CREDITS Jim Haney - Vocals, Mandolin, Octave Mandolin, Guitar
Bonnie Haney - Vocals, Bodhran
Don Rice - Vocals, 6 and 12-String Guitars, 5-String Banjo, Irish Tenor Banjo
Teresa Brenden - Flute
Bettina Villamil - Vocals, Fiddle, Octave Mandolin, Mandolin, Guitar
Alex Rydell - Fiddle, Backing Vocals
Jason Thorstad - Bass, Guitar, Backing Vocals
Pat Crary - Drums, Bodhran
Bob Schieffer - Sound Engineering and Recording, Backing Vocals
Produced and Recorded by Bob Schieffer
Assistant Producer – Jared Anderson
Recoded at Single Malt Studios, Moorhead, MN
Graphic Design – Raoul Gomez
Photography – Gabe and Jim Haney, Haney’s Photography and Jared Anderson
Copyright 2008 Poitin. All rights reserved
Dempsey’s Jigs
Traditional
Graemsay Jig / Around The World For Sport / Haste To The Wedding
Waiting on the Strand
Music and Lyrics by Bonnie Haney
CHORUS
You’ll be here
You will be here
You will be here soon
I can feel you near
I can feel you near
Standing here by day, by night
Waiting for my heart’s delight
I can see by candlelight
Where my love shall be
Where my love shall be
I shall wait through fog and cold
Waiting shepherds flock to fold
To me you shall come to hold
I would swim the sea
I would swim the sea
Here I’m standing o’er the hill
Waiting for my love at will
I will lie here oh so still
Waiting on the strand
Waiting on the strand
Come Out Ye Black and Tans
Music Traditional, Lyrics by Dominic Behan
I was born on a Dublin street where the royal drums do beat.
And them lovin’ English feet, they tramped all o’er us.
And almost every night, when me dad would come home tight,
He’d invite the neighbors outside with this chorus.
CHORUS:
Come out ya black and tans.
Come out and fight me like a man.
Tell your wives how you won medals down in Flanders.
Tell ‘em how the IRA made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra
Let them hear you tell, how you slammed the great Parnell.
How you fought him well and truly persecuted.
Where are the cheers and jeers that you bravely let us hear
When our heroes of ’16 were executed.
Tell them how you slew, those brave Arabs two by two.
Like the Zulus, they had spears and bows and arrows.
How you bravely slew each one, with your 16-pounder gun.
And you frightened them poor natives to the marrow.
The time is comin’ fast, and the day is here at last,
When each yeoman will be cast aside before us.
And if there be a need, sure my kids will yell “Godspeed,”
And they’ll sing a verse or two of this fine chorus.
Butterfly Slip Jigs
Traditional
Comb Your Hair and Curl It / The Butterfly / Barney Brallaghan
Omie Wise
Traditional
Come listen to my story, and I'll tell you no lies,
how John Lewis done murdered poor little Omie Wise,
He asked her to meet him at Adams's spring,
he promised her money and other fine things,
Though he gave her no money, yet he flattered the case.
Saying we’ll go and get married, And there'll be no disgrace."
She got up behind him, and away they did ride
All down by the river, Where the deep waters flow.
Two boys went a-fishin’, on a fine summers day
When the body of little Omie, came floating away.
They cast their net around her, and they drew her to the bank.
Her clothes all wet and muddy, and they laid her on a plank.
Then they sent for John Lewis, for to come to that place.
And they held up little Omie, so that he might see her face.
Though he made no confession, they carried him to jail.
And no friends or relations, would go on his bail.
Horo Johnny
Sean McCarthy
CHORUS
Horo Johnny, won’t you come home soon,
The winter is coming and I’m all alone,
A candle is burning in my window, love,
And the wild geese, they are coming home.
A young man’s love is something to behold,
First it burns and then it soon turns so cold.
He’ll whisper in the moonlight and your hand he’ll hold,
Then he’ll vanish like the morning dew.
He’ll court you by a meadow in the summertime,
When first you love it is the sweetest time.
He’ll promise a golden ring and then one day,
He’ll vanish with the morning dew.
You’ll be waiting for his footsteps in the room,
Listen by the window, he’ll be coming soon.
Your heart will be breaking by the early dawn,
For he’ll vanish with the morning dew.
So come all you young men who are in your prime,
A young maiden’s love is like the rarest wine,
When first you taste it ‘tis the golden time,
Sweeter than the morning dew
Devil is Dead
Traditional
CHORUS:
Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, devil is dead.
Some say the devil is dead and buried in Killarney.
More say he rose again.
More say he rose again. (audience)
More say he rose again
And joined the British army.
Feed the pigs and milk the cow,
And milk the cow and feed the pigs
Feed the pigs and milk the cow,
So early in the morning.
Polly put the kettle on.
The kettle’s siging loud and strong.
Polly put the kettle on.
Get out of bed this morning.
My old man is 8 feet tall, he’s 8 feet tall, 8 feet tall.
My old man is 8 feet tall.
He drinks a lot of Guinness.
Had to build a bigger bed,
Had to find a bigger bed,
Had to buy a bigger bed
For him and all his misses.
Katie she is tall and thin, tall and thin, tall and thin.
Katie she is tall and thin.
She likes her sugar candy.
Eats it in the bed at night.
Eats it in the bed at night
Eats it is the bed at night.
It makes her nice and randy.
My wife she has a hairy thing, a hairy thing, a hairy thing.
My wife she has a hairy thing,
She showed it to me Sunday.
Bought it in the finest shop.
Bought it in the finest shop.
Bought it in the finest shop.
It’s going back on Monday.
The Mermaid
Traditional
It was Friday morn when we set sail
And we were not far from the land
When our captain he spied a mermaid so fair
With a comb and a glass in her hand
CHORUS
And the ocean waves do roll
And the stormy winds do blow
And we poor sailors are skipping at the top
While the land-lubbers lie down below,
While the land-lubbers lie down below
Then up spoke the captain of our gallant ship
And a fine old man was he
"This fishy mermaid has warned me of our doom
We shall sink to the bottom of the sea"
Then up spoke the first 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 mate of our gallant ship
And a fine spoken man was he
Saying "I have a wife in Salem by the sea
And tonight she'll be weeping for me"
Then up spoke the cook of our gallant ship
And a crazy old butcher was he
I care more for my pots and my pans
Then I do for the bottom of the sea
Three times round spun our gallant ship
And three times round spun she
Three times round spun our gallant ship
And she sank to the bottom of the sea
Lanigan’s Ball
Traditional
In the town of Athy one Jeremy Lanigan
Battered away 'til he hadn't a pound.
His father he died and made him a man again
Left him a farm and ten acres of ground.
He gave a grand party to friends and relations
Who didn't forget him when came to the well,
And if you'll but listen I'll make your eyes glisten
Of the rows and the ructions of Lanigan's Ball.
Myself to be sure got free invitation,
For all the nice boys and girls I might ask,
And just in a minute both friends and relations
Were dancing as merry as bees 'round a cask.
There were lashings of punch and wine for the ladies,
Potatoes and cakes; there was bacon and tea,
There were the Lally’s, the Lawler’s, and all the O'Heaney’s
Courting the girls and dancing away.
They were doing all kinds of nonsensical polkas
‘Round and around the room in a whirligig.
Julia and I, we banished their nonsense
And tipped them the twist of a real Irish jig.
Then, the girls, they all got mad at me
Danced 'til they thought the ceiling would fall.
I spent six months at Brooks' Academy
Learning to dance for Lanigan's Ball
CHORUS
Six long months I spent up in Dublin,
Six long months doin’ nothing at all,
Six long months I spent up in Dublin,
Learning to dance for Lanigan's Ball.
She stepped out and I stepped in again,
I stepped out and she stepped in again,
She stepped out and I stepped in again,
Learning to dance for Lanigan's Ball.
The boys, they were merry, the girls all hearty
Dancing all around in couples and groups,
An accident happened, young Terrance McCarthy
Put his right leg through miss Finnerty's hoops.
Poor creature fainted and cried, ``Meelia murther,''
Called for her brothers and gathered them all.
Carmody swore that he'd go no further
'Til he had revenge at Lanigan's Ball.
Boys, oh boys, 'twas then there were runctions.
I got a kick from big Phelim McHugh.
I replied to his introduction
And kicked him a terrible hullabaloo.
Kelly, the piper, was near being strangled.
They leapt on his pipes, bellows, chanters and all.
The boys and girls, they got all entangled
And that put an end to Lanigan's Ball.
The Reel Conciliation
Music in the Glen / An Ugly Customer / The Reconciliation
Music Traditional, Lyrics and arrangement by Bettina Villamil
Music in the Glen, Music in the Glen,
Playing it out for all to hear again.
Ain't had a drink since I don't know when,
Now I'm back with my troubles singing in the Glen.
Music in the Glen, Music in the Glen,
Playing it out for all to hear again.
Loved my laddie like I loved my wine,
And I woke up with that aching heart of mine.
Star of the County Down
Traditional
Near Ban-bridge town, in the County Down
One morning last July
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen
And she smiled as she passed me by.
She looked so sweet from her two bare feet
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair
Such a coaxing elf, I'd to shake myself
For to see I was really there.
CHORUS
From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay
And from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen
That I met in the County Down.
As she onward sped sure I shook my head
And I gazed with a feeling rare
And I said, says I, to a passerby
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
He smiled at me, and he says, says he,
"That's the gem of Ireland's crown.
Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann
She's the star of the County Down."
She’s a soft brown eye and a look so sly
And a smile like a Rose in June
And you carved each note from her lovely throat
As she lilted an Irish tune
At the pattern dance, you’d be held in trance
As she tripped thru a jig or a reel
When her eyes she’d roll, she would lift your soul
And your heart she’d quickly steal
At the harvest fair, she’ll be surely there
So I’ll dress in my Sunday clothes
With me shoes shone bright, and me hat cock’d right
For a smile from me nut-brown rose
No pipe I’ll smoke, no horse I’ll yoke
Till my plow is a rust-colored brown
Till my smilin’ bride, by my own fireside
Sits the Star of the County Down
Down the Down
Music and Lyrics by Don Rice
He fought at the fair. They called him the Irishman.
He fought at the fair, bare-fisted with the boys.
When he pulled their hair, they chased him through the town
And down to the river he ran.
CHORUS:
He ran down the down-stream run ‘cross the riverbed.
He ran down the down-stream riffle of the creek.
Swept o’er the falls, way down to the Mississip
And he felt himself drifting away.
He drank Irish whiskey, like it would be the death of him.
He drank Irish whiskey, like water into wine.
Lost all he had, and when they came for him
Down to the river he ran
He moved to the city, patched holes in the ballroom wall.
Moved to the city, patched up his life.
Missed his dear brother. He would never be the same.
And down to the river he ran
When he came back to town, they didn’t know what to make of him.
When he came back to town, the mayor told him “Boy…
You’re the richest man in town. By God, you showed them all.”
And down to the river he ran.
Kill Malley
Kilmaley aka.Glen Allen / Galway Rambler / Kitty's Wedding
Traditional
Windy Day
Music and Lyrics by Bettina Villamil
So, I’m out to find true love, I hope I’m not to fail
I’m on the bow, the rigs are up, we’re off to go and sail
Will it be the captain or will the friendship fail
Or will it be the cabin boy for love to prevail
A fleeting heart, a maiden fair, I’m often in despair
Will this windy day blow me in my true love’s way?
The wind has changed, we’ve come about, the boom is on mi way
It knocked me straight, right off the ship in the middle of the sea
Did no one see, or even know, or notice that I fell?
I’m on my own swimming frantically, I damn them all to L
Then in my sight, a strapping man had offered me his hand
Has this windy day blown me in my true love’s way?
I grabbed his hand, he pulled me up, with tenderness and care
Onto a boat, with not much room, but perfect for a pair
I soon forgot the bitterness from that same early day
And on this ship, my mystery man has sailed us far away
Away from everyone and thing, to a new life and land
Has this windy day blown us in our new life’s way?
Now we’re in Ameri-cay, we’ve no-one here to know
We haven’t much, a tiny home and a garden to grow
Our little ones, sing merrily with many friends to play
Now it seems a world once grey is very far away.
I’ve found mi love, mi love’s found me, we’ll grow so old and grey.
Has this windy day blown us in our new love’s way
When You And I Were Young, Maggie
1866, G.W. Johnson, and J.A. Butterfield
-This was a favorite song of Jim's maternal grandparents,Margaret & John Lally of Vail, Iowa
I wandered today to the hills Maggie
To watch the scene below
The creek and the creaking old mill Maggie
Where we sat long long ago
The green grass is all gone from the hill Maggie
Where once the daisies sprung
The creaking old mill now is still Maggie
Since you and I were young
CHORUS
And now we are agèd and grey, Maggie,
And the trials of life nearly done,
Let us sing of the days that are gone, Maggie,
When you and I were young.
A city so silent and lone, Maggie,
Where the young, and the gay, and the blest,
In polished white mansions of stone, Maggie,
Have each found a place of rest,
Is built where the birds used to play, Maggie,
And join in the songs that we sung;
And we sang as gayley as they, Maggie,
When you and I were young.
And now I'm feeble with age, Maggie,
My steps are less sprightly than then,
My face is a well-written page, Maggie,
And time alone was the pen.
They say we are agèd and grey, Maggie,
As sprays by the white breakers flung,
But to me you're as fair as you were, Maggie,
When you and I were young.