In Nottamin Town

In Nottamin town, in Nottamin town,
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down.
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down,
To show me the way to fair Nottamin town.

I brought me a horse, 'twas called a gray mare.
Grey mane and gray tail and green stripe down her back.
Grey mane and gray tail and green stripe down her back,
And there weren't a hair on her that be not coal black.

She stood so still, threw me to the dirt.
She tear-ed my hide and she bruis-ed my shirt.
From saddle to stirrup I mounted again,
And on my ten toes I rode over the plain.

And when I got there no one could I see,
They all stood around just a looking at me.
I called for a quaff to drive gladness away,
And to stifle the dust for it rained the whole day.

And the King and the Queen and the company more,
Come a-riding behind and a-walking before.
Come a stark naked drummer boy beating his drum,
With his heels in his bosom come marching along.

I sat down on a hard, hot, cold frozen stone,
Ten thousand stood around me yet I was alone.
Took my hat in my hands for to keep my head warm,
Ten thousand was drown-ed that never was born.

In Nottamin town, in Nottamin town,
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down.
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down,
To show me the way to fair Nottamin town.

Jordi

As I walked down to Edinborough town,
One misty morning early.
I overheard a fair, pretty maid,
Lamenting for her Jordi.

Come bridle me my milk white horse,
Come bridle me my pony.
That I may ride to the kings High Court,
To plead for the life of Jordi.

And when she entered in the hall,
There were Lords and Ladies plenty.
Down on her bended knee she knelt,
To plead for the life of Jordi.

Oh my Jordi never stole no cow nor calf,
He never hurted any.
He stole sixteen of the kings bay horse,
And he sold them in Kilkari.

Two pretty babies have I born,
The third lies in my body.
But I'd gladly bear them all over again,
For the life on my bonnie Jordi.

The king looked over his left shoulder,
He said, "Fair maid, I'm sorry."
He said, "Fair maid you must be gone,
For I can not pardon Jordie."

Oh my Jordi will be hanged in a golden chain,
Tis not the chain of many.
For he was born of the king's royal blood,
But he'll hang as high as any.
Then up and spoke the royal queen,
And oh but she spoke bonnie.
Tell down, tell down 500 pounds,
And ye shall have your Jordi.

Some gave her marks, some gave her crowns,
Some gave her ducket plenty.
Five Hundred ginny she's paid out,
And won the life of Jordi.

She mounted him on a milk white horse,
Herself upon the pony.
And she rode home at his right hand,
All for the pride of Jordi.

Mad Tom of Bedlam

For to see Mad Tom of Bedlam,
Ten thousand miles I've travelled.
Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes,
For to save her shoes from gravel.

Chorus-
Still I sing bonny boys, bonny my boys,
Bedlam boys are bonny.
For they all go bare, And they live by the air,
and they want no drink nor money.

I went down to Satan's kitchen,
For to get me food one mornin'
And there I saw souls pipin' hot,
All on that spit a turnin'
Chorus

Of your five sound senses,
You'll never be forsaken,
Nor wander from yourself with Tom,
Abroad to beg your bacon.
Chorus

The night's my constant mistress,
And the lonely owl my marrow,
The flamin' drake, and the night-crow make,
Me music to their sorrow.
Chorus

I know more than Appollo,
Far off when he lies sleepin'
I see the stars of mortal wars,
And the wounded welkin weeping.
Chorus

With a host of furious fancies,
Whereof I am commander,
With a flaming spear, and a horse of air,
Through the wilderness I wander
Chorus

A knight of ghosts and shadows,
I summoned am to tourney,
Ten leagues beyond the wide world's end,
Me thinks it is no journey.
Chorus

For to see Mad Tom of Bedlam,
Ten thousand years I've travelled.
Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes,
For to save her shoes from gravel.
Chorus

The Sleeping Scotsman
Anonymous (last 2 verses by Rich Bailey)

A Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair
And one could tell by how he walked he'd drunk more than his share
He stumbled on until he could no longer keep his feet
Then staggered off into the grass to sleep, beside the street

CHORUS: A ring-ding-diddle-diddle ei-di do, a-ring-di-diddle-i-o
He staggered off into the grass to sleep beside the street.
(following choruses as above, repeating last line of verse)

About that time two young and lovely ladies happened by
And one says to the other, with a twinkle in her eye,
"See yon sleeping Scotsman, so strong and handsome built..
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt?"

Well they crept upon that sleeping Scotsman, quiet as they could be,
And lifted up his kilt about an inch, so they could see.
And there, behold, for them to view, beneath his Scottish skirt
T'was nothing more than God has graced him with upon his birth!

Well they marveled for a moment, then one said: "We must be gone.
But let's leave a present for our friend before we move along!"
As gift, they left a bright blue ribbon, tied within a bow,
And the bonnie part the Scotsman lifted kilt did show.

The Scotsman woke to Nature's Call, and stumbled towards a tree
Behind the bush, he lifts his kilt, and gawks at what he sees!
And in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes:
"Lad I don't know where you been, but I see y'won First Prize!"

Our Scottish friend, still dressed in kilt, continued up the street
He hadn't gone ten yards or more, when a lass he chanced to meet.
She said: "I've heard what's underneath there, tell me, is it so?"
He said: "Just slip your hand up, lass, if y'really want to know!"

So she slipped her hand right up his kilt, and much to her surprise,
The Scotsman smiled, and a very strange look came into his eyes,
She said: "Why, sir, that's gruesome!" And then she heard him roar:
"If you stick yer hand up once again, you'll find it grew some more!"

The Fire Ship

As I strolled out one evening,
Out for a night's career,
I spied a lofty ship
And after her did steer.
I hoisted her my signals
Which she very quickly knew;
And when she seed my bunting fly
She immediately hove to.

Chorus:
She's a dark and rolling eye,
And her hair hung down in ringalets.
She was a nice girl, a decent girl,
But one of the rakish kind.

"O, sir, you must excuse me
For being out so late,
For if my parents knew of it,
Sad would be my fate.
My father he's a minister,
A good and honest man,
My mother she's a Methodist,
And I do the best I can."
Chorus:

I took her to a tavern
And I treated her to wine,
Little did I think she belonged
To the rakish kind.
I handled her, I dandled her,
And found to my surprise,
She was nothing but a fires ship,
Rigged up in a disguise.
Chorus:

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