Live in Perth

Live in Perth (2015)

  1. Lads o The Fair
  2. The Valley of Strathmore
  3. The Jolly Beggar
  4. Blindness of my Youth
  5. Billy Taylor
  6. First Cold Day
  7. The Train from Perth to Lochearn
  8. Corrievrechan
  9. The Pickpockets
  10. Vinney Den
  11. Reres Hill
  12. Lochaber No More
  13. Money Making Money
  14. Cleaning Out My Moat
CD cover (Live in Perth)

Lyrics for Live In Perth

1. Lads o’ the Fair
Brian McNeill

Come bonny lass lie near me
And let the brandy cheer ye
For the road frae Fife tae Falkirk’s lang
And cauld and wet and weary
My trade it is the weavin
In the bonny toun o Leven
And we’ll drink a health tae the farmers’ dames
Wha’ll buy our cloth the morn.

You can see them a’, the lads o’ the fair
Lads frae the Forth and the Carron Water
Workin lads and lads wi gear
Lads wha’d sell ye the provost’s dochter
Sodjers back frae the German wars
Peddlers up frae the border
Lassies wi an eye for mair than the kye
At the trystin fair at Falkirk.

Come Geordie, haud the pony
For the path is steep and stony
An we’re three lang weeks frae the Isle o Skye
An the beasts are thin an bony
We’ll tak the last o the siller
An buy oursels a gill or two
An drink to the lads wha’ll buy our kye
In Falkirk toun the morn.

Come now and I’ll show ye
There’s the toun below ye
But you’d best bide here in the barn the nicht
For the nightwatch dinnae know ye
My brother, he’s a ploughman
And I’m for feein now, man
And we’ll drink tae the price o the hairvest corn
In Falkirk toun the morn.

The wark o weavin’s over
Likewise the days o the drover
And the ploughboy sits on a tractor now
Too high to see the clover
The warkin’s no sae steady
But the lads are aye still ready
Tae drink a health tae the working man
In Falkirk toon the morn.

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2. The Valley of Strathmore
Andy M Stewart

By the clear and the winding stream
In the valley of Strathmore
Where my love and I have been
Where we’ll wander never more.

But if time was a thing man could buy
All the money that I have in store
I would give for one day by her side
In the valley of Strathmore.

From the land of the golden and the green
I left for a land far away
Where sadness has never been seen
Aye and joy only costs a day’s pay.

In Strathmore there’s a long working day
For a man with his hands on the plough
But it’s work I’d be happy to do
If at night I were lying with you.

As I take a long draft from my glass
Oh I’m drinking alone here again
And I try not to think of my lass
For the old days will ne’er come again.

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3. The Jolly Beggar

There was a jolly beggar man
And a’begging he was bound
And he was seeking lodgings
Intae a land’ard toon

Chorus: And we’ll gang nae mair a roving sae late intae the nicht
We’ll gang nae mair a roving
let the moon shine e’er sae bricht.

The beggar wouldna lie in barn
He wouldna lie in byre
Ah but he would lie intae the ha’
Or by the kitchen fire.

The beggar made his bed fu saft
Of guid clean straw and hay
And in ahint the kitchen door
The jolly beggar lay.

The guidman’s dochter she cam doon
Tae bar the kitchen door
Aye and there she spied the beggar
Standing naked on the floor.

He’s taen the lassie by the hand
And tae the bed did run
“Oh hooley, hooley wi me sir
You’ll waken oor guid man.”

The beggar being a cunning loon
It’s ne’er a word he spak
Til he had had his will o her
Then he began to craic.

“Have ye onie dogs aboot the hoose,
Or ony cats ava?
For I’m feart they’ll reive my mealy pyokes
Afore I gang away.”

She’s ta’en the meal pyokes in her hand
She’s thrown them o’er the wa’
“The de’il gang wi yer mealy pyokes,
My maidenhead’s awa.”

He’s ta’en a trumpet frae his side
He’s blown baith loud and shrill
And four and twenty belted knights
Cam riding o’er the hill.

He’s ta’en the penknife frae his pooch
Let a’ his duddies fa’
And he was the brawest belted knight
That wis among them a’.

“If ye had been a decent lass,
As I ta’en ye tae be
Then I’d hae made o ye the Queen
O’er a’ the hail countrie.”

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4. Blindness of my Youth
Jim Malcolm

I remember summertime
Long days away from school
We would gather berries
On the hill behind Kinnoull
Though the heather bloomed
Sometimes shimmered in the heat
I could only see what was there to eat.
Picnics by the Ruchill Water
Always end up wet
We would hunt for fishes
With a jam jar and a net
Though the river bed shone
Of quartz and emerald green
I could only see fishes in the stream.

Chorus: Now I’ve grown older
I don’t move quite as fast
I see the beauty I squandered in the past
Now I’ve grown older
I’m longer in the tooth
I can’t get over the blindness of my youth.

I remember autumn time
The sound of all the geese
We would throw up sticks to knock down
Chestnuts from the trees
And though the leaves were golden
The shells were spiky green
Brown and shiny conkers were all I’d see.
We would build a bonfire
Dragging wood from miles around
Throw in heaps of tatties
As the fire scorched the ground
Though the sky was clear
and the heavens lit on high
I could only see rockets in the sky.

I remember wintertime
When frost would grip the town
We would work the playground
For a slide to hurtle down
Though the trees were silver
That lasted half the day
I could only care that the ice would stay.
As the winter hardened
We’d await a fall of snow
Up beside the golf course
Was the best place we could go
Though the sight of snowy Perth
Would soothe the sorest eye
I could only care that the snow would lie.

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5. Billy Taylor

Billy Taylor was a sailor
he was courtin’ his fair lady
Instead of Billy gettin’ married
he was forced untae the sea
But his bride soon followed after
under the name of Richard Carr
Snow-white fingers, long and slender
covered ower wi pitch and tar.

Chorus: Fal-da-ral-da-rum-dum-deddy,

She’s dressed herself in sailor’s clothing
Oh but she was a bonny young man
Away she sailed upon the ocean
all aboard the Mary Anne
A storm blew up upon the water
she bein’ there among the rest
The wind blew off her silver buttons
and there appeared her snow-white breast.

“Well,” says the captain, “my dear lady,
What misfortune brought you here?”
“I am searching for another
Whom you have pressed the other year.”
“Well,” said the captain, “my dear lady,
Tell to me the young man’s name.”
“Some folk call him Billy Taylor, William
Taylor is his name.”

“Well if Billy Taylor’s your dear lover
then he has proved to you untrue
He’s got married tae another
and left you here alone to rue.
Rise ye early in the mornin
early at the break of day
And there you’ll see young Billy Taylor
Walkin’ oot wi’ his lady gay.”

She rose early up next mornin’,
Early at the break of day
And there she spied young Billy Taylor
Walkin out wi his lady gay
Gun and pistol she commanded
gun and pistol by her side
And there she shot young Billy Taylor
Walking out wi his new-made bride.

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6. The First Cold Day
Jim Malcolm

On the first cold day of the end of the year
When the sun still strayed and the sky was clear
On the first cold day it was perfectly still
And the frost still lay high on Craigie hill.

Chorus: Now I’m out on the road
Driving on through some place
And the Tennessee sunshine
Is burning my face
I’m not totally here
For my mind slips away
To be walking with you along the River Tay.

I can see you walking with me
on the River Tay.

On the first cold day
It had iced the windscreen
It was still two weeks shy of Hallowe’en
On the first cold day
you were scraping it free
And you made a hole so we all could see
Now I’m out on the road
Driving on through some place
And the Tennessee sunshine
Is burning my face
I’m not totally here
For my mind slips away
To be walking with you
along the River Tay.

I can see you walking with me on the River Tay
Through the silver cobwebs in the grass along the way.

On the first cold day I was flying away
And I said goodbyes that were hard to say
On the first cold day when it was perfectly still
I began to move and I’m travelling still.

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7. The Train from Perth to Lochearn
Jim Malcolm

My name is Archie McAllister
I was the driver of a train
I served my time on the Strathearn line
From a childhood near Dunblane
Where the school books never spoke to me
Likewise the land or sea
I set my course on the iron horse
A railman I would be.

Well I started out as an engine boy
Barely out of school
I spent long days polishing away
And oiling every tool
In my twenties I was a fireman
Longing for the time
I began my career as an engineer
Upon the Strathearn line.

Chorus: Time will not fail my boy
Time will never still
And time does not care my boy
Who it trundles over the hill
But I don’t despair, my child
I’ve had time to learn
I’ve had long years as an engineer
On the train from Perth to Lochearn.

I began in the spring of the year ’03
A time of floods and gales
When the Earn broke free at Monzievaird
And washed away the rails
And the cold, cold winter of ’47
when we had to plough the line
The road was blocked for over a week
but the train still ran on time.

I was 38 in the year ’14
When the Kaizer waged his war
Rounding up young men along Strathearn
To volunteer by the score
I was 62 back in ’39
When Hitler threatened the Poles
And the wide-eyed sons of the fallen ones
Rode to Perth to parade once more.

And now I am a retired man
With a grandchild on each knee
And the age of steam seems like a dream
Now that diesel’s all that you’ll see
And the Strathearn line is abandoned now
Doctor Beeching closed her down
And children play where the track once lay
And the ghost train’s all that will sound.

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8. Corrievrechan
Words Jim Malcolm; Tune Cuilfhionn (trad)

Bring me a glass of uisge beatha
and I’ll tell you a tale of a dark, dark day
Prince Vrechan was a sailor king
and he sailed to Argyll to take a queen
Prince Vrechan’s will had long been sworn
on the daughter of Donald, the Lord of Lorn
But Lord Donald was a careful man and
he’d laid for his daughter a different plan.
“Lord Donald, in your hall I stand,
To ask your consent for your daughter’s hand
Give your blessing to a match with me
and your grandsons will rule
o’er the whole North Sea.”

Chorus: He was the Lord of the whole Northern Sea,
He had sailed in from Iceland to make the lady Queen
Now his soul’s with the devil who deals with such fools
As would duel with the Corrievrechan whirlpool.

“Prince Vrechan, I have pledged my child,
to the captain who dares where the tide runs wild.
My blessing I can only rule if you’ll dwell for a day in the whirlpool.”
“Lord Donald, I will break this spell;
I have sailed many times through the storms of hell
Your whirlpool is no match for me,
I will dwell in its spell not a day but three.”

Prince Vrechan sent his men to find
a great rope of hemp for the shore to bind
He sent them for a rope of wool
to take up the strain when the tide ran cruel
He sent them back to far Norway
to a crone he had known since his childhood day
She wove a rope that would not tear
for this rope had been woven from virgins’ hair.

First day the galley held its own, but the great rope of hemp it was lost and gone
Next day the galley held again but the great rope of wool couldn’t bear the strain
Third day the rope of magic hair first began to stretch then began to tear
Prince Vrechan now was doomed for sure one of the maidens had not been pure.
Prince Vrechan and his men were drowned but his body was saved by his faithful hound
It dragged him to an island cave that bears his name and bears his grave.

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10. Vinney Den
Jim Reid

As I gaed in by Bractley Brig
’twas on my road tae Bowrie Fau’d
I met wi sic a bonny lass
wad turn the een o ony lad.
I said tae her “It’s gettin late
the sun’s lang drapped ower Lownie Hill
Have you got very far to go?”
She said, “I bide at Idvies Mill.

“My faither he’s the miller there
an honest man ye’ll shairly ken
He’ll treat ye fairly if ye’ll see me safely through dark Vinney Den.”
I took her hand and we set aff
tae struggle doun the burnside
The lengthening shadows grew sae dark
my growing fear I tried tae hide.

I said tae her, “Let’s sing a sang,
the tune will help us on oor way”
She sang sae sweet I lost my fear
she fairly stole my heart away.
As we came in by the Feuar’s Inn
after struggling through dark Vinney Den
My bonny lass was ta’en frae me
by four and twenty angry men.

But she broke loose, cam runnin’ back
when she saw they’d tied me tae a tree
Saying, “Is this the thanks a laddie gets
for a’ the help he’s been tae me?”
They listened tae her story then
they took a knife and cut me loose
They sat us baith upon a horse
and led us tae her faither’s hoose.

Her faither was sae glad tae see
that she was safe and free from harm
And I was asked if I wad fee
as horseman on Auchterlownie fairm.
I courted her from that day on
an tae wed wi me she did agree
Though auld an grey we still can mind
When she cam through the Vinney Den wi me.

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11. Reres Hill

Last year at Lady Mary’s Fair
as I was in Dundee
I fell in wi’ an auld sweetheart
and we gaed on a spree
My company she did accept
and with me she did go
All to her sad misfortune
for I proved her overthrow.

We wandered east, we wandered west
We wandered roond the Law
I said I’d see her hame that night
but hame we never saw
I kept beside her a’ the while
resolved to have my will
And by and by we lost our way
at the back o’ Reres Hill.

And when we cam tae Reres Hill
a thocht did spring tae me
“We can’t go home tonight, my dear
it’s far ower late you see
But the night is warm and in my pooch
I hae anither gill
And we can lie down here content
at the back o Reres Hill.”

We had another nip apiece
to quieten our alarm
And when we awoke next morning
we were locked in each other’s arms
She handed me the bottle
another glass tae fill
And I drank her health and store o’ wealth
at the back o’ Reres Hill.

And then I up and said to her
“Oh lassie, dinna mourn
For while I draw the breath of life
frae you I’ll never turn
If you will come to yonder toon
my wedded wife to be
We’ll be the happiest couple yet
was ever in Dundee.”

So may I never prosper
and may I never thrive
In anything I take in hand
as long as I’m alive
If e’er I say I rue the day
the day I had my will;
Success to Lady Mary’s Fair
and the back o Reres Hill.

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12. Lochaber No More
Words Allan Ramsay (1686-1757); music Thomas Connellan (1640-1698)

Farewell to Lochaber
Farewell to my Jean
Where heartsome wi’ thee
I hae mony days been
For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more
Maybe to return to Lochaber no more.
These tears that I shed
they are a’ for my dear
And not for the dangers attending the weir
Though borne on rough seas
to a far distant shore
Maybe to return to Lochaber no more.

Though hurricanes rise
though rise ev’ry wind
No tempest can equal the storm in my mind;
Though loudest of thunders
on louder waves roar
There’s nothing like leaving my love
on the shore.
To leave thee behind me
my heart is sair pain’d
But by ease that’s inglorious
no fame can be gained
And beauty and love’s
the reward of the brave
And I maun deserve it before I can crave.

Then glory my Jeanie
maun plead my excuse
Since honour commands me
how can I refuse?
For without it, I ne’er can have
merit for thee
And losing thy favour, I’d better not be.
I gae then, my lass, to win honour and fame
And if I should chance
to come glorious hame
I’ll bring a heart to thee
with love running o’er
And then I’ll leave thee
and Lochaber no more.

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13. Money Making Money
Jim Malcolm

Daddy takes his children for a drive-through
They both get toys and they don’t need fork and knife
The folks who make those toys need silent words for
The forces who are ordering their lives.

Chorus: Money making money making misery
Money making money making pain
Money can’t make money out of nothing
Someone somewhere has to take the strain.

The tycoon owns the plane that he takes off in
Checking on his copper shares online
Out in Bogata there’s miners coughing
Up the dust that’s bound to kill them all in time.
The football player poses for an advert
A million pounds to wear these boots he’s paid
Out in Indonesia children sew them
For a place to sleep and a bowl of rice a day.

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14. Cleaning Out My Moat
Jim Malcolm

I can’t fly to London ’cause I’m
cleaning out my moat
Can’t spend the day in St Tropez
too busy cleaning out my moat.

Chorus: Cleaning out my moat
It really gets my goat
I wish I was an MP like Douglas Hogg
When he got the taxman to pay for the job
While I’m just standing here up to my arse in frogs
Cleaning out my moat.

Can’t go shooting with Sir Fred Goodwin
’cause I’m cleaning out my moat
Too much scum when the algae’s blooming
cleaning out my moat
Can’t send flowers to Margaret Thatcher
’cause I’m cleaning out my moat
If David gets in she’ll be filled with rapture
cleaning out my moat.

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