B I G P A D D Y
NON-ALBUM SONGS: COVERS & PUB TUNES

There are a number of songs, a great many actually, that are regularly played at Big Paddy shows but have never made it onto any CD album. This is mainly due to the high cost that would be involved in getting the rights to record the songs; however, with some of them, it's just that they simply haven't made it onto an album yet. Anyway, here's the lyrics to most of them!

CONTENTS:

"Her Father Didn't Like Me Anyway" by the Humblebums (also the Pogues)
"1952 Vincent Black Lightning" by Richard Thompson
"Bottle Of Smoke" by The Pogues
"Donegal Express" by Shane MacGowan
"I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" by U2
"Folsom Prison Blues" by Johnny Cash
"Finnegan's Wake" (traditional)
"What Shall We Do With The Drunken Sailor?" (traditional)
"If I Ever Leave This World Alive" by Flogging Molly
"The Wild Rover" (traditional)
"Before You Accuse Me" by Bo Diddley (also Eric Clapton)
"Megan" (new) by Big Paddy
"What's Left Of The Flag" by Flogging Molly
"The Broad Majestic Shannon" by The Pogues
"Brown-Eyed Girl" by Van Morrison
"Star Of The County Down" (traditional)
"Battle Of New Orleans" by Jimmie Driftwood / Johnny Horton
"More Pricks Than Kicks" by Shane MacGowan & The Popes

HER FATHER DIDN'T LIKE ME ANYWAY
by Gerry Rafferty / The Humblebums, 1969

The coat she wore still lies upon the bed,
The book I gave her that she never read;
She left without a single word to say -
Her father didn't like me anyway.

She always wanted more than I could give;
She wasn't happy with the way we lived
I didn't feel like asking her to stay -
Her father didn't like me anyway.

And oh, Daddy didn't like the clothes that I wear;
And oh, Daddy didn't like my curly red hair
And perhaps, if we'd tried, we could have found something to say -
But oh, Daddy didn't care - anyway.

To tell the truth, I didn't have the nerve;
I know I only got what I deserved
So now she's taken leave of me today -
Her father was a right cunt anyway...

And oh, Daddy didn't like the clothes that I wear;
And oh, Daddy didn't like my curly red hair
And perhaps, if we had talked, he could've seen something in me -
But oh, Daddy didn't care - anyway.

The coat she wore still lies upon the bed,
The book I gave her that she never read
She left without a single word to say;
And her father didn't like me anyway...

History: This song first appeared on the 1969 release "The New Humblebums" by The Humblebums. The original line-up of the band -- Billy Connolly and Tam Harvey -- released one album ("The First Collection of Merry Melodies") before Gerry Rafferty replaced Harvey (hence the name change). Connolly and Rafferty released two more albums before splitting up. Shane MacGowan & The Popes covered this song on their album "The Snake", and Big Paddy follows Shane's version a bit more than the original version.

1952 VINCENT BLACK LIGHTNING
by Richard Thompson

Said Red Molly to James, "That's a fine motorbike -
A girl could feel special on any such like."
Said James to Red Molly, "Well my hat's off to you!
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952.
And I've seen you at the corners and cafes, it seems;
Red hair on black leather: my favorite color scheme."
And he pulled her on behind
And down to Box Hill
They did ride...

Said James to Red Molly, "Here's a ring for your right hand;
But I'll tell you in earnest, I'm a dangerous man.
I've fought with the law since I was seventeen,
I robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine.
Now I'm 21 years, I might make 22;
And I don't mind dying, but for the love of you.
And if fate should break my stride,
Then I'll give you my Vincent
To ride."

"Come down, come down, Red Molly," called Sergeant McRae
"For they've taken young James Adie for armed robbery;
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside.
Oh, come down, Red Molly to his dying bedside."
When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left;
He was running out of road, he was running out of breath
But he smiled to see her cry,
And said "I'll give you my Vincent
To ride..."

Says James, "In my opinion, there's nothing in this world
Beats a '52 Vincent and a red-headed girl.
Now, Nortons and Indians and Greeveses won't do -
They don't have a soul like a Vincent '52."
He reached for her hand, and he slipped her the keys
He said "I've got no further use for these;
I see angels on Ariels in leather and chrome,
Swooping down from heaven to carry me home."
And he gave her one last kiss, and died
And he gave her his Vincent
To ride...

History: Currently one of the most-requested songs in the history of National Public Radio. Richard Thompson played in Fairport Convention at the age of 18, when they were basically a cover band.

BOTTLE OF SMOKE
by The Pogues (MS)

Thanks and praises, thanks to jesus -
I bet on the Bottle of Smoke;
I went to hell, and to the races -
To bet on the Bottle of Smoke.

The day being clear, the sky being bright
He came up on the left, like a streak of light;
Like a drunken fuck on a Saturday night -
Up came the Bottle of Smoke.

Twenty-fucking-five-to-one,
Me gambling days are done!
I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke
And MY HORSE WON!

Stewards inquiries, swift and fiery -
I had the Bottle of Smoke;
Inquisitions and suppositions -
I had the Bottle of Smoke!

Fuck the stewards, a trip to Lourdes
Might give the old fuckers the power of sight;
Screaming springers 'n' stoppers and call out coppers,
But the money still gleams in my hand like a light!

Bookies cursing, cars reversing -
I had the Bottle of Smoke;
Glasses steaming, vessels bursting -
I had the Bottle of Smoke!

Twenty-fucking-five-to-one,
Me gambling days are done!
I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke
And MY HORSE WON!

Slip a fifty to the wife,
And for each brat a crisp new five,
To give me a break on a Saturday night -
When I had the Bottle of Smoke.

Priests and maidens, drunk as pagans!
They had the Bottle of Smoke;
Sins forgiven, and celebrations!
They had the Bottle of Smoke.

Fuck the yanks, and drink their wives
The moon is clear, the sky is bright!
I'm happy as the horses, shite -
Up came the Bottle of Smoke!

Twenty-fucking-five-to-one,
Me gambling days are done!
I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke
And MY HORSE WON!

History: A day at the races never sounded so good.

DONEGAL EXPRESS
by Shane MacGowan & The Popes (MS)

Who dares to speak of Donegal
You get kicks in the bars and kicks in the balls
The harp that played in Tara's halls
Is burning on the dump;

Virginia is a gin town,
Belturbot is a sin town
And all the boys from Skintown
Are in England on the lump!

Got pissed in Letterkenny,
With darlin' sportin' Jenny
Spent me very last penny,
And we made it in the press;

The husband caught me in the bed,
And tried to shoot me in the head
Had to swim the stream to get
The Donegal Express!

Kahaya! (You fuck!)
Come hell or high water
I might have fucked your missus,
But I didn't fuck your daughter!
Fol-diddle-dee-ay
Fol-diddle-dee-ay...

As sure as I'm Father Emmett,
I've a King Dong down me Semmett
As any girl will tell you,
From Cavan down to Clare;

Back in sweet Virginia,
In the toilet with Lavinia
I nearly fucked her brains out,
And tore her party dress!

A shit, a shave, a shower,
And half a pint of Powers
Then off again to get on board
The Donegal Express!

Kahaya! (YOU FUCK!)
Come hell or (HIGH WATER)
I might have fucked your missus,
But I didn't fuck your daughter!
Fol-diddle-dee-ay
Fol-diddle-dee-ay

Kahaya!
(YOU FUCK!)

History: A typically rowdy and obscene Shane MacGowan tune, this one.

I STILL HAVEN'T FOUND WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR
by U2 (MS)

I have climbed highest mountains,
I have run through the fields -
Only to be with you
Only to be with you
I have run, I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls...
Only to be with you

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for;
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

I have kissed honeyed lips,
Felt my healing in her fingertips -
It burned like fire,
This burning desire

I have spoke with the tongue of angels,
I have held the hand of a devil -
It was warm in the night...
I was cold as a stone.

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for;
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

I believe in the Kingdom Come,
When all the colors will bleed into one,
Bleed into one -
Well, yes I'm still running...

You broke the bonds, and you
Loosed the chains
Carried the cross, of my shame
Of my shame...
You know I believed it.

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for;
No, I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for...

History: This song was first released by the Irish rock band U2 in 1987. The song grew from another song called "Under The Weather Girls", of which a rough version was taped. However, co-producer Daniel Lanois didn't like it — except for the drum track, which the band used as the foundation of "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For". Brian Eno helped to produce this song.

FOLSOM PRISON BLUES
by Johnny Cash (below as sung by Big Paddy)

I hear that train a-comin',
It's rollin' round the bend
I ain't seen the sunshine, since
I don't know when
I've been stuck in Folsom Prison,
Time keeps draggin' on
I hear that lonesome whistle blowin',
All the way to San Antone...

When I was just a baby,
My mama told me "Son,
always be a good boy,
Don´t ever play with guns!"
But I shot a man in Reno,
Just to watch him die
Now every time I hear that whistle,
I hang my head and cry...

I bet there's rich folks eating
In a fancy dining car
They're probably drinkin' whiskey,
And smokin' big cigars.
Well I know I had it coming,
I know I can't be free
But those people keep a movin'
And that's what tortures me...

Well if they'd free me from this prison,
If that railroad train was mine
I bet I'd move just a little further,
Just a little further down the line
Far from Folsom prison, baby
That's where I want to stay
And I'd let that lonesome whistle blowin'
Blow my blues away!

History: This song was written by Johnny Cash in the early 1950s, and recorded by him and his trio in 1956. It combines the train song and the prison song, two staples that were vital to both country music and Cash's career. Folsom Prison is located near Sacramento, CA, and though many assume the "killed a man in Reno" line refers to Reno Nevada, it is more likely to be Reno California, since the time is served at Folsom. Cash performed and recorded a version of the song actually in Folsom Prison, on January 13, 1968 -- in fact, he opened with it. Johnny Cash never actually served time in prison.

FINNEGAN'S WAKE
(traditional)

Tim Finnegan lived on Walkin Street,
A gentle Irishman mighty odd
He'd a beautiful brogue both rich and sweet,
And to rise in the world he carried a hod;
Now Tim had a sort of tippler's way,
With a love of the liquor poor Tim was born,
And to help him on his way each day
He'd a drop of the creature every morn.

Whack-fol-le-dol, now,
Dance wi' your partner,
Round the floor you trot and shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you?
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 tea and cake,
then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch!
Biddy O'Brien began to cry,
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
Tim, mavourneen! 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...
Bedad, he revives, see how he rises!
Tim Finnegan rising from the bed,
Cryin' "Throwin' your whiskey around like blazes --
t'underin' Jaysus, do ye think I'm dead?"

History: Drunken Sailor was a sea shanty (work song) often sung when raising a sail or raising the anchor, which is the reference for “Up She Rises” in the song’s chorus. Such songs were the only ones allowed in the Royal Navy. Most often, only two or three verses were sung but verses were often added until the task was completed. The air was taken from a traditional Irish dance and march tun, "Oró Sé do Bheatha 'Bhaile", and is in the dorian mode.

IF I EVER LEAVE THIS WORLD ALIVE
by Flogging Molly (MS)

If I ever leave this world alive,
I'll thank for the things you did in my life
If I ever leave this world alive,
I'll come back down and sit beside your feet tonight
Wherever I am, you'll always be
More than just a memory;
If I ever leave this world alive...

If I ever leave this world alive,
I'll take on all the sadness that I left behind
If I ever leave this world alive,
The madness that you feel will soon subside
So in a word, don't shed a tear --
I'll be here when it all gets weird;
If I ever leave this world alive...

So when in doubt, just call my name,
Just before you go insane.
If I ever leave this world --
Hey I may never leave this world!
But if I ever leave this world alive...

She says "I'm okay; I'm alright,
Though you have gone from my life.
You said that it would,
Now everything should, be all right."

She says "I'm okay! I'm alright!
Though you have gone from my life;
You said that it would,
Now everything should, be all right,
Yeah it should be alright!

History:

BEFORE YOU ACCUSE ME
by Bo Diddley

Before you accuse me, take a look at yourself
Before you accuse me, take a look at yourself
You say I've been spending my money on other women
You've been taking money from someone else

I called your mama 'bout three or four nights ago
I called your mama 'bout three or four nights ago
Well your mother said, "Son,
Don't call my daughter no more"

Come back home baby, try my love one more time
Come back home baby, try my love one more time
If I don't go on and quit you
I'm gonna lose my mind

History:

WILD ROVER
(traditional)

Oh, I've been a wild rover for many's the year,
And I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer;
But now I'm returning 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 wild rover --
No never no more.

I went in to an alehouse I used to frequent,
And I told the landlady me money was spent;
I asked her for credit, she answered me "Nay --
Such custom as yours I can have any day."

And it's no, nay, never!
No, nay never no more,
Will I play the wild rover --
No never no more.

I took up from my pocket ten sovereigns bright,
And the landlady's eyes opened wide with delight:
She says "I have whiskeys and wines of the best,
And the words that I spoke, sure were only in jest!"

And it's no, nay, never!
No, nay never no more,
Will I play the wild rover --
No never no more.

I'll go home to my parents, confess what I've done,
And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son;
And when they've caressed me, as oft times before,
I never will play the wild rover no more!

And it's no, nay, never!
No, nay never no more,
Will I play the wild rover --
No never no more.

History:

WHAT'S LEFT OF THE FLAG
by Flogging Molly (MS)

His eyes they closed and his last breath spoke
he had seen all to be seen
A life once full, now an empty vase
Wilt the blossums on his early grave
Walk away me boy, walk away me boy
And by mornin' we'll be free
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear
And raise what's left of the flag for me

Then the rosary beads count them one, two, three
Fell apart as they hit the floor
In our garb of black we must pay respect
To the colour we're born to mourn
Walk away me boys, walk away me boys
And by morning we'll be free
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear
And raise what's left of the flag for me

In his place there grew an angry festered wound
Filled with hatred and remorse
Where I'd pick and scratch till the blood it matched
The silent rage not that fills my lungs
For there are many ways to kill a man they say
With bayonet, axe, or sword
But son a bullet fired from a shapeless guise
Leaves but the shell of a Thompson gun

Walk away me boys, walk away me boys!
And by morning we'll be free.
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear,
And raise what's left of the flag for me!

From the East out to the Western shore
Where many men and many more will fall
But no angel flies with me tonight
Till freedom reigns on all
And curse the name for which we slaved our days
Till every man shall his kingdom come
But sure as night turns day
Ends the passion play
Oh my god what have they done?
With madman's rage, well they dug our graves
But the dead rise again you fools

Walk away me boys, walk away me boys
And by morning we'll be free --
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear,
And raise what's left of the flag for me!

Walk away me boys, walk away me boys
And by morning we'll be free...
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear,
And raise what's left of the flag for me!

History:

THE BROAD MAJESTIC SHANNON
by The Pogues (MS)

The last time I saw you was down at the Greek's;
There was whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks!
You sang me a song, as pure as the breeze
Blowing up the road to Glenaveigh.
I sat for a while at the cross at Finnoe,
Where young lovers would meet when the flowers were in bloom;
Heard the men coming home from the fair at Shinrone,
Their hearts in Tipperary wherever they go!

Take my hand, and dry your tears, babe,
Take my hand! Forget your fears, oh babe;
There's no pain, theres no more sorrow,
They're all gone, gone in the years babe

I sat for a while by the gap in the wall,
Found a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball;
Heard the cards being dealt, and the rosary called,
And a fiddle playing Sean Dun Na Ngall!
And the next time I see you we'll be down at the Greek's,
There'll be whiskey on Sunday, and tears on our cheeks;
For it's stupid to laugh, and its useless to bawl
About a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball!

So I walked as day was dawning,
Where small birds sang and leaves were falling;
Where we once watched the row boats landing,
By the broad majestic Shannon.

History: The River Shannon (Irish: Sionainn) is Ireland's longest river; it divides the West of Ireland (mostly the province of Connacht) from the east and south (Leinster and most of Munster). The river has been an important waterway since antiquity. It was first mapped by Ptolemy, and it exceeds the length of all other rivers in Ireland. Limerick city stands watch at the point where the river water meets the sea water of the estuary, and only east of Limerick is the river no longer affected by the tides. The river began flowing along its present course after the end of the Ice Age. Vikings settled in the region in 10th century and used the river to raid the rich monasteries deep inland. In the Irish Confederate Wars of 1641-53, the Irish retreated behind the Shannon in 1650, and held out for two further years against English Parliamentarian forces. As late as 1916, the leaders of the Easter Rising planned to have their forces in the west "hold the line of the Shannon". However, the rebels were neither well enough armed nor well enough equipped to attempt such an ambitious policy.

BROWN-EYED GIRL
by Van Morrison

Hey where did we go, days when the rains came?
Down in the hollow, playin' a new game
Laughing and a running hey, hey, skipping and a jumping
In the misty morning fog, with our hearts a thumpin'
And you, my brown eyed girl, you my brown eyed girl...

Whatever happened to Tuesday and so slow?
Going down the old mine, with a transistor radio
Standing in the sunlight laughing, hiding behind a rainbow's wall,
Slipping and sliding, all along the water fall,
With you, my brown eyed girl, you my brown eyed girl...

Do you remember when... we used to sing,
Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da

So hard to find my way, now that I'm all on my own
I saw you just the other day, my how you have grown
Cast my memory back there, Lord, sometime I'm overcome thinking 'bout
Making love in the green grass, behind the stadium with you
My brown eyed girl, you my brown eyed girl

Do you remember when we used to sing
Sha la la la la la la la la la la te da.

History: written and recorded in 1967 by Northern Irish singer-songwriter, Van Morrison. He was back in Belfast seeking a new recording company after the breakup of his previous band, and he received a phone call from the owner of Bang Records; he flew to New York City and hastily signed a contract, then recorded eight songs in two days. However, according to Morrison himself, due to the hastily signed contract he never received any royalties for writing or recording this song. The song was originally titled "Brown-Skinned Girl" but Morrison later changed it to "Brown Eyed Girl" because he felt it sounded better. The song's nostalgic lyrics about a former love were considered too suggestive at the time to be played on many radio stations; a radio-edit of the song was released that cut out the lyrics "making love in the green grass," replacing them with "laughin' and a-runnin'" from a previous verse. The remastered "Best Of" CD has the original lyrics intact on the disc.

STAR OF THE COUNTY DOWN
(traditional)

Near Banbridge Town, in the County Down,
One morning last July,
Down a bóithrín green came a sweet colleen,
And she smiled as she passed me by.
She looked so neat, from her two bare feet
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair,
Such a coaxing elf, sure, I shook myself
To make sure I was standing there.

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 turned my head
And I gazed with a feeling rare
And I says, says I, to a passer-by:
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
He smiled at me, and he says, says he,
"That's the gem of old Ireland's crown.
Sweet Rosey McCann from the banks of the Bann,
She's the Star of the County Down".

She'd a soft brown eye and a look so sly,
And a smile like the rose in June
And you hung on each note from her lily-white throat,
As she lilted an Irish tune
At the pattern dance, you were held in a trance,
As she tripped through a reel or a jig;
And when her eyes she'd roll, she'd coax, on my soul,
A spud from a hungry pig.

I've traveled a bit, but I never was hit
Since my roving career began;
But fair and square, I surrendered there
To the charms of young Rose McCann.
I'd a heart to let, and no tenant yet
Though I'd searched countryside and town;
But in she went, and I asked no rent
From the Star of the county Down.

At the harvest fair she'll be surely there
So I'll dress in my Sunday clothes.
With my shoes shone bright, and my hat cocked right
For a smile from my nut-brown Rose.
No horse I'll yoke, no pipe I'll smoke
Though my plough with the rust turn brown,
Till a smiling bride by my own fireside
Sits the Star of the County Down.

History: This old and intricately-rhymed Irish ballad shares its melody with the church hymn "Led By the Spirit" and many other works as well, which is typical among traditional folk tunes.

BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS
by Jimmie Driftwood / Johnny Horton

In 1814 we took a little trip
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip
We took a little bacon and we took a little beans
And we caught the bloody British in the town of New Orleans

We fired our guns and the British kept a'comin
There wasn't nigh as many as there was a while ago
We fired once more and they began to runnin' on
Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico...

We looked down the river and we see'd the British come
And there must have been a hundred of'em beatin' on the drum
They stepped so high and they made the bugles ring
We stood by our cotton bales and didn't say a thing

[Chorus]

Old Hickory said we could take 'em by surprise
If we didn't fire our muskets 'til we looked 'em in the eye
We held our fire 'til we see'd their faces well
Then we opened up with squirrel guns and really gave 'em... well

[Chorus]

Yeah, they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles
And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn't go
They ran so fast that the hounds couldn't catch 'em
Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.

We fired our cannon 'til the barrel melted down.
So we grabbed an alligator and we fought another round
We filled his head with cannon balls, and powdered his behind
And when we touched the powder off, the gator lost his mind

[Chorus]

Yeah, they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles
And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn't go
They ran so fast that the hounds couldn't catch 'em
Down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico

History: Written by schoolteacher Jimmy Driftwood but popularized by country singer Johnny Horton, this song details the 1815 Battle of New Orleans from the perspective of an American fighting alongside Andrew Jackson against British forces. The melody has its roots in a well-known American fiddle tune The 8th of January, which was the date of the Battle of New Orleans. Jimmy Driftwood, a school principal in Arkansas with a passion for history, set a historical account of the battle to this music in an attempt to get students interested in learning history. As noted, Johnny Horton's 1959 version is the best-known. Horton also recorded an alternative version for release in British Commonwealth countries which had more favourable lyrics toward the British. The word "British" was replaced with "Rebels", along with a few other differences.

MORE PRICKS THAN KICKS
by Shane MacGowan

If you were around, we could go on the town
Instead of just go on the booze
If you'd stay in my life, we'd kick up the high life
Country Irish like we used to do

And we'd drink and we'd dance,
and we'd dance and we'd drink
and we'd drink and we'd dance,
and we'd dance and we'd drink

So at my command won’t you take my hand?
And we'll dance the final dance

But it's more pricks than kicks,
That's what it is
I'm a scumbag, a lout, thats the way things are

If you name me a street, then I'll name you a bar
And I'll walk right through Hell just to buy you a jar

History: ???

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B I G P A D D Y NON-ALBUM SONGS: COVERS & PUB TUNES

B I G P A D D Y
NON-ALBUM SONGS: COVERS & PUB TUNES