And there us 'ad a sing song (recorded 2014)

by Alan Courtney

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1.
Pink salmon once swam in the pure crystal Tees The pink dorsal fins showed Although the power of man brought the rain to its knees On Teesbank the flowers still grow On Teesbank the towers still grow The north country has been my home since I were born And summers i’ve seen 23 And the green hills of Cleveland in all of the years Have been the hills nearest to me Have been the hills nearest to me Oh the views that I cherish - those stark purple moors The strangers I nowt could but please And the contorting beauty is clear to behold Where the hills meet the valley of Tees Where the hills meet the valley of Tees Thought he world has its wonders and beauteous sights With my north country none can compare Though our sky’s flu of effluent the sun still shines through And the beauty of Farndale is there The beauty of Farndale is there I am singing this song with the spring in my heart And the daffodils now can be seen And the salmon will thrive in the Tees once again When black buds have burst into green When black buds have burst into green When black buds have burst into green
2.
One morning in the month of May Down by a rolling river, A jolly sailor I did stray, When I beheld some lover So carelessly along did stray A picking of the daisies gay So sweet she sang a roundelay Just as the tide was a-flowing Oh her dress it was as white as milk, And her jewels did adorn her Her shoes were made of the crimson silk Just like some lady of honour. Her cheeks were red, her eyes were brown, Her hair in ringlets hanging down, She'd a lovely brow without a frown, Just as the tide was a-flowing I made a bow and said - Fair maid How came you here so early? My heart by you it is betrayed For I could love you dearly. I am a sailor come from sea, If you will accept of my company To walk and view the fishes play Just as the tide is a-flowing No more we said - but on the way We ganged along together The small birds sang and the lambs did play And pleasant was the weather When we were weary we both sat down Beneath a tree with the branches around And what was done shall never be found As long as the tide is a-flowing. But as she lay upon the grass Her colours they kept changing Till she cried out and said - Alas! Never let your mind be ranging Here is twenty pounds I have in store, Meet me when you will - there's plenty more, For my jolly sailor I adore Just as the tide is a-flowing We both shook hands and off we steer Jack Tar drinks rum and brandy To keep his shipmates in good cheer The lady's gold is handy And along with some other pretty maid I will go To a public house where the brandy do flow Success to the maid that will do so Just as the tide is a-flowing
3.
1. I'm a roving blade of many a trade. I've every trade and all trades. And if you want to know my name, then call me Jack of all trades. I'd often heard of London town, the pride of every nation. At twenty-one it's here I've come to try for a situation. CHORUS: I'm a roving Jack of all trades, of every trade and all trades, And if you want to know me name, they call me Jack of all trades. 2. In Covent Garden I began and there I was a porter. My boss and I we soon fell out which made acquaintance shorter. Then I drove a number 46 from Waterloo to Wembley, Where I became an engineer on aeroplane assembly. 3. In Charlotte Street I was a chef, in Stepney Green a tailor, But very soon they laid us off, so I became a sailor. In Rotherhithe a stevedore, in Gray's Inn Road a grinder. On Hampstead Heath I lost my wife, it's sad but I could never find her. 4. In Downing Street I was a lord. In Denmark Street I made songs. In every street and all streets with my banjo I played songs. In Harley Street I was a quack, in Turnham Green a teacher, On Highbury Hill a half-back, and on Primrose Hill a preacher. 5. In Gower Street I'd furniture. With fleas and bugs I sold it. In Leicester Square a big white card I often stood to hold it. By London Bridge I'd lodging beds for all who made their way there, For London is of high renown and Scotsmen often stay there. 6. I'm a roving blade of many a trade. I've every trade and all trades. And if you want to know my name, then call me Jack of all trades. I've tried my hand at everything from herringbones to hat pegs, But I can raise my head and say I've never been a blackleg.
4.
Where the winter blizzards blow and the whaling fleet's at rest,
Tacked in Leith Harbour's sheltered bay safely anchored ten abreast.
For there's the whalemen at their stations as from ship to ship they rove,
Carry bags of coal with them and a little iron stove. Chorus In the little dark engine room where the chill seep in your soul, How we huddled round that little pot stove that burned oily rags and coal. The fireman Paddy works with me on the engine frozen cold,
A stranger to the truth was he, there's not a lie he hasn't told.
Well, he boasted of his gold mines and of the hearts that he had won
And his bawdy sense of humour shone just like a ray of sun. We live it seven days a week, cold hands and frozen feet,
Bitter days and lonely nights, making grog and having fights.
There's swordfish and whale-meat sausage and fresh penguin egg's a treat;
Then we struggle on to work each day through the icy winds and sleet. Then one day we saw the sun, we saw the factory ship return,
Meet your old friends and you sing a song; we hope the journey wasn't long.
And then it's homeward bound and it's over and we'll leave this icy hole;
But I always will remember that little iron stove.
5.
Now the harvest time is come, gentle Annie, And the wild oats they all scattered o'er the field. And you'll be anxious to know, gentle Annie, How your little crop of oats is gonna yield. And we're travelling down the road into Bonar And we're following the feed of Billy Yates. When we arrive and we see the donor, She's a little girl we left at Tommy Waites. So we must meet again, gentle Annie, As each year we travelling round you go. And we never will forget you, gentle Annie, You're the little dark-eyed girl we do adore. Well your mutton's very sweet, gentle Annie, And your wines they can't be beat in New South Wales, But you'd better get a fence round your cabbage Or they'll all be eaten up by the snails. And you'll take my advice, gentle Annie, And you're bound to watch old Chaffie going away With a packbag hung over his saddle, For he stole some knives and forks the other day. Yes we must meet again, gentle Annie, Each year as we a-travelling round you go. And we never can forget you, gentle Annie, You're the little dark-eyed girl that we adore. Well your little bit of oats is pressed, dear Annie, And the bullocks they are yoked to go away. You'll be sorry when we're gone, gentle Annie, For you'll want us then to stop and thresh the hay. But we must say farewell, gentle Annie, For you know with you we cannot longer stay. But we hope one and all, gentle Annie, To be with you on another threshing day.
6.
I am a freeborn man of the traveling people Got no fixed abode, with nomads I am numbered Country lanes and byways were always my ways Never fancied being lumbered   O we knew the woods, all the resting places And the small birds sang when wintertime was over Then we'd pack our load and be on the road They were good old times for the rover   There was open ground where a man could linger Stay a week or two for time was not your master Then away you'd jog with your horse and dog Nice and easy, no need to go faster   Now and then you'd meet up with other travellers Hear the news or else swap family information At the country fairs, we'd be meeting there All the people of the traveling nation   All you freeborn men of the traveling people Every tinker, rolling stone, or gypsy rover Winds of change are blowing, old ways are going Your traveling days will soon be over
7.
All off to Brighton in a charabanc Albert played his banjo and how we sang. The beer was expensive but the laughter was free Oh how we do all love to be beside the sea. Albert had a cousin named Marjorie And I had been noticing that she had noticed me. I quickly decided if she didn't mind I would spend the day in her gay company. We shared a plate of whelks strolling side by side. I said she weren't too old to take a donkey ride But I didn't mind when she laughed and said no So we paused for a while and listened to the minstrel show. There was a notice at the Palace Pier It said there was to be a dance that night and it wasn't dear. I explained of course that I could only waltz And so we waltzed to every tune they played. Nine o'clock come round we had to take the charabanc Albert was too drunk to play the banjo but still we sang All except Marjorie, I could tell at a glance Because me and Albert was leaving for France. I said "We'll both be home in a week or two Me and Albert and Lord Kitchener will teach the Hun a thing or two. I'm sure to return, after me do not yearn And we will waltz together all our lives through."
8.
Workington way, when lads left school,
'Twas just the pit and foundry beckoned,
Young Joe went down to hew the coal,
But not for long, so some folks reckoned.
For Joe could tackle hard and Joe could run,
He only needed time for growing,
And soon he'd signed his name to play
And to the city moved away. Now on the sports page he'd appear,
The idol of the local lasses.
Out on the field he played it fair
While all the girls made forward passes.
Until another match turned people's heads
Jarrow lads v ruling classes.
And with no future in it now
It's home again and up The Brow. Back underground to hear no lark
For thirty years from dawn till evening,
Until the coal had left its mark
And to the bank the earth returned him,
No more to sweat his days out in the dark,
Some years on top the dust had earned him.
And all the while the sickness grew,
Still he'd ask what he could do for you. He'd do odd jobs for one and all
Though snow was thick or rain was teeming.
And all the world would seem to call;
The kettle never finished steaming.
“Reach up”, he'd say, “By God, you're looking thin”,
While mischief in his eyes was gleaming.
“If Lizzie thinks you're hungry still,
They'll be nowt for us in her will.” The day you left I stayed outside
With scalding tears, no comfort knowing.
We all turned up to say goodbye;
The church was filled to overflowing.
𝄆 You'd never have believed it if you'd seen
How many people mourned your going,
And just how lucky folks still feel
To say they knew Joe Peel.
9.
I saw three ships come sailing by Come sailing by, come sailing by And I saw three ships come sailing by So early in the morning And the masts and the spars were hung with crystal Glittering crystal, ice-cold crystal And the masts and the spars were hung with crystal Early in the morning And the crew were all paid off in silver Glittering silver, ice-cold silver And the crews were all paid off in silver Early in the morning And I wonder what's the weight of gold The weight of gold that a tongue can hold To keep a story so untold of Early in the morning
10.
My name it is Mark Fenner and I am a Yorkshireman; I earn my living by my pen, tell a stirring tale I can, But the one I tell you now boys, was writ by foolish men, When petals fell from a Rose of York, never to bloom again. Come, all you young unmarried men, the boys of the Bulldog breed, We're looking for the strong and brave, that's what Britannia needs; We'll fight the Hun in France and drown them in the Seine; But petals fell from a Rose of York, never to bloom again. Well, we first shipped out to Egypt where the heat was hard to bear; We were waiting for the call to France, for the Bosche were fighting there; And, we talked of what we'd do boys, brother, son and friend; But petals fell from a Rose of York, never to bloom again. At last we heard the Push was on and we sailed across the Med, We little thought in two weeks time we'd most of us be dead, And the girls back home would weep with a grief so hard to mend; And petals fell from a Rose of York, never to bloom again. With shouts of joy we led the charge towards the German wire; The handsome Mason was first to fall as the guns they opened fire; His face no longer handsome on the barbs he met his end; And petals fell from a Rose of York, never to bloom again. We had a sergeant major, bold by nature, Bold by name, But the German guns don't pick and choose and Bold died just the same; Many gallants followed after, the coin of life to spend; And petals fell from a Rose of York, never to bloom again. Well, we didn't want to lose you, but we thought you ought to go; Your King and country need you, Lord Kitchener told us so, But the story I’ve now told you was writ by foolish men; When petals fell from a Rose of York, never to bloom again.
11.
Oh the sky was dark and the night advanced When a convict came to the Isle of France And round his leg was a ringing chain And his country was of the Shamrock Green I'm from the Shamrock this convict cried That has been tossed on the ocean wide For being unruly I do declare I was doomed to transport these seven long years When six of them they were up and past I was coming home to make up the last When the winds did blow and the seas did roar They cast me here on this foreign shore So then the coastguard he played a part And with some brandy, he cheered the convict's heart Although the night is far advanced You shall find a friend on the Isle of France So he sent a letter all to the queen Concerning the wreck of the Shamrock Green And his freedom came by a speedy post For the absent convict they thought was lost God bless the coastguard this convict cried For he's saved my life from the ocean wide And I'll drink his health in a flowing glass And here's success to the Isle Of France
12.
Across the evening sky all the birds are leaving
But how can they know it's time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I have no thought of time For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes? Sad deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving
Ah, but then you know it's time for them to go
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving
I do not count the time For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes? And I am not alone while my love is near me
I know it will be so until it's time to go
So come the storms of winter and then the birds in spring again
I have no fear of time For who knows how my love grows?
And who knows where the time goes?
13.
So goodbye my Florence Jane Goodbye my ragtime queen I sometimes realise We’ve lost those laughing eyes You didn’t need those holy men To tell you what was right and who and when You just lived from day to day Taking life that came your way So goodbye my Florence Jane Goodbye my ragtime queen I sometimes realise We’ve lost those laughing eyes And when the band began to play thoughts went back times of yesterday Evening gowns parasols and lace A young girl in a young man’s embrace So goodbye my Florence Jane Goodbye my ragtime queen I sometimes realise We’ve lost those laughing eyes
14.

about

In 2014, following a severe and rather pointed reminder of my mortality I decided to do a sort of musical autobiography. This is Volume 1, and covers music I learned and sang in the 1960s and 70s. I played many sorts of music then but have concentrated here on folk music traditional and contemporary.
I started singing in the Lobster Pot at Instow, North Devon, and the Golden Fleece at Barnstaple - both fine venues with good resident singers and a great guest list. I moved on to University at Leicester in 1968, which had a fine set of resident singers of which I was lucky to be one. Audiences regularly numbered over 100, and the atmosphere was brilliant. I saw such luminaries as Cyril Tawney, Carthy and Swarbrick, Maddy Prior and many other there.
I later moved to Yorkshire where I had a couple of great years at the magnificent Holy Ground Folk Club at Bubwith, East Yorkshire, where a combination of excellent singers, a marvellous and knowledgeable audience again of well over 100 each week, a string of great guests and the inimitable management of Harvey and Val Lakin made for an unforgettable experience. One of the proudest moments of my life was when they decided to make me an honorary Yorshireman!!
These songs represent my tribute to some of the giants of the folk revival. I enjoyed singing them immensely, and am just as addicted to them as I was all those years ago.

The album photo is of me in my natural habitat in the Queens Arms at Bromyard on the Festival Sunday at the fabled Hodges Dump session!!

All songs and music by Alan Courtney, who sang all vocals and played acoustic and electric guitars, mandolin, bass and keyboards.

Alan Courtney December 2014.

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released October 23, 2020

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Alan Courtney England, UK

I've decided to collect here all my solo recordings from 2002 onwards, when I left my job and started to work for myself.

I was born and raised in Devon, but have lived the last 40 years in Malvern. I've played folk music in clubs, sessions, festivals etc since the age of 15.
I played in rock n blues, then folk bands Malthouse Passage and Set em up Joe. I've recorded many albums showcased here
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