw me into a well.
They left me there for a space of time, ‘til me belly began to swell.

Well, they got me out of that, and brewed me up in a pan
And when they put me into the jug, I’m as strong as any man.

Well, they’ve drunk me out in the kitchen. They’ve drunk me out in the hall.
The drunkard, he served me worse than that, for he’s flung me against the wall.
Track Name: The Orange and the Green
Chorus:

Oh, it is the biggest mix-up that you have ever seen!
Me father, he was orange, and me mother, she was green.

Me father was an Ulster man, broad Protestant was he.
Me mother was a Catholic girl. from County Cork was she.
They were married in two churches, lived happily enough
Until the day that I was born, then things got rather rough.
Baptized by Father Riley, I was rushed away by car
To be made a little Orange man, me father’s shining star
I was christened David Anthony, but still in spite of that
To me father, I was William, while me mother called me Pat.

With mother every Sunday, to mass I’d proudly stroll.
Then after that the Orange lodge would try to save my soul.
While both sides tried to claim me, but I was smart because
I’d play the flute or play the harp, depending where I was.
One day me mass relations came ‘round to visit me
Just as my father’s kinfolk were all sittin’ down to tea.
We tried to smooth things over, but they all began to fight.
And me, being strictly neutral, I bashed everyone in sight.

My patents never could agree about my kind of school.
My learning was all done at home, that’s why I’m such a fool.
They’ve both passed on, God rest them, but left me caught between
This awful colour problem of the Orange and the Green.
Track Name: All For Me Grog
Chorus:

And, it’s all for me grog! Me jolly, jolly grog! All for me beer and tobacco.
For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin. Far across the western ocean I must wander.

Well, now where are me boots? Me noggin’, noggin’ boots? All gone for beer and tobacco.
For the heels they are worn out, and the toes are kicked about,
And the soles are looking out for better weather.

Well, now where is me shirt, me noggin’, noggin’ shirt? All gone for beer and tobacco.
For the collar, it is all worn, and the sleeves they are all torn,
And the tail is looking out for better weather.

Well, I’m sick in the head, and I haven’t been to bed since I came ashore with me plunder
I’m seeing centipedes and snakes, and I’m full of pains and aches
And I think I’ll beat a path for way out yonder.
Track Name: The Mermaid
It was Friday morn when we set sail, and we were not far from the land
When the Captain, he spied a pretty mermaid with a comb and mirror in her hand.

Chorus:

And the ocean ways do roll And the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the landlubbers lie down below, below, below
While the landlubbers lie down below.

Then up spoke the Captain of our gallant ship, and a fine old man was he.
This fishy mermaid has told me of our doom. We will lie at the bottom of the sea.

Then up spoke the Mate of our gallant ship, and a fine spoken man was he
Saying “I have a wife in Brooklyn by the sea, and tonight a widow she will be.”

Then up spoke the Cabin Boy of our gallant ship, and a brave, young lad was he
Saying “I have a sweetheart in Salem by the sea, and tonight she’ll be grieving for me.”

Then up spoke the Cook of our gallant ship, and a greasy, old butcher was he
Saying “I care much more for my pots and my pans than I care for the bottom of the sea.”

Then three times ‘round spun our gallant ship, and three times ‘round spun she.
Three times ‘round spun our gallant ship, Then she sank to the bottom of the sea.
Track Name: Rosin the Bow
I’ve traveled all over the world, and now to another I’ll go
And I know that good quarters are waiting to welcome old Rosin the Bow.
To welcome old Rosin the Bow, me boys, to welcome old Rosin the Bow
And I know that good quarters are waiting to welcome old Rosin the Bow.

When I’m dead and laid out on the counter, a voice you will hear from below,
Saying “Send down a hogshead of whiskey for to drink with old Rosin the Bow.”
To drink with old Rosin the Bow, me boys, to drink with old Rosin the Bow.
Saying “Send down a hogshead of whiskey for to drink with old Rosin the Bow.”

Then get a half dozen stout fellows, and stack ‘em all up in a row
Let ‘em drink out of half-gallon bottles to the memory of Rosin the Bow.
To the memory of Rosin the Bow, me boys, to the memory of Rosin the Bow
Let ‘em drink out of half-gallon bottles to the memory of Rosin the Bow.

Then get that half dozen stout fellows, and let ‘em all stagger and groan
Let ‘em dig a great hole in the meadow, and in it put Rosin the Bow.
And in it put Rosin the Bowu, me boys, and in it put Rosin the Bow
Let ‘em dig a great hole in the meadow and in it put Rosin the Bow.

Then get ye a couple of bottles. Put one at me head and me toe.
With a diamond ring scratch upon ‘em the name of old Rosin the Bow.
The name of old Rosin the Bow, me boys, the name of old Rosin the Bow
With a diamond ring scratch upon ‘em the name of old Rosin the Bow.

I feel that old tyrant approaching, that cruel and remorseless old foe.
Let me lift up a glass in his honor. Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow.
Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow, me boys, take a drink with old Rosin the Bow
Track Name: Star of the County Down
Near Bainbridge town, in the County Down, one morning last July
Down the wild boreen came a sweet colleen and she smiled as she passed me by.
Oh she looked so neat from her two bare feet to the sheen of her nut brown hair
Such a coaxing elf, I’d to shake myself to be sure I was standing there.

[Chorus]
From Bantry Bay down to Derry Quay (pronounced kay), and from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I’ve seen like the sweet colleen that I met in the County Down.

As she onward sped, sure I shook my head, and I gazed with a feeling queer
And I said, says I, to a passer by, who’s the maid with the nut brown hair
Oh, he smiled at me, and with pride says he, that’s the gem of all Ireland’s crown
Young Rosy McGann, from the banks of the Bann, she’s the star of the County Down.

She’d a soft brown eye, and a look so shy and a smile like a rose in June
And you’d crave each note from her lily white throat as she lilted an Irish tune
At the pattern dance, you’d be held in a trance as she tripped through a jig or a reel
When her eyes she’d roll, she would lift your soul and your heart she would quickly steal.

Now I’ve roamed a bit, but ne’er was hit since my traveling days began
But fair and square I surrendered there to the charms of young Rosy McGann
With my heart to let, sure and no tenant yet did I meet with a shawl or a gown
But in she went, and I asked no rent from the Star of the County Down.

At the crossroads fair, I’ll be surely there, and I’ll dress in my Sunday clothes
With me shoes shined bright and me hat cocked right for a smile from the nut brown rose.
No pipe I’ll smoke, and no horse I’ll yoke, let my plow with the rust to turn brown
‘Til the smiling bride by my own fire side be the Star of the County Down.