Tam o’ Shanter & Other Tales
Tam o’ Shanter & Other Tales
Track List
- When the Night is Young
- Blindness of my Youth
- Tam o’Shanter
- Lord Nelson
- Jeannie Reid’s Hoose on the Green
- Small Birds Rejoice/Roslin Castle
- Singing Cavaliers
- Corrievrechan
Buy Tam o’ Shanter & Other Tales
When the Night is Young
Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS
When the day has lost her way
When the night is young
Fledermause come out to play
When the night is young
Soon the moon comes strolling along
When the night is young
I will sing you the moonlight song
When the night is young
When the night is young my dear
When the night is young
I will sing you the moonlight song
When the night is young
Bring the fiddle down from the wall
Bring the wine, the finest you’ve got
Leave your worries, they don’t belong
I will sing you the moonlight song
Chorus
Sing it when I’m far away
Sing it when we cannot play
Sing it to you all night long
I will sing you the moonlight song
Chorus
The Blindness of my Youth
Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS
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 minnows in the stream
Now I’ve grown older, I don’t move quite as fast
But 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 blindess of my youth
I remember autumn time, the skies were full of geese
We would throw up sticks to knock down chestnuts from the trees
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 night was clear and the heavens lit on high
I could only see rockets in the sky
Chorus
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
Chorus
Tam O’Shanter
Words: Robert Burns; Music: Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS
When chapman billies leave the street, And drouthy neibors, neibors, meet; As market days are wearing late, An’ folk begin to tak the gate, While we sit bousing at the nappy, An’ getting fou and unco happy, We think na on the lang Scots miles, The mosses, waters, slaps and styles, That lie between us and our hame, Where sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tam o’Shanter, O Tam! had’st thou but been sae wise, Ah, gentle dames! it gars me greet, Care, mad to see a man sae happy, But pleasures are like poppies spread, The wind blew as ‘twad blawn its last; Weel mounted on his grey mare, Meg, By this time he was cross the ford, Inspiring bold John Barleycorn! |
Warlocks and witches in a dance: Nae cotillion, brent new frae France, But hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys, and reels, Put life and mettle in their heels. A winnock-bunker in the east, There sat auld Nick, in shape o’ beast; A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, To gie them music was his charge: He screw’d the pipes and gart them skirl, Till roof and rafters a’ did dirl. Coffins stood round, like open presses, That shaw’d the Dead in their last dresses; And (by some devilish cantraip sleight) Each in its cauld hand held a light. By which heroic Tam was able To note upon the haly table, A murderer’s banes, in gibbet airns; Twa span-lang, wee, unchristened bairns; A thief, new-cutted frae a rape, Wi’ his last gasp his gab did gape; Five tomahawks, wi’ blude red-rusted: Five scimitars, wi’ murder crusted; A garter which a babe had strangled: A knife, a father’s throat had mangled. Whom his ain son of life bereft, The grey-hairs yet stack to the heft; Wi’ mair of horrible and awefu’, Which even to name wad be unlawfu’. As Tammie glowr’d, amaz’d, and curious, Now Tam, O Tam! had they been queans, But Tam kent what was what fu’ brawlie: But here my Muse her wing maun cour, As bees bizz out wi’ angry fyke, Ah, Tam! Ah, Tam! thou’ll get thy fairin! Now, wha this tale o’ truth shall read, |
Lord Nelson
Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS
Lord Nelson was a sailor bold
Neither hand nor eye had he
The first he lost in the Corsica wars
The other in the Canaries
He was told to withdraw at Copenhagen
"I see no ships," quo’ he
Then he sent De Wit of the proud Danish fleet
To the bottom of the salty sea
To the bottom of the salty sea,
To the bottom of the salty sea,
Come drown your fears, ye bold cannoneers
At the bottom of the salty sea
Napoleon came to Africa
The Pyramids for to view
An he brought five thousand French legionaires
To quell the Marmalukes
Lord Nelson sailed from Italy
In very good company
And he left French dreams of a realm in the east
At the bottom of the salty sea
Chorus
Lord Nelson’s final victory
He never did live to see
He was doomed to fall from a sniper’s ball
Upon Trafalgar day
But he died that Emperor Boneparte
A sailor never would be
Or he’d join his men feeding great fishes
at the bottom of the salty sea
Chorus
Jeannie Reid’s Hoose on the Green Jo
Words: Trad; Tune: Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS
We’re a’ reelin doon the brae
Tae Jeanie Reid’s hoose, tae Jeannie Reid’s hoose
We’re a’ reelin doon the brae
Tae Jeanie Reid’s hoose on the green Jo
Cultoquhey was cuttin’ up the pie
The laird o Logie left a clean cogie
Arnprior, taes at the fire
The laird o Kinnoull he blethered like a fool
And oh it’s rare the mirth was there
Wi the lairds o Bertha struttin roond the flair
But oh it’s sair the dule was there
When Oliver’s men came chargin up the stair
It’s the laird o Kinvaid who kissed the maid
It’s the laird o Gleneagles who joukit the beagles
Young Seggieden put the cock to the hen
Tippermallo had a guid swallow
And it’s oh so rare the mirth was there
Wi the lairds o Bertha struttin roond the flair
But oh it’s sair the dule was there
When Oliver’s men came chargin up the stair
Wi Oliver’s men both but and ben
and there’s armed men five score and ten
Were a’ fleein up the brae
Fae Jeanie Reid’s hoose, fae Jeannie Reid’s hoose
Were a’ fleein up the brae
Fae Jeanie Reid’s hoose on the green Jo
The laird o Monzie he flew like a flea
The laird o Blair he tumbled doon the stair
The laird o Scone he crackit his croon
The laird o Coplindy jumped oot the windae
Chorus
The laird o Creiff he cam tae grief
The laird o Strowan rade like a growan
But the laird o Lawers cam hame fae the wars
Tullibardine crept through the garden
Fae Jeannie Ried’s hoose on the green Jo
Small Birds Rejoice/Roslin Castle
Robert Burns/Trad
“Shut up and play your guitar.”
The Singing Cavaliers
Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS
In photographs you always looked like people from the past,
A golden time when troubadors would ply an ancient craft
You sang of long gone heroes, the King across the sea
And brought the past alive again for kids the likes of me
Goodbye to the singing cavaliers
Your voices have been leading me for years
Your songs are all still ringing in our ears
You never shirked at getting in the beers
Goodbye to the singing cavaliers
You could not think you’d leave us without a tear
We loved you more than we could let appear
(because we’re Scottish)
Goodbye to the singing cavaliers
Goodbye to the singing cavaliers
You fooled upon the radio and swaggered on the screen
and played in every music hall from Noam to Aberdeen
You never left the stage without them crying out for more
You knew they’d still be singing as they tumbled out the door
Chorus
Corrievrechan
Words: Jim Malcolm MCPS PRS; Tune: Cuilfhionn, Trad
Bring me a glass of usquebae,
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."
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 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."
Chorus
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
That would 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 made a rope that would not tear
For this rope had been woven from virgins’ hair
Chorus
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 virgins’ hair
First began to stretch then began to tear
Prince Vrechan now was doomed for sure
For one of the maidens had not been pure
Chorus
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
Chorus