Spring Will Follow On

Spring Will Follow On (2017)

  1. Pad the Road
  2. Melville Castle/Mally Lee
  3. The Greylag
  4. A Bottle o’ the Best
  5. Farewell to Stromness
  6. Craigieburn Wood
  7. Fiddle and Bow
  8. The False Lover Won Back
  9. The World’s Room
  10. Hey Donal’
  11. The Lass o’ Killiecrankie
  12. Braw Sailin’

Lyrics for Spring Will Follow On

1. Pad the Road
Traditional

Says I: “My dearest Molly, come let us fix the time
When ye and I get mairried love and wedlock us combine
When ye and I get mairried, love, richt happy we will be
For ye are the bonnie lassie that’s tae pad the road wi’ me.”

“Tae pad the road wi’ you, sir, cauld winter’s comin’ on
Besides, my aged parents have ne’er a girl but one
Besides, my aged parents have ne’er a girl but me
So I’m no’ the bonnie lassie that’s tae pad the road wi’ thee.”

“Oh never mind cauld winter, love, the spring will follow on
Come sit ye doon beside me, and I’ll sing ye a nice song
I’ll sing ye a nice song while I diddle ye on ma knee
You’re the bonnie lassie that’s tae pad the road wi’ me.”

“Oh the ither lads that I hae had, they proved of cruel mind
They beat me and bad-used me and proved tae be unkind
They beat me and bad-used me and garred me rue the day
That e’er I gied my love tae them tae pad the road away.”

“Oh lassie, dearest lassie, love, I’ll never dae ye wrang
It’s on my honest faither’s life I swear I’ll dae nae hairm
I’ll busk ye braw and fairer so ye could bear the gree
As the belle o’ a’ the country ‘roond tae pad the road wi’ me.”

So she has donned her hose and shoon and tae the kirk they’ve gane
And lang, ay lang ‘ere mornin’ that couple were made ane
And lang, lang ‘ere the mornin’, her troubles were set free
For she’s the bonnie lassie that’s tae pad the road wi’ me.

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2.Melville Castle/Mally Lee
Jean Redpath

Willie’s gane to Melville Castle
Boots and spurs and a’
Tae bid the ladies a’ fareweel
Afore he gangs awa’
Willie’s young and blythe and bonny,
Lo’ed by ane and a’
O what will a’ the lassies dae
When Willie gangs awa’?

The first he met was Lady Kate
She led him thro’ the ha’
And wi’ a sad and sorry heart
She let a tear doon fa’
Doon by the fire stood Lady Grace,
She ne’er said word ava;
She thocht that she was sure o’ him,
Afore he gaed awa’.

Then ben the house cam’ Lady Bell
“Gude troth, ye needna craw
Maybe the lad will fancy me
An’ disappoint ye a’.”
Doon the stair trip’t lady Jean
The flow’r amang them a’:
“Oh! lasses, trust in providence
And ye’ll get husbands a’.”

When on his horse he rode awa’
They gather’d round the door
He gaily wav’d his bonnet blue
They set up sic a war!
Their cries, their tears brought Willie back
He kiss’d them ane and a’
“Oh! lasses, bide till I come hame
And syne I’ll wad ye a’.”

MALLY LEE

When Mally Lee cam doon the street
Her capuchin did flee
She coost a look behind her
To see her negligee

Chorus: And we’re a’ gaun east and west, a’ gaun aye agee
We’re a’ gaun east and west, a-coortin Mally Lee

From Seaton’s Land a countess fair
Looked ower a window hie
And pined to see the gently shape
Of bonny Mally Lee

And when she reached the palace porch
There lounged yerls three
And ilk ane thocht his Kate or Mag
A drab to Mally Lee

The dance gade through the palace hall
A comely sight to see
But nane was there sae bricht and braw
As bonny Mally Lee

But Hielan’ Brodie flaired them a’
Wi a prood and glancin’ ee
He’s won for aye the heart and hand
O’ bonny Mally Lee.

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3. The Greylag
Jim Reid

Summertime is bonny
And maist folk say they like it best of a’
But oh, there’s ae thing missing
The greylag geese have a’ flown far awa.

When autumn comes aince mair
The wind blaws cauld and nichts are growin black
There’s ae thing sent tae cheer me
A soond that says again the greylag’s back.

When winter clouds blaw ower
An folk wi heids doon, collars turn up high
My een they aye stray upward
Looking for yon lang skein in the sky.

And then when days grow langer
The springtime urge is tae be movin on
But roots can haud ye stranger
And then ye realise the geese are gone.

I envy all they wild geese
That can just fly tae countries o’er the sea
Tae Norway, Iceland, Greenland
They ken the wye o’ livin wild and free.

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4. A Bottle o’ the Best
Jack Foley; tune trad.

Oh, when your time of work is done
And you’ve earned yourself some fun
In the pub you start to sup your drink
And clinkin’ every cup
Through the pint-pots you’re perusin’
And you’re boozin’ till you’re snoozin’
And you’re losin’ all your senses to the drink
And when all these folks so prim
Are swiggin’ swill up to the brim
Wi’ nips o’ gin and numbered Pim’s
Wi’ sugar rubbed around the rim
Ah, let them drink it till they drop
For the sly besotted Scot
He’ll be breakin’ out a bottle o’ the best!

Aye, to hell wi’ all the rest
Give me a bottle o’ the best
The amber bead I’ll down wi’ speed
It’s not bad taste or waste, just greed
And a whisky-still I’ll kill
I’ll drink my fill and if I spill a gill
You know I will, I’ll lick it off the floor!
I’ll no’ touch Teachers, Grants or Haig
Give me Bowmore or Laphroaig
Glenfarclas in a glass,
Well you can throw the top away
For there’s no use to pretend
Oh, you’ll need the cork again,
When you’ve broken out a bottle o’ the best.

And the English like their ale
Warm and flat straight out the pail
They aye slitter wi’ their bitter
It would slaughter Jack the Ripper
And they sip their cider rough
They sniff their snuff and huff and puff
And as if that’s not enough they start to sing!
Of when Jones’s Ale was new
And John Barleycorn’s Fine Brew
Oh, Fathom the Bowl, The Barley Mow,
Roll Out The Barrel, just a few;
But their songs are far surpassed
By the tinkle in the glass
When you’ve broken out a bottle o’ the best!

And the Irish wi’ their pride o’ Erin
Think they can deride
Our golden water wi’ their patter
When they’re out there on the batter
Sixteen hundred pints o’ stout
A drinkin’ bout without a doubt
And if they’ve no’ got the gout they start to dance
To Father O’Flynn and Larry O’Gaff,
Biddy the Bowleife for a laugh
The Young May Moon, The Garryown
And The Blackbird drives them daft;
But their jigs have no appeal
To the Scot who loves to reel
When he’s broken out a bottle o’ the best!
Aye, a bottle o’ the best

That’s what it is, nay idle jest
No Mickey Finn, no bathtub gin
No rotgut wine that tastes like Vim
Have no fear it’s not like beer
Malt whisky’s bright and strong and clear
Aye, it’s also bloody dear, but what the hell!
And it belts ye in the belly
Like a heavyweight Lochgelly
A glow begins to grow,
Six in a row turns you to jelly
Then you fall down in a heap
Then you dream perchance to sleep
For you’ve broken out a bottle o’ the best
Aye, you’ve broken out a bottle o’ the best!

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5. Farewell to Stromness
Traditional

Come, come my kind comrades, once more let us join
Once more your fine voices, in chorus with mine
Let us drink and be merry, from all sorrow refrain
For we ever or never, may we all meet again.

The time is advancing, when I must away
I bid you a farewell for many long days
Likewise pretty fair maids of every degree
Long in vain will I wish for your kind company.

So farewell to Stromness, since I must away
I leave my best wishes to one who there stays
May fortune protect her and with her remain
May she never want a friend til I see her again.

So adieu to all pleasure, adieu for a while
When the winter is over, sweet summer will smile
Wherever I wander, by the land or by sea
I will always remember your kind company.

The mountains and valleys of Orkney farewell
If ever I return again there’s no one can tell
But you pretty fair maids who happy live here
While away on the ocean my course I must steer.

So farewell to Stromness since I must away
I bid you a farewell for many long days
May fortune protect her that’s loyal and true
Here’s a health, peace and plenty, farewell and adieu.

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6. Craigieburn Wood
Robert Burns

Sweet closes the evening on Craigieburn wood
And blithely awakens the morrow
But the pride o’ the spring in the Craigieburn wood
Can yield me nought but sorrow

Chorus: Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee dearie
Oh to be lying beyond thee
Oh sweetly, soundly, weel may he sleep
That’s laid in the bed beyond thee

I see the spreading leaves and flooers
I hear the wild birds singing
But pleasure they hae nane for me
While care my hairt is wringing

I can na tell, I maun na tell
I darena for your anger
But secret love will break my hairt
If I conceal it langer

I see thee gracefu’, straight and tall
I see thee sweet and bonny
But oh what will my torments be
If thou refuse thy Johnie

But Jeanie say thou wilt be mine
Say though lo’es nane before me
And all o my days o life to come
I’ll gratefully adore thee.

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7. Fiddle and Bow
???

Ben my hoose in the neuk where the Braan nears the Tay
‘mong Birnam’s great oaks on a lang summer’s day
While salmon lie still in dark waters below
I will mind on your tune and tighten my bow.

As the hair feels the string and the sound starts to swell
A peel softly rings from the bell o Dunkeld
And it brings harmony to the air that I play
That I wrote on the day you were taken away.

All around me is beauty, bright birdsong and plenty,
A dram of good whisky by a warm fire’s glow
Scarlet fruit fill the gean tree but nae joy comes tae me
For you and me Maggie were fiddle and bow.

Like the fish in the Braan that are suddenly gone
When shadow casts o’er their watery home
As the swallows’ whole flock all at once disappear
When they sense summer’s o’er and winter draws near.

Like the notes of a reel as it bounds round the hall
They can’t linger long and eventually fall
But this air I have penned to remind me, my dear
Though it can’t match your grace it will aye be here.

All around me is beauty, bright birdsong and plenty,
A dram of good whisky by a warm fire’s glow
Scarlet fruit fill the gean tree but nae joy comes tae me
For you and me Maggie were fiddle and bow.

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8. The False Lover Won Back
Traditional

The sun shines on thon high, high hill
And the sun shines on thon dowie dell
The sun, it never goes doon nae mair
In the place where me and my love dwell.

“And it’s when will you be back, bonnie laddie?
Aye and when will you be back again?”
“When the heather hills are nine times burnt
And the grass is growing green again.”

“Well, that’s ower lang tae bide awa’
And it’s ower lang awa’ fae hame
And the baby that is yet unborn
Will be ower lang wantin’ a name.”

Chorus: Comfort for the comfortless
Aye and honey for the bee
Comfort for the comfortless
But there’s nane but you for me

And he’s mounted on his good black steed
And he’s saddled up to ride
She’s kilted up her petticoats green
And she ran swiftly by his side.

And the first toon that they came to
He’s bought her the bonniest hose and shoon
And bade her rue and turn back noo
And never follow him again.

And the second toon that they came to
He’s bought her the bonniest silken goon
And bade her rue and turn back noo
And never follow him again.

And the third toon that they came to
He’s bought her the bonniest weddin’ ring
And bade her dry her rosy cheeks
And up and ride alang wi’ him.

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9. The World’s Room
Tune Jonny Hardie; words Jim Malcolm

Steal awa wi me my Mary, we’ll roam the country roon
Frae the Barry Sands to the heathered hills of Glenshee
We’ll camp the Den o Airlie cuddled like a pair o spoons
And we’ll always land where there’s easy work and plenty.

Steal awa wi me braw Mary, we’ll roam the country roon
Nae mair ye’ll fear the temper o thon gentry
Leave your kitchen slavery and your tiny attic room
There’ll be I swear no bully laird to tend to

And I’ll rise up early as the dairy lads are yokin’,
And I’ll snag a bonny fish afore the ghillie’s eyes are open
And we’ll roam thegither pu’in mountain thyme and blueberries
Sleepin’ dry in some high shielin’ for we’ll own the world’s room.

Steal awa wi me my Mary, we’ll roam the country roon
Where the peasies’ chatter, there’s no-one we need answer
Weavin’ baskets cheerfully from the switches we hae found
To sell or barter for onything we’re after

And in summertime we’ll dwell among the berry fields of Blair
Where the farmers aye rely upon our labours
Purses fairly swell frae a lang day’s pickin there
Till the campfire dies, sang and laughter never wavers.

And I’ll rise up early as the dairy lads are yokin’,
And I’ll snag a bonny fish afore the ghillie’s eyes are open
And we’ll roam thegither pu’in mountain thyme and blueberries
Sleepin’ dry in some high shielin’ for we’ll own the world’s room.

And when winter draws we’ll make our way across to Dundee
I ken where we’ll find lodgings where we’ll both be warm and comfy
And we’ll ride the tram like ony other pair o’ scaldies
Till we tak the road in springtime for we’ll own the world’s room.

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10. Hey Donal
Mary Brooksbank

As I cam ower Strathmartine Braes
Wha do ye think I seen
But a braw young piping laddie
Come a linkin ower the green

Chorus: Singing Hey Donal, Ho Donal
Dirrime do a day.

He played a jig and he played a reel
He played a sweet Strathspey
He roosed my heart till its beat took time
Wi the tapping o my tae.

Now I’ve nae gowd tae offer you
I’ve gaithered little gear
But we’ll hae love and freedom
Gin ye’ll go wi me my dear

There’s gowd in the broom o the Sidlaw Hills
Honey fae the heather sweet
There’s a speckled trout in the hiddlin tarn
A carpet neath wir feet

Syne he’s taen up his chanter
And sic a spring he played
That I chose love and freedom
Now we wander all wir days

There’s gowd in the broom o the Sidlaw Hills
Honey fae the heather sweet
There’s a speckled trout in the hiddlin tarn
A carpet neath wir feet.

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11. The Lass of Killiecrankie
Traditional (this version is from Jim’s brother Scott Gardiner)

Upon a thistle I sat doon, I nearly loupit tae the moon
Nearly loupit tae the moon for the lass who stole my hanky.

Too ra loo ra loo ra loo, fal a diddle, fal a doo
Fal a diddle fal a doo, on the braes o Killiecrankie.

Jeannie McPhee she’s gettin’ fat, she wears her hair up o’er her hat
Wears her hair up o’er her hat on the braes o’ Killicrankie.

Had a gaffer named Allardyce, he was really helluva nice
Except the way he loaded the dice the day I joined the union.

Jeannie McPhee began tae curse, her bloomers fell doon and her sties did burst.
She gied her muckle erse a twist and finished oot the windae.

Now I’m old and getting’ frail, I’m like a dog without a tail
Like a dog without a tail for the lass who stole my hanky.

Too ra loo ra loo ra loo, you’re like a monkey in a zoo
If I had a face like you, I’d accept the situation.

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12. Braw Sailin’
Traditional

There cam a letter yestreen
Oor ship mun sail the morn
“Alas,” cried the bonnie lass
“that ever I was born.”

Chorus: And it’s braw sailin on the sea
When wind and weather’s fair
It’s better tae be in my love’s airms
O gin that I were there.

He’s cam in tae her faither’s hoose
At twelve o’clock at noon

The lassie being proud-hearted
She would not let him in

He’s taen the ring from his pocket
It cost him guineas three
Sayin, “Tak ye that my bonny lass
And aye think weel o’ me.”

And she’s taen the ring from her pocket
It cost her shillings nine
Sayin, “Tak ye that my bonnie lad
For I hae changed my mind.”

And it’s braw sailin on the sea
When wind and weather’s fair
It’s better tae be in my love’s airms
O gin that I were there.

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