1. MY
FAITHFUL JOHNNY Traditional,
arranged by February Sky
When
will you come again, my faithful Johnny,
When
will you come again, my sweet and bonnie?
When
the corn is gathered, when the leaves are withered,
I
will come again, my sweet and bonnie, I will come again.
Then
winter's winds will blow, my faithful Johnny,
Then
winter's winds will blow, my sweet and bonnie,
Though
the day be dark with drift, that I cannot see the light,
I
will come again, my sweet and bonnie, I will come again.
Then
will you meet me here, my faithful Johnny,
Then
will you meet me here, my sweet and bonnie?
Though
the night be Halloween, when the fearful sights are seen
I
will come again, my sweet and bonnie, I will come again. (repeat first verse.)
2. SPENCER’S
MARCH Tune
by Phil Cooper, ©2012, all rights reserved
3. GOLDENROD By
Susan Urban, ©2012, all rights reserved
Here
they stand, in the shade of an ancient white oak tree,
Holding
hands as they gaze into each other's eyes,
Autumn
eyes, all surrounded by fine lines and wrinkles,
They
were children just yesterday, how the time flies!
Some
will say, love is only for nubile young
beauties,
Some
will say, when you're long past where youth had its end,
Finding
love deep and fervent is foolish and
crazy,
You'll
embarrass your family and freak out
your friends.
Like
the late blooming goldenrod, bright in October,
Like
the maples that flame on the gray autumn skies,
Finding
love late in life is a gift to be treasured,
For
the longer the wait is, the sweeter the prize.
CHORUS:
It's
a long twisted road they have walked to each other,
Disappointment
and sorrow attending their way.
Now
that journey is over, they're starting a new one,
Bright
or dark, hand in hand they will move through their days.
Some
will say, such a short time ‘til old age and parting,
Some
will tell them, why bother so late in the day.
They
will say, "Time has taught us to live in the moment,
Life
is always uncertain, whatever your age."
They
both know separation is merely illusion,
They
were always together, and always will be,
The
kaleidoscope turning to steer them back homeward,
When
they sail on the waves of that great star-lit sea.
But
for now, they'll take joy as it comes, not complaining
That
it didn't come sooner, or ask when it ends.
And
the young folks will gawk, but the old ones will smile,
When
they kiss in broad daylight, true lovers and friends.
CHORUS
4. THE
HOUSE CARPENTER Traditional,
arranged by February Sky
Well
met, well met cried an old true love,
Well
met, well met cried he,
For
I have returned from the salt, salt sea
And
it's all for the love of thee.
I
could have married a king's daughter there,
And
she would have married me,
But
I did forsake her crowns of gold,
And
it's all for the love of thee.
Well
if you could have married a king's daughter there,
I'm
sure you are to blame,
For
I have married a house carpenter,
And
I'm sure he's a fine young man.
Would
you forsake your house carpenter,
And
come along with me,
I'll
show you where the grass grows green,
On
the banks of Italy.
If
I should forsake my house carpenter,
And
come along with thee,
What
do you have to maintain me on,
To
keep me from slavery.
I
have seven ships all on dry land,
Seven
more on the sea,
And
I'll give you the best of them,
And
keep the worst for me.
She
picked up her dear little babe,
And
kisses gave him three,
O
stay at home my sweet little babe,
And
keep your papa company.
They
had not been sailing all along two weeks,
I'm
sure that it was not three,
When
this fair maid she began for to weep.
And
she wept most bitterly.
O
are you weeping for silver or gold,
Or
all of your wealth in store?
Or
are you weeping for your house carpenter,
Who
you're never going to see anymore?
O
I am not weeping for silver or gold,
Or
all of my wealth in store,
But
I am a-weeping for my sweet little babe,
That
I'm never going to see anymore.
O
they had not been sailing all about three weeks,
I'm
sure that it was not four,
When
the ship sprang a leak in the bottom and sank,
Never
to rise anymore.
Well
met, well met cried an old true love,
Well
met, well met cried she,
For
I am a-drowning in the salt, salt sea,
And
it's all for the love of thee.
5. I
HAVE SO MANY CHILDREN By
Susan Urban, ©1985, all rights reserved
I
have so many children,
Though
I've never borne a child,
Younger
ones who have come to me
For
a place to rest awhile,
And
they tell me their stories,
I
hold out what hope I can;
When
they leave, they carry part of me,
Living
always in their hands.
I
have so many mothers,
Although
born to only one;
They
have found out the worth in me,
Turned
my darkness toward the sun.
They
have watered the seeds of time
That
would otherwise have died,
I
have seen all that life contains
In
the colors of their eyes.
I
have so many sisters,
Though
I am an only child.
We
have joined our hands in sorrow,
And
returned each other's smiles.
We
have shared our deepest secrets
Without
judgment, without blame,
For
we know what is given
Will
return to us again.
I
have so many children!
6. THOMAS
THE RHYMER Lyrics
traditional, collated by Susan Urban; tune Susan Urban, ©2005
True
Thomas lay on a grassy bank and he beheld a lady gay,
A
lady who was brisk and bold, come riding o'er the fernie brae.
Her
skirt was of the grass-green silk, her mantle of the velvet fine,
And
hanging from her horse's mane were fifty silver bells and nine.
True
Thomas he pulled off his cap and bowed him down on bended knee:
"All
hail to you, oh Heaven's Queen, Thy like on earth I ne'er did see."
"O
no, True Thomas, no," she said, that name does not belong to me;
I
am the queen of fair Elfland, and I have come to visit thee.
"Now
you must go with me," she said, "True Thomas, you must go with me,
And
you must serve me seven years, through good or ill as chance may be."
She
mounted on her milk-white steed, she took True Thomas up behind,
And
every time the bridle rang, the horse ran swifter than the wind.
And
so as they rode further on, they found a garden thick with trees,
"Light
down," he says, "O Lady fair, and I will gather fruit for thee."
"O
no, True Thomas, no,"' she says, "That fruit must not be touched by
thee,
For
all the plagues that are in Hell are in the fruit of this country."
"But
I have bread here in my lap, likewise a bottle of red wine,
And
now ‘ere we go further on, we'll stop awhile, and you may dine."
And
once he ate and drank his fill, she told him, "Lean upon my knee,
Abide
and rest a little while, and I will show you wonders three."
"O
do you see that narrow road, so thick beset with thorn and briar?
That
is the path of righteousness, though after it but few inquire."
"And
do you see that broad broad road, that lies across the grassy mead?
That
is the path of wickedness, though some Heaven's where it leads."
"And
do you see that bonny road, that winds about the green hillside?
That
is the road to fair Elfland, where you and I this night must ride."
"But
Thomas, you must hold your tongue, no matter what you hear or see,
For
if one word you chance to speak, you'll ne'er return to your own country."
And
then he wore a grass green coat, and likewise shoes of velvet green,
‘Til
seven years were past and gone, True Thomas ne'er on earth was seen.
7. MULL
OF THE MOUNTAIN Traditional tune,
arranged by February Sky
8. URSA By
Susan Urban, ©2010, all rights reserved
I
was the daughter of a wild mountain man,
Mated
with my mama for to get himself a son.
He
stole me from her when the moon was new in April,
And
he left for her a trade-good fortune, pelts and knives and guns.
He
cursed the stars above him when he found I was a girl,
But
still he raised me up to be a daughter of the pines.
My
daddy died of snakebite on the day I turned 14,
And
soon I grew so lonesome that I thought I'd lose my mind.
So
I went running through that shadowed forest,
Going
who knows where,
Daughter
of the half-breed human offspring of a bear.
I
stole a good dress from a farmhouse washing line,
Found
myself a kind man, and he went and married me.
Lived
in that same town where I bore to him six babies,
‘Til
the year I was a widow woman turning 63.
I
heard that there were Yankees coming, burning up the towns,
My
children all were grown and gone or off to fight the war.
I
fled to seek my refuge in the trackless mountain woods,
Confederate
money, fancy dresses no good any more.
And
I went fleeing through that misty forest,
Going
who knows where,
Daughter
of the half-breed human offspring of a bear.
I
lived alone there for the turning of a year,
But
the work and weather made my old bones start to ache,
Deep
in the autumn, I could sense the Yankees coming,
But
I had no will to move again, though my life they should take.
Then
on a grey November eve, came crashing through the trees,
A
he-bear huge and handsome, shaggy fur of deepest black.
I
had no fear to meet my fellow creature of the woods,
I
held my ground and watched him as he ambled toward my shack.
And
I stood waiting in that autumn forest, bound to go nowhere,
Daughter
of the half-breed human offspring of a bear.
The
bear looked at me, and he rose on his hind legs,
Then
a man appeared there, long dark hair all glistening.
He
said, "Granddaughter, come away and roam with me now,
We
will sleep the Winter-Time away and frolic in the Spring."
I
looked down at my body, it was covered with thick fur,
I
followed my grandfather as he stalked into the night,
And
to this day, the hunters talk about the two great bears
Who
vanish into nothing when they fix them in their sights.
And
we go laughing through the cool bright forest,
Roaming
everywhere,
Immortal
son and daughter of the Spirit of the Bear.
9. WHEN
I GO ©
Dave Carter/David Robert Carter (BMI), admin. by Tracy Grammer Music
Come,
lonely hunter, chieftain and king,
I
will fly like the falcon when I go
Bear
me my brother under your wing,
I
will strike fell like lightning when I go
I
will bellow like the thunder drum, invoke the storm of war
A
twisting pillar spun of dust and blood up from the prairie floor
I
will sweep the foe before me like a gale out on the snow
And
the wind will long recount the story,
Reverence
and glory, when I go
Spring,
spirit dancer, nimble and thin,
I
will leap like coyote when I go
Tireless
entrancer, lend me your skin,
I
will run like the gray wolf when I go
I
will climb the rise at daybreak, I will kiss the sky at noon
Raise
my yearning voice at midnight to my mother in the moon
I
will make the lay of long defeat and draw the chorus slow
I'll
send this message down the wire
And
hope that someone wise is listening when I go
And
when the sun comes trumpets from his red house in the east
He
will find a standing stone where long I chanted my release
He
will send his morning messenger to strike the hammer blow
And
I will crumble down uncountable
In
showers of crimson rubies when I go
Sigh,
mournful sister, whisper and turn,
I
will rattle like dry leaves when I go
Stand
in the mist where my fire used to burn,
I
will camp on the night breeze when I go
And
should you glimpse my wandering form out on the borderline
Between
death and resurrection and the council of the pines
Do
not worry for my comfort, do not sorrow for me so
All
your diamond tears will rise up
And
adorn the sky beside me when I go
10. BEER
IS GOOD FOR YOU By
Susan Urban, ©2010, all rights reserved, tune traditional
Would
you like to drink some tea? Thank you,
no, I’ll have a beer!
Our
ancestors started brewin’ seven thousand years ago,
Down
in Mesopotamia.
When
some wild yeast and water got into the cereal,
They
knew a good thing when they drank it.
Tasted
mighty satisfyin’, gave a little buzz,
Kept
through the wintertime too,
They
would sip from the common bowl through straws,
Singing,
”Beer is good for you!”
In
a pilsner fine, or a frosted stein,
Beer
is good for you!
From
an ice cold can, of whatever brand,
Oh,
beer is good for you!
When
you hear those silly people puttin’ down that liquid bread,
Don’t
you believe it’s true,
It’ll
lower stress and make you much happier,
Beer
is good for you.
Drinkin’
beer will thin your blood out where your arteries could clog,
Raises
your good cholesterol.
It’ll
help to keep dementia from foggin’ up your head,
Or
breaking a hip if you should fall down.
The
key is moderation when you’re slurpin’ down a brew,
Have
one or maybe just two,
For
as long as you don’t overdo those brewskies,
Beer
is good for you!
On
a summer’s day, when you’re making hay,
Beer
is good for you!
On
a winter’s night, by a fire bright,
Oh,
beer is good for you!
When
you hear those silly people puttin’ down that liquid bread,
Don’t
you believe it’s true,
Full
of vitamins and stout antioxidants,
Beer
is good for you.
There’s
a kind of beer for nearly everybody in the world,
Dark
stout to lightest lager brew.
There
is Oberon that’s flavored with a hint of orange peel,
Or
blueberry ale from Northern places.
Good
vanilla porter’s like a beer with Haagen Daaz,
Ale
made with pumpkin in the fall.
They
will make each day a big celebration,
‘Cause
beer is good for you!
With
a roasted bird or a fry that’s stirred,
Beer
is good for you!
With
a pizza slice or some wild rice,
Oh,
beer is good for you!
When
you hear those silly people puttin’ down that liquid bread,
Don’t
you believe it’s true,
‘Cause
it’s is even great for strict vegetarians,
Beer
is good for you.
11. TALCAHUANO
GIRLS
Traditional,
arranged by February Sky
I've
been a ship’s cook, and I've been a clipperman
I
can dance, I can sing, I can walk a jib-boom
I
can handle a harpoon and cut a fine figure
Whenever
I get sent to a good standing room
CHORUS:
We'll
rant and we'll roar like true-born young whalermen
We'll
rant and we'll roar on deck and below
Until
we see bottom inside the two sinkers
And
straight up the channel to Huasco we'll go
I
went to Talcahuano last year on a whaler
I
bought some gold brooches for the girls in the Bay
I
bought me a clay pipe, they calls it a Meerschuam
It
melted like butter on a hot sunny day
CHORUS
I
went to a dance last night in old Tumbez
There
was plenty of talent, as much as you'd wish
There
was one little girl there a-chewing tobacco
Just
like a young kitten a-chewing fresh fish
CHORUS
Here's
a health to the girls of old Talcahuano
Here’s
a health to the girls of far-off Maui
Let’s
drink and be merry, don't be melancholy
I
can't marry youse all, or in chokey I'd be
CHORUS
12. ANNA
AND TIM By
Susan Urban, ©1996, all rights reserved all rights reserved
The
greystone was a showplace with treasures rich and fine,
Miss
Anna was its owner back in 1929.
Tim
handed her ten dollars, she told him, "Come lay down,"
And
afterwards he gazed into her eyes of amber brown.
"You
know this was my first time, gosh, I hope I did okay,"
"You
come on back tomorrow, boy," that was all that she would say.
Though she was more than twice his
age, Tim couldn't keep away,
And soon the greystone mansion saw
young Tim there every day.
Though Anna's nights were busy,
still she found the time for him,
He'd love her in the evening, when
the light began to dim.
She said, "You keep your money,
boy, there's others who can pay,
You'll need it for your
college," that was all she had to say.
She
told him, "I remember back when I was young and green,
I've
had to make it on my own since I was just 14.
I'm
proud of all I have because I've earned it free and clear,
The
mobsters, they all hate me, for of them I have no fear.
They
swear they'll bring their Tommy guns and cut me down one day,
So
just you watch your back, boy," that was all that she could say.
One early winter evening, when the
snow was falling hard,
Tim found the greystone empty, so he
looked out in the yard.
There Anna lay, her lifeblood
draining out into the snow,
He tried to stop the bleeding, but
she told him, "Darlin', no!
It's much too late already, kiss my
lips and say adieu,
There's no one else who's loved me,
boy, in all this world, but you."
He
buried her in Graceland, there was no one else around,
He
left a dozen blood red roses on the frozen ground.
Next
day her lawyer called and said, "She left it all to you,
The
house, the cars, the furniture, and lots of money, too.
I
don't know why she did it, but it's sure your lucky day."
And
Tim just stood there weeping, there was nothing he could say.
Tim grew up and he got married, the
babies numbered three.
He raised them in the house where
Anna's business used to be.
And in the early evening, Tim would
watch his children play
Upon the very spot where Anna died
that winter's day.
The years went by, the block went
bad, the kids said, "Move away!"
"This old house means a lot to
me," that was all that he would say.
There's
a double plot in Graceland over where the El trains roar;
One
stone is carved with "Anna," just her name and nothing more.
The
other's marked with "Tim" and shows his dates of death and birth,
And
now those star-crossed lovers sleep together in the earth.
If there's a place beyond this world
where lovers meet, I pray
Their souls are reunited in some new
and brighter day,
And their love will live forever -
now there's nothing more to say.
13. WIDOW’S
LAMENT/BROSE AND BUTTER Traditional tune,
arranged by February Sky
14. INVISIBLE
WOMAN By
Susan Urban, ©2007, all rights reserved all rights reserved
I
am the invisible woman, but not like the guy in that old horror movie,
For
though I'm solid flesh and bone, people pass me by and look through me:
Female
human being, well past her child bearing years,
Ugly,
dried-out, withered, nasty, I can hear their thoughts between my ears.
I
close my eyes now, drifting back to another time and place,
When
a woman of this age was worshiped for the wrinkles on her face…
The
wrinkles on her face.
CHORUS:
Respect Honor
Wisdom Reverence (2X)
We
live in the strangest of eras, women ashamed to have lived past twenty-nine,
They
sell us shots of deadly poison, surgery designed to turn back time.
It
seems we've forgotten, life's a circle turning without end,
How
we move from light to darkness, youth to elderhood and back again.
Sweet
lovely maidens, mothers bearing babies in their prime,
Elder
women wise with living, equal partners on the scale of time…
On
the scale of time. CHORUS
BRIDGE:
But
the eyes say,
"Cut
your hair off, no bright colors, do your best to pretend you don't exist,
You
upset us, you remind us youth and beauty fade like morning mist…
Like
morning mist."
Ah,
now, but we are defiant, and we will refuse just to lay us down and die,
When
they try to look through us, we will stand and look them in the eye.
Strong
women with voices, we said "NO" to war and bigotry,
There
will be no meek surrender, we will keep on singing ‘til we're free.
No,
it won't be easy, we'll be climbing uphill ‘til the end,
When
our daughters come to our age, no one then will dare to look through them…
Will
dare to look through them! CHORUS
15. BEE'S
WING Richard
Thompson, Beeswing Music, BMI, admin. Bug Music, used by permission
I
was nineteen when I came to town, they called it the Summer of Love
They
were burning babies, burning flags, it was hawks against the doves
I
took a job in a steamer down on Cauldrum Street
And
I fell in love with a laundry girl was working next to me
She
was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
So
fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She
was a lost child, she was running wild
Saying,
"As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay,
And
you wouldn't want me any other way"
Brown
hair zig-zagging 'round her face, a look of half-surprise
Like
a fox caught in the headlights, there was animal in her eyes
She
said, "Young man, oh can't you see I'm not the factory kind
If
you don't take me out of here, I'll surely lose my mind"
She was a rare thing, fine as a
bee's wing
So fine that I might crush her where
she lay
She was a lost child, she was
running wild
Saying, "As long as there's no
price on love, I'll stay.
And you wouldn't want me any other
way"
We
busked around from town to town, picking fruit in Kent
And
we could tinker pots and pans and lamps wherever we went
And
I thought that we might settle down, get a few acres dug
Fire
burning in the hearth and babies on the rug
She
said "Young man, oh foolish man, that surely sounds like hell.
You
might be lord of half this world, you'll not own me as well"
She was a rare thing, fine as a
bee's wing
So fine a breath of wind might blow
her away
She was a lost child, she was
running wild
Saying, "As long as there's no
price on love, I'll stay.
And you wouldn't want me any other
way"
We
were camping in the Gower one time, the work was pretty good
She
thought we shouldn't wait for the frost, I thought maybe we should
We
were drinking more in those days and tempers reached a pitch
And
like a fool I let her run with the rambling itch
They
tell me now she's sleeping rough back on the Derby beat
White
Horse in her hip pocket and a wolfhound at her feet
And
they say she even married once, a man named Romany Brown
But
even a gypsy caravan was too much settling down
And
they say her flower is faded now, hard weather and hard booze
Maybe
that's just the price you pay for the chains you refuse
She was a rare thing, fine as a
bee's wing
And I miss her more than words could
ever say
If I could just taste some of her
wildness now
Just hold her back in my arms today,
And I wouldn't want her
any other way