Irish Drinking Songs: The Cat Lover's Companion
by Marc Gunn
-
Digital Album
Streaming + DownloadIncludes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.Purchasable with gift card -
Full Digital Discography Full Digital Discography
Get all 26 Marc Gunn releases available on Bandcamp and save 10%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Selcouth, St Patrick's Day, As Long As I'm Flyin', Flower of Scotland, Pirates vs. Dragons, St Patrick's Day Songs for Kids, Celtic Christmas Greetings, Sci Fi Drinking Songs, and 18 more.
Purchasable with gift card$159.30 USD or more (10% OFF)
You own this
1. |
Finnegan's Wake
02:52
|
|||
|
Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street,
A gentle Irishman mighty odd
He had a brogue both rich and sweet,
An' to rise in the world he carried a hod
You see he'd a sort of a tipplers way
but for the love for the liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on his way each day,
he'd a drop of the craythur every morn
Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner
round the flure yer trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth they tell ye,
we had lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake
One morning Tim got rather full,
his head felt heavy which made him shake
Fell from a ladder and he broke his skull, and
they carried him home his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet,
and laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet
and a barrel of porter at his head
His friends assembled at the wake,
and Widow Finnegan called for lunch
First she brought in tay and cake,
then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien began to cry,
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see,
Tim, auvreem! O, why did you die?",
"Will ye hould your gob?" said Paddy McGee
Then Maggie O'Connor took up the cry,
"O Biddy" says she "you're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
and sent her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon engage,
t'was woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
and a row and a ruction soon began
Mickey Maloney ducked his head
when a bucket of whiskey flew at him
It missed, and falling on the bed,
the liquor scattered over Tim
Now the spirits new life gave the corpse, my joy!
Tim jumped like a Trojan from the bed
Cryin will ye walup each girl and boy,
t'underin' Jaysus, do ye think I'm dead?"
|
||||
2. |
Black Velvet Band
03:26
|
|||
|
Black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground whereon she stands
I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes.
And I wish the day, it soon will come
That she and I will be as one
I'll go to the Clyde and I'll mourn and weep
Where satisfied I never shall be
I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines
And suffer death ten thousand times
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
There's a tear in your eye, And I'm wondering why,
For it never should be there at all.
With such pow'r in your smile, Sure a stone you'd beguile,
So there's never a teardrop should fall.
When your sweet lilting laughter's Like some fairy song,
And your eyes twinkle bright as can be;
You should laugh all the while And all other times smile,
And now, smile a smile for me.
When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away.
For your smile is a part Of the love in your heart,
And it makes even sunshine more bright.
Like the linnet's sweet song, Crooning all the day long,
Comes your laughter and light.
For the springtime of life Is the sweetest of all
There is ne'er a real care or regret;
And while springtime is ours Throughout all of youth's hours,
Let us smile each chance we get.
|
||||
4. |
The Moonshiner
02:19
|
|||
|
I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler,
I'm a long way from home
And if you don't like me,
Well, leave me alone
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've been a moonshiner for many a year
I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer
I'll go to some hollow, I'll set up my still
And I'll make you a gallon for a ten shilling bill
I'll go to some hollow in this count-er-y
Ten gallons of wash I can go on a spree
No women to follow, the world is all mine
I love none so well as I love the moonshine
Oh, moonshine, dear moonshine, oh, how I love thee
You killed me old father, but ah you try me
Now bless all moonshiners and bless all moonshine
Their breath smells as sweet as the dew on the vine
|
||||
5. |
I'll Tell My Ma
01:59
|
|||
|
I'll tell my ma when I get home,
The boys won't leave the girls alone
They pull my hair and stole my comb
But that's all right till I go home
She is handsome, she is pretty,
She is the Belle of Belfast city
She is a courtin' one, two, three,
Please won't you tell me who is she
Albert Mooney says he loves her,
All the boys are fightin' for her
Knock at the door and ring at the bell,
Saying oh my true love, are you well
Out she comes as white as snow,
Rrings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Ould Johnny Morrissey says she'll die
If she doesn't get the fella with the roving eye
Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come travellin' through the sky
She's as sweet as apple pie,
She'll get her own lad by and by
When she gets a lad of her own
She won't tell her ma when she gets home
Let them all come as they will
For it's Albert Mooney she loves still
|
||||
6. |
Patriot Game
03:17
|
|||
|
Come all ye young rebels, and list while I sing,
For the love of one's country is a terrible thing.
It banishes fear with the speed of a flame,
And it makes us all part of the patriot game.
My name is O'Hanlon, and I've just turned sixteen.
My home is in Monaghan, and where I was weaned
I learned all my life cruel England's to blame,
So now I am part of the patriot game.
This Ireland of ours has too long been half free.
Six counties lie under John Bull's tyranny.
But still De Valera is greatly to blame
For shirking his part in the Patriot game.
They told me how Connolly was shot in his chair,
His wounds from the fighting all bloody and bare.
His fine body twisted, all battered and lame
They soon made me part of the patriot game.
It's nearly two years since I wandered away
With the local battalion of the bold IRA,
For I read of our heroes, and wanted the same
To play out my part in the patriot game.
[extra verse I found]
I don't mind a bit if I shoot down police
They are lackeys for war never guardians of peace
And yet at deserters I'm never let aim
The rebels who sold out the patriot game
And now as I lie here, my body all holes
I think of those traitors who bargained in souls
And I wish that my rifle had given the same
To those Quislings who sold out the patriot game.
|
||||
7. |
Black Is the Color
04:30
|
|||
|
Black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands.
I love the ground whereon she stands
I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes.
And I wish the day, it soon will come
That she and I will be as one
I'll go to the Clyde and I'll mourn and weep
Where satisfied I never shall be
I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines
And suffer death ten thousand times
|
||||
8. |
Bonnie Ship the Diamond
02:37
|
|||
|
The Diamond is a ship, my lads
For the Davis Strait we're bound
The quay it is all garnished
With bonnie lasses 'round
Captain Thompson gives the order
To sail the ocean wide
Where the sun it never sets, my lads
Nor darkness dims the sky
For it's cheer up my lads
Let your hearts never fail
For the bonnie ship the Diamond
Goes a-hunting for the whale
Along the quay at Peterhead
The lasses stand aroon
Wi' their shawls all pulled around them
And the saut tears runnin' doon
Don't you weep, my bonnie wee lass
Though you be left behind
For the rose will grow on Greenland's ice
Before we change our mind
Here's a health to the Resolution
Likewise the Eliza Swan
Three cheers for the Battler of Montrose
And the Diamond, ship of fame
We wear the trousers o' the white
The jackets o' the blue
When we get back to Peterhead
We'll hae sweethearts enou'
It will be bright both day and night
When the Greenland lads come hame
Our ship full up with oil, my lads
And money to our name
We'll make the cradles for to rock
And the blankets for to tear
And every lass in Peterhead sing
"Hushabye, my dear"
|
||||
9. |
Gypsy Rover
04:01
|
|||
|
A gypsy rover came over the hill
Down through the valley so shady.
He whistled and he sang 'til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady.
Ah-dee-doo-ah-dee-doo-dah-day
Ah-dee-doo-ah-dee-day-dee
He whistled and he sang 'til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady.
She left her father's castle gate.
She left her own fine lover.
She left her servants and her state
To follow her gypsy rover.
She left behind her velvet gown
And shoes of Spanish leather
They whistled and they sang 'till the green woods rang
As they rode off together
Last night, she slept on a goose feather bed
With silken sheets for cover
Tonight she'll sleep on the cold, cold ground
Beside her gyspy lover
Her father saddled up his fastest stead
And roamed the valley all over.
Sought his daughter at great speed
And the whistlin' gypsy rover.
He came at last to a mansion fine
Down by the river Claydee.
And there was music and there was wine
For the gypsy and his lady.
"He is no gypsy, my Father," she cried
"but Lord of these lands all over.
And I shall stay 'til my dying day
with my whistlin' gypsy rover."
|
||||
10. |
Wild Rover
02:41
|
|||
|
I've been a wild rover for many a year,
And I spent all my money on whiskey and beer,
But now I've returned with gold in great store,
And I never will play the wild rover no more.
And it's no, nay, never
No, nay, never, no more,
Will I play the rover
No never, no more.
I went down to an ale house I used to frequent,
And I told the landlady my money was spent.
I asked her for credit, but she answered me "Nay.
Such custom like yours I could have any day."
I took from my pocket ten sovereigns bright,
And the landlady's eyes opened wide with delight,
She said, "I have whiskeys and wines of the best,
And I'll take you upstairs, and I'll show you the rest.
I'll go home to my parents, confess what I've done,
And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son.
And if they caress me as oft times before,
I never will play the wild rover no more!
|
||||
11. |
Barnyards of Delgaty
02:21
|
|||
|
As I went down to Turra market,
Turra market for to fee
I fell in with a market farmer,
The barnyards of Delgaty
Linten addie toorin addie,
Linten addie toorin ee
Linten lowrin lowrin lowrin,
The barnyards of Delgaty
He promised me the finest horse
That e'er I set my eyes upon
When I got to the barnyards,
T here was nothing there but skin and bone
As I went down to church on Sunday,
Many's the bonnie lass I see
Sitting by her mothers side,
Winkin' over the pews at me.
Now, I can drink and not get drunken,
I can fight and not be slain
I can court with another mans lass
And I'll be welcome to me ain
Now my candle is burnt oot,
My snotter's fairly on the wane
Fare ye well ye barnyards,
You'll not see me here again.
|
||||
12. |
Fiddler's Green
04:09
|
|||
|
As I roved by the dockside one evening so fair
To view the salt waters and take in the salt air
I heard an old fisherman singing a song
Oh, take me away boys me time is not long
Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I'll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip mates
And I'll see you someday on Fiddlers Green
Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
Where the fishermen go if they don't go to hell
Where the weather is fair and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away
Now when you're in dock and the long trip is through
There's pubs and there's clubs and there's lassies there too
And the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
And there's bottles of rum growing on every tree.
Where the skies are all clear and there's never a gail
And the fish jump on board with one swish on their tail
Where you lie at your leisure, there's no work to do
And the skipper's below making tea for the crew
Now I don't want a harp nor a halo, not me
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
I'll play me old squeeze-box as we sail along
With the wind in the riggin to sing me a song
|
||||
13. |
Lord of the Dance
02:47
|
|
||
about
Are you a member of my Gunn Runners Club on Patreon?
Sign up to get instant access to hundreds of podcasts, downloadable songs, printed sheet music, blogs, stories from the road, and access to Coffee with The Celtfather video concerts. All for as little as $5 per month. Join the Club at patreon.com/celtfather
--
This CD may look a little familiar if you are a fan of Marc Gunn. The tracks are identical to his CD “Irish Drinking Songs: The Cat Lover's Companion” and for good reason. It is the same CD.
Why are there two different covers?
I love the original CD cover, but there were some misunderstandings regarding the original CD. It is not a CD of “Irish Drinking Songs for Cat Lovers”. It's a CD of Irish drinking songs. In fact, it is all the original Irish songs parodied on the the aforementioned CD.
So if you love Irish songs, this is the perfect Marc Gunn twist on Irish drinking songs.
Sign up to get instant access to hundreds of podcasts, downloadable songs, printed sheet music, blogs, stories from the road, and access to Coffee with The Celtfather video concerts. All for as little as $5 per month. Join the Club at patreon.com/celtfather
--
This CD may look a little familiar if you are a fan of Marc Gunn. The tracks are identical to his CD “Irish Drinking Songs: The Cat Lover's Companion” and for good reason. It is the same CD.
Why are there two different covers?
I love the original CD cover, but there were some misunderstandings regarding the original CD. It is not a CD of “Irish Drinking Songs for Cat Lovers”. It's a CD of Irish drinking songs. In fact, it is all the original Irish songs parodied on the the aforementioned CD.
So if you love Irish songs, this is the perfect Marc Gunn twist on Irish drinking songs.
credits
released June 6, 2007
Produced by Ari Koinuma. Photography by Marc Gunn, Kristen Roger, Nancy e. Pearsall. Celtic Cat Logo by Ingrid Houwers. Graphic Design by Molly C. Loar, James McDaniel II
Produced by Ari Koinuma. Photography by Marc Gunn, Kristen Roger, Nancy e. Pearsall. Celtic Cat Logo by Ingrid Houwers. Graphic Design by Molly C. Loar, James McDaniel II
license
tags
about
Marc Gunn Atlanta, Georgia
Marc Gunn is a rhythm and folk musician inspired by Celtic culture, science fiction, fantasy, and cats--Sci F'Irish
music.
He breathes new life into the autoharp, which continues to surprise musical veterans and fans alike for its unique sound and spirited energy. It’s like a satirical jam session between The Clancy Brothers and Weird Al Yankovic.
... more
discography
-
Feb 2022 -
Mar 2018 -
Feb 2017 -
Jul 2016