Jim Malcolm - Traditional Scottish Folk Music Artist and Songwriter

	"Malcolm has one of those pure, warm folk voices (two parts Archie Fisher,one part Dick Gaughan) that one never tires of listening to."-- Dirty Linen.................... "One of the finest singing voices in Scotland in any style." -- The Living Tradition ................

Live in Glenfarg - Lyrics (Page 2)

Sir Patrick Spens (Lyric trad; melody, arrangement Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS)

THE king sits in Dunfermline town
Drinking the blude-red wine;
³Whare will I find a skeely skipper
To sail this new ship o mine?²

And up and spak the eldest knicht
From where he sat by the king's richt knee;
³Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
That ever sail¹d the sea.²

The king has written a braid letter
And seal¹d it with his hand
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens
Who was walking on the strand.

The first word that Sir Patrick read
So loud, loud laugh did he;
The neist word that Sir Patrick read
The tears blinded his e¹e.

Chorus (repeat):
³To Noroway, to Noroway
To Noroway o'er the faem
The king¹s daughter o Noroway
it¹s you must bring her hame.²

³O wha is this has done this deed
And tauld the king o me
To send us out, this time of year
To sail upon the sea?²

³Be it wind, weet, hail, or sleet
Our ship must sail the faem;
The king¹s daughter o Noroway
¹Tis we must bring her hame.²
³Mak ready all my merry men
our gude ship sails the morn.²
³Alas alack, my master dear,
for I fear a deadly storm.

I saw the new moon late yestreen
Wi¹ the auld moon in her arm;
And if we gang to sea the morn
I fear we¹ll come to harm.²

Chorus (repeat)

They hadna sail¹d a league, a league
A league but barely three
The darkness grew the wind blew loud
And gurly grew the sea.

The ankers brak, the topmast lap
And it was sic a deadly storm:
The waves cam owre the broken ship
Till a¹ her sides were sorely torn.

O laith o laith, were our Scots lords
To wet their cork-heel¹d shoon;
But lang afore the play was play¹d
They wat their hats aboon.

And mony was the feather bed
That flatter¹d on the faem;
And mony was the gude lord¹s son
That never mair cam hame.

Chorus (repeat)

O lang, lang may the ladies sit
Wi¹ their fans into their hand
Before they see Sir Patrick Spens
Come sailing to the strand.

Half-owre, to Aberdour
Tis fifty fathoms deep;
And there lies Sir Patrick Spens
Wi¹ the Scots lords at his feet.

Fields of Angus (Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS; pub Malcolm)

Of all the mills that fill Dundee
There¹s no¹ a loom could harness me
The mill keeps clacking it¹s rare that it stills
But I¹ll soon be traipsing through the Sidlaw Hills

Come leave these dark mills and tramp wi me
Through the fields of Angus and roon by the Tay
We¹ll seek good loanins and work when we¹re keen
And we¹ll while summer evenings
fishing pearls frae the stream

Of all the birds that fill the sky
The cheerful lark is the hardest to spy
But the mill keeps clacking, I¹m choked wi the stoor
And I wish that we were camped by Kirriemuir

Of all the months that fill the year
The cruel November fills my fear,
But the mill keeps clackin and winter¹s aroun¹
And we¹ll hae to find a job in Dundee toon.

Repeat chorus

Lochs of the Tay (Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS; pub Malcom)

From Forfar the Dean Water,
Drains the Vale of Strathmore
Doon the lazy looping Isla,
To the Tay by Meiklour,
Now the Isla¹s early roaming,
Is in Highland no¹ in Lowland
Where the Ardle and Shee,
Twine in Ericht¹s company

Chorus: For the lochs o the Tay,
Are the jewels in the crown
Of a Scone coronation
And the streams of the shire
Course the county that¹s dearest tae me.

Now the Garry never tarried
in a melt-swollen spring
With the Bruar, Tilt and Erochty
leaching Atholl¹s high grun¹
From the moors o lonely Rannoch
Trickles peat frae many dark loch
Through the Tummel¹s cleft braes
By the northern highways.

Chorus

Doon the Dochart and the Lochy,
spillin doon tae Loch Tay
Killin tae Kenmore tae Aberfeldy,
just a raft race away

Up the pools o high Breadalbane
slip the sleek Lyon salmon
As they funnel their way
Atween Schiehallion and Tay

Chorus

As the Bran pours by Loch Freuchie
doon the braes tae Dunkeld
So the Almond hurries Sconeward,
aye the Tay¹s eldest child
But the Earn will run her own way,
giving way to Tay only
Ere she flows tae the tide,
wi¹ the Farg on her side,

For the lochs o the Tay
Are the jewels in the crown
Of a Scone coronation
And the streams of the shire
Course the county that¹s dearest tae me.

For the lochs o the Tay
Are the jewels in the crown
Of a Scone coronation
And the streams of the shire
Course the county that¹s
dearest tae me.

The Wild Geese (Words Violet Jacob; music Jim Reid; pub Springthyme Music)

³Oh tell me fit was on your road
You roarin Norlan wind,
As ye cam blawin¹ frae the land
That¹s never frae my mind,
My feet they traivel England
But I¹m deein for the North.²
³My man I¹ve seen the siller tides
Run up the Firth o Forth.²

³Oh wind I ken them weel eneuch
And fine they fall and rise,
And fain I saw the creepin mist
On yonder shore that lies,
But tell me as ye passed them by,
What saw ye on the way?²
³My man I rocked the rovin¹ gulls
That sail abune the Tay.²

³But saw ye naething, leein wind
Afore ye cam tae Fife?
For there¹s muckle lying yont the Tay
That¹s mair tae me nor life.²
³My man I¹ve swept the Angus braes
Ye havna trod for years.²
³Oh wind, forgi¹e a hameless loon
That canna see for tears.²

³And far beyond the Angus straths
I saw the wild geese flee,
A lang, lang skein o beatin wings
Wi their heids towards the sea
And aye their cryin¹ voices trailed
Ahint them on the air...²
³Oh wind, hae mercy, hud yer whisht,
For I daurna listen mair.²

Flowers of Edinburgh (Tune trad; words Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS; pub Malcolm)

You will find on the road
From the castle down to Holyrood
A funny little stone set in the cobbles of St Giles
If you stand for a while you will surely see a local
Passing by and spitting at it in a practised style.
If he wears the maroon he is showing his allegiance
To the Heart of Midlothian, a loyal Proddy man,
If he¹s wearing the green he is spitting disobedience
As a duty-bound supporter of Hibernian.

I can tell you that the flowers of Edinburgh
Aren¹t just the girls at university
They¹re the quirky little things
Auld Reekie often brings
Tae remind you of the history
Beneath your taes.

If you¹re strolling along on the quiet side of Princes Street
Admiring the castle with an ice-cream in your hand
all around are the splendours of Scotia¹s bonnie capital
The Walter Scott memorial, the Ross Bandstand

There¹s a loud sudden bang as your heart ceases beating
As your ice-cream is flying as you¹re diving tae the grun
But you¹re helped to your feet by a dear old local lady
who will tell you you¹ve been startled by the one o¹clock gun

I can tell you that the flowers of Edinburgh
Aren¹t in the floral clock in Princes Street
They¹re the quirky little things
That Auld Reekie often brings
Tae remind you of the history
Beneath your feet
I can tell you that the flowers of Edinburgh
Aren¹t just the girls at university
They¹re the quirky little things
Auld Reekie often brings
Tae remind you of the history
Beneath your taes.

The Party (J. Malcolm MCPS PRS; pub Malcolm)
Well I tanned my father¹s whisky When he went away on holiday Oatcakes, my mother¹s sherry She got frae Jean in Broughty Ferry And then I threw a party But you should have seen the carpet Knew my ma would have a hairy fit Time for a sharp exit. I thought I¹d join the Foreign Legion, Just to get me oot the region, But I didn¹t have a passport And my sister wouldn¹t hold the fort. Why did I throw another party? I was the victim of flattery My mates said my party was the best Could they come back and drink the booze that¹s left? Word spread around the neighbourhood, Soon every room was full of drunken youths, Along came the local skinheads Docs bouncing up on my ma¹s Slumberland bed. The gay abandon of the mindless few Put courage in the others too, Soon all the things they wouldn¹t do at home Surged over like the brimy, brimy foam.	Thank goodness for the boys in blue, My sister phoned them when they smashed the loo, Soon all the underage drinkers, Were diving oot the kitchen windows. And very soon I found I was alone In the middle of a battlezone My sister¹s picking through the rubble, Calculating my trouble. I filled a trolly full at B&Q But the mess was beyond paint and glue The lovely home that was my mother¹s pride I had damaged more than I could possibly hide. My sister¹s sitting in her bedroom Waiting for the folks to come home She wants to see me getting slaughtered She is the goody goody daughter. She says I¹ll have to face the music I wasn¹t worried about the music I was feart to get a doing My faither¹s size 10 shoe in. I even phoned up the Samaritans But they just told me: ³Tell it as it stands² So now I brace myself for aggro From my suntanned daddio.