Town of Ballybay
Fred Bulger
recording. Unfortunately, with Tommy's thick accent, I can't make out
what is being sung in many instances. If anybody knows the lyrics I'd
appreciate if they mailed/posted them.
It's quite a humurous little song I might add. Are there any other
recordings of it?
thanks!
--
Fred Bulger | 1-(902)-429-3057
6137 Charles St. | bul...@ug.cs.dal.ca
Halifax, Nova Scotia | fbu...@ac.dal.ca
CANADA B3l 1K8 | bul...@moon.sba.dal.ca
Chip Olson@somewhere.out.there
> I've tried to write out the words to this song from a Makem & Clancy
>recording. Unfortunately, with Tommy's thick accent, I can't make out
>what is being sung in many instances. If anybody knows the lyrics I'd
>appreciate if they mailed/posted them.
>
> It's quite a humurous little song I might add. Are there any other
>recordings of it?
I have it on Boiled In Lead's album "Orb"- BiL is a Minnesota-based Celtic/
world music thrash band, lots of fun.
In the town of Ballybay there was a lassie dwelling
I knew her very well and her story's worth the telling
Her father kept a still, he was a good distilller
And when she took to drinking, why the devil couldn't fill her
And it's ringle-dingle-dum
To me ringle-dingle-laddie-o
Ringle-dingle-dum
to me whack! fol the laddie-o
She had children up the stairs and children by the byre
Another ten or twelve sitting roaring by the fire
She fed them on potatoes and soup she made from nettle
And lumps of hairy bacon that she boiled up in the kett;es
She had lovers by the score, every Tom and Dick and Harry
She was courted day and night and still she wouldn't marry
Then she fell in love with a fellow with a stammer
When he tried to run away she hit him with a hammer
She's led the sheltered life eating porridge and black pussing
She terrorized her husband 'til he died right sudden
And when her husband died she felt so awful sorry
She stuffed him in a canvas bag and tossed him in a quarry
Now she said she couldn't dance unless she had her wellies on
But when she had them on she danced as well as anyone
She wouldn't go to bed unless she had her shimmy on
But when she had it on, God, she'd go to bed with anyone
And she had a wooden leg, it was hollow up the middle
She used to put a string in and play it like a fiddle
She played it day and night, played it night and day oh
And when the neighbors told her "Stop!" she played her fiddle anyway
--
-Chip Olson. | ol...@husc.harvard.edu | ceo@{gnu.ai,silver.lcs}.mit.edu
This article is a natural product. The slight variations in spelling and
grammar enhance its individual character and beauty and in no way are to
be considered flaws or defects.
Kerry K. Osborne
In the town of Ballybay, there was a lassie dwellin'
I knew her very well, and her story's worth-a-tellin'.
Her father kept a still, and he was a good distiller,
But when she took to the drinkin' what the devil wouldn't fill 'er.
Wish me ring-a-ding-a-dong, a-ring-a-ding-a-derrio,
A-ring-a-ding-a-dong, whack fol' the derrio.
And she said she couldn't dance, unless she had her welly on,
But when she had it on, she could dance as well as anyone.
She wouldn't go to bed, unless she had her shimmy on,
But when she had it on, she would go to bed with anyone.
Chorus (Wish me ring...)
Well she had a wooden leg, it was hollow down the middle,
And she used to tie a string on it and play it like a fiddle.
She fiddled in the hall, she fiddled in the alleyway,
She didn't give a damn, she had to fiddle anyway.
Chorus
She had lovers by the score, every Tom and Dick and Harry,
She was courted night and day, but still she wouldn't marry.
And then she fell in love with a fella with a stammer,
When he tried to run away, she hit him with a hammer.
Chorus
They had children by the score, they had children by the byer,
And another ten or twelve sittin' growin' by the fire.
She fed 'em on potatas and on soup she made from nettles,
And on lumps of hairy bacon that she boiled up in the kettle.
Chorus
So she led a sheltered life, eatin' porridge and black puddin'
And she terrorized her man, until he died right sudden.
And when her fella died, she was feelin' kinda sorry,
So she rolled him in a sheet, and she threw him in the quarry.
Chorus
There you go...enjoy :)
Chip Olson@somewhere.out.there
>
>She's led the sheltered life eating porridge and black pussing
^^^^^^^
Oh *dear*... my fingers kind of slipped there. "Pudding", thank you very much.
Mike Woods, sqa, 581-1486,
Boiled In Lead does a great electric version on ORB.
The lyrics may be a bit easier to discern.
woody
Maid in Bedlam
>>
>>She's led the sheltered life eating porridge and black pussing
> ^^^^^^^
>Oh *dear*... my fingers kind of slipped there. "Pudding", thank you very much.
Don't apologize... it was such a lovely Freudian slip and it provided me with
my daily giggle quotient. :)
- Libby Doe,
Unsheltered.