West Country Night Out

West Country Night Out

A new CD of popular and lesser known West Country songs. Some tracks drawn from previous releases by Tom & Barbara plus nine previously unreleased tracks including some of their most frequently requested songs.
Click on the track-list below for lyrics and for a full personnel list for each track.
To order this CD, select 'contact us' from the menu to e-mail us for an order form.

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Lamorna
Dorset 4-hand Reel
Bridgwater Fair
Egloshayle Ringers
Sir Francis Drake/The Bold Privateer
Dartmoor Song
Tavistock Guzie Fayre
When Mother and Me Joined In
Me Old Game Cock
Widdecombe Fair
Where Umber Flows
Mortal Unlucky Ol' Chap
Bampton Fair
Seeds Of Love
Soap, Starch & Candles
Pleasant and Delightful
Barnstaple Fair
Wives Of St. Ives
The Watchet Sailor
The Farmer's Boy
March Of The Men Of Devon

1. Lamorna

Tom & Barbara Brown: lead vocals. Keith Holloway: melodeon. Additional chorus: Tom Brown & Doug Bailey


Now, a song I'll sing to you all about a maiden fair I met the other evening at the corner of the square.
She had a dark and a rolling eye, and her hair hung down in ringlets:
I asked her would she ride with me away down to Lamorna.
'Twas down in Albert Square, I never shall forget,
Her eyes they shone like diamonds and the evening it was wet, wet, wet.
And her hair hung down in curls, she was a charming rover
And we roved all night, in the pale moonlight, away down to Lamorna.

When she got into the cab I asked her for her name
And when she gave it me, hers and mine it was the same
So I lifted up her veil, for her face was covered over
To my suprise, it was my wife I took down to Lamorna.
Says she "I knawed you well. I knawed you all the time.
I knawed you in the dark but I did it for a lark.
But for that lark she payed: for the covering of her donor
She payed the fare, I do declare, away down to Lamorna. BACK TO TOP

2. Dorset 4-hand Reel

Tom Brown: English concertina & octave mandola. Keith Holloway: melodeon & electric bass guitar.

BACK TO TOP

3. Bridgwater Fair

Barbara Brown: lead vocals. Tom Brown: mandola. Paul Sartin: fiddle. Additional chorus: Barbara Brown


All you who roam, both young and old,
Come listen to me story bold;
From all around, from far and near
They come to see the rigs of the fair.
Oh master Jan, do you beware,
And don’t you go kissing the girls at Bridgwater Fair.

The jovial ploughboys all serene,
They dance the maids all over the green;
Says John to Mary, ‘Don’t you know
You’ll not go home till the morning, oh.

There’s Tom and Bob, they look so gay,
With Sal and Kit they haste away;
They laugh and shout and have a spree
And dance and sing right merrily.

The lads and lasses they come through
From Stowey, Stogursey and Cannington too;
That farmer from Fiddington, true as me life,
He’s come to the fair for to look for a wife.

There’s Carroty Kit, so jolly and fat
With her gurt flippety floppety hat,
A hole in her stocking so big as a crown
And the hoops of her skirt hangin down to the ground.

Then it’s up with the fiddle and off with the dance,
The lads and lassies gaily prance,
And when it’s time to go away,
They swear to meet again next day. BACK TO TOP

4. Egloshayle Ringers

Tom Brown:lead vocals. Chorus: Cathy Barclay, Barbara Brown, Barry Lister, Charley Yarwood


Come all you jolly ringers and listen to my tale
I'll tell 'ee of five ringers bold that lived in Egloshayle
For to ring the ray they bore the sway wherever they did go
Sweet music of those merry bells was their delight to show.
Lanlivery men, St. Mabyn men, St, Tudy and St. Kew
But these five boys of Egloshayle could all the rest outdo

Now Craddock, the cordwainer, he rang the treble bell
John Ellery was the second man: no man could him excel
The third was Pollard, carpenter, the fourth was Thomas Cleve
Goodfellow was the tenor man who rang 'em round so brave.

Now Craddock, the cordwainer, he stepped long with his toe
And casting of his about, he signalled when to go
The pulled away with courage bold, the heart it did revive
Sweet music then was quickly heard with one, two, three, four, five.

This little corps, they rang so sure, no changes did they fear
No man did ever miss his turn: 'twas joy to see and hear
And people then, from miles around, o'er valley hill and dale
Told of the fame of those ringers bold that lived in Egloshayle

They went up to Lanlivery and they bore away the prize
Nest they went to St. Tudy and there they did likewise
There's Sratton men, St. Merryn men, St. Issey and St. Kew
But these five boys of Egloshayle could all the rest outdo. BACK TO TOP

5. Sir Francis Drake/The Bold Privateer

Tom & Barbara Brown: lead vocals. Tom Brown: English concertina. Ralph Jordan: acoustic bass guitar, Francis Verdigi: fiddle. Malcolm Woods: roped tenor drums. Charley Yarwood: bones.


SIR FRANCIS DRAKE
In eighty-eight, E'er I was born, or I can well remember
In August was a fleet prepared, a month before September

Proud Spain with Biscay, Portugal, Toledo and Grenada
All these did meet and formed one fleet and called it the Armada,

Their navy was well victualled with bully-beef and bacon
Some say two ships were full of whips but I think they were mistaken

Their men were young, munitions strong, to do to us more harm-a
They thought it meet to join their fleet all with the Prince of Parma

They sailèd round about our shores and so came into Dover
Our English lads did board them there and threw the rascals over

The Queen was then at Tilbury, what more could we desire-a
Sir Francis Drake for her sweet sake, he set them all on fire-a

So let them look unto themselves, if they should come again-a
They shall be served as they were then - e'er ever I was born-a.

THE BOLD PRIVATEER

"Farewell my dearest Polly, now you and I must part
To the raging of the seas, my love, I pledge my aching heart
Our ship, she lies a-waiting, so fare thee well my dear
For I am just a-going on board of a bold privateer."

She said "My dearest Jemmy, I hope you will forebear
And do not leave your Polly thus, in grief and in despair
Why don't you stay at home with the girl you love so dear
Than thus to venture your sweet life on a bold privateer?"

He said "My dearest Polly, your friends they do me slight
And your parents say that I'm too young to take you for my wife
From them I now must wander to make my fortune clear
And soon I'll be the captain on a bold privateer.

And when the wars are over, if Heaven spare my life
Then back I will return again and take you for my wife
It's then we will be married to the one we love so dear
And we'll forever bid adieu to the bold privateer." BACK TO TOP

6. Dartmoor Song (Bob Cann)

Barbara Brown: lead vocals. Tom Brown: English concertina


All around our lovely countryside there’s ancient sites galore,
Like many, many you can find on dear old Dartymoor,
Where the men did sweat and toil, my boys, in the cold, the heat and dust,
Just enough to keep their families alive in rags and crust.

They would wake up with the lark, my boys, and off to work would go
Amongst the gorse and heather and across the streams that flow;
They would toil away from dawn till dusk their harvest for to reap,
With ricks of square-cut fags, me boys, and piles of black cut peat.

Take a walk around old Dartymoor, when the sun does brightly shine
Upon the mounds of rubble left from down there in the mine,
In the dark and dust where they did sweat for all the tin and ore
That made the tools their brothers used away out on the moor.

It’s there you’ll find their craftsmanship, so neat, so true and plain,
That once was just a granite rock on the moor in the mist and rain;
The churches and the bridges, the village and the farm,
And the sturdy granite gateways, boys, where the men may stand and yarn.

If you walk across old Dartymoor by morning, noon or night,
The craftsmanship that you’ll find there, oh, it is a lovely sight.
Don’t interfere with their great work that they have left behind;
Keep dear old Dartmoor as it is for the sake of all mankind. BACK TO TOP

7. Tavistock Guzie Fayre

Tom Brown: lead vocals. Chorus: Barbara Brown, Tom Brown, Doug Bailey.


'Twas just a month, come Friday last, Bill Champernowne and me,
Us takes a trip 'cross Dartymoor, the Guzie Fayre to see.
Us made ourselves quite vitty: us oiled and us greased our hair.
Then us dresses ourselves in our Sunday suits behind old Bill's grey mare.
Us smelt the sage and onions all the way cross Whitchurch Down,
And didn't us have a blow-out when us put into the town.
An' there us met Nick Haddiford, Jan Squire and Nicky Square,
And it seems to we, all Devon must be, to Tavistock Guzie Fayre.
And it's Oh!, an' where be gwayne? An' what be doin' of there?
'Eave down you prong and stap along, to Tavistock Guzie Fayre.

Now us went and seed the 'osses and the heifers and the yaws,
And us went on all thick' roundybouts and into all the stalls.
'Twas then it started rainin' and blawin' To His Fey
So off us goes, up to The Rose, and us has a dish o' tay.
Well there us 'ad a sing-song and the folks kept droppin' in.
And them o' them as knawd us, well us 'ad a drop o' gin.
And what with one an' tother, us didn't seem to care
Whether us was to Bellever Tor or Tavistock Guzie Fayre.
Now, 'twas rainin' streams, an' dark as pitch when us started 'ome that night,
As just as us got past Merrivale Bridge well, the mare 'er took a fright.
Says I to Bill "Be careful, or you'll 'ave us in thick' drain"
Says Bill to me "Cor bugger", says he, "Why haven't you got the reigns?".
Just then the mare ran slap against a whackin' girt big stone,
An' 'er kicked the trap to flibberts an' 'er trotted off alone.
When us come to, us reckoned twadn't no use sitting there
So us 'ad to traipse 'ome thirteen mile from Tavistock Guzie Fayre. BACK TO TOP

8. When Mother and Me Joined In (A. J. Coles)

Tom & Barbara Brown: lead vocals. Ralph Jordan: duet concertina


Now Mother and me be the old-fashioned sort,
But us bain’t half so soft as us looks,
There’s lots o’ things that the young ‘uns can larn
Besides what they reads in the books;
Us was ax’d to a dance ‘bout a fortnight ago,
A slap-up affair which us thought quite slow,
No polkas, no gallops, no gay gavottes -
They just walked round and round and they called it foxtrots!
But when Mother and me joined in,
My word, what a time us spent;
Us didn’t know much of the steps (tunes/rules/moves), you see,
But that didn’t matter to Mother and me;
Us made up the steps as us went.
I bowed to mother, her bowed to me,
And the band began to play,
And away us went with a one, two, three -
Us showed the young ‘uns the way!
They was begging our pardon left and right
When we begun to spin;
You’d never believe what a difference it made
When Mother and me joined in!
Well, when Mother and me... (steps)
The room was crowded, there wadn’t much space,
And Mother weighs sixteen stone;
I whirled her round and round the place -
Us soon had the floor to our own;
Us scattered the chaps, they lost their maids,
Us went drough thick and thin;
Oh, you’d never believe what a difference it made
When Mother and me joined in.
Now last summer they had in our parish hall
A choral society;
There was thirty or forty all singing to once
Including Mother and me,
But instead o’ they songs that everyone knows,
‘Twas one o’ they horror-torios;
They was all afraid to sing ‘en out loud,
‘Cus nobody knowed what ‘twas all about.
But when Mother and me... (tunes)
Well, the man in front, ‘e waggled ‘is stick
And the choir begun to squall,
but Mother and me, us drowned the lot
Wi’ Uncle Tom Cobley and all;
I sung treble, and I sung bass;
The tenors was lost in the din;
You’d never believe...
Well, when Mother and me... (tunes)
The choir all sang till they nearly bust
And got in a terrible rage,
But Mother and me, us finished fust
Be’ very near ‘alf a page;
The poor conductor, ‘e lost ‘is place,
‘E didn’t know where to begin;
Oh, you’d never believe...
Now, last Friday night us was invited out
To a whist drive - start at eight;
Us never ‘ad bin to one before,
And us got there a little bit late;
They was all sat round wi’ faces glum
As if they was waiting for Kingdom come,
Like a load of ol’ pa’sons saying their prayers
Wi’ somebody bad in the room upstairs.
But when Mother and me... (rules)
Well, I went fust and I laid down
The ace o’ clubs wi’ a slap;
I was next, I played the ace
O’ trumps, and hollered, ‘Snap!’
The crowd did roar, the MC swore;
We see’d us was gwain ‘a win;
You’d never believe...
Well, when Mother and me... (rules)
Well, I won fust prize be’ all the rules
With a hunderd and ninety-eight,
But they refused to give it me;
They said I’d reckoned in the date;
Mother revoked, her partner choked;
The folks all said, wi’ a grin,
Oh, they’d never believe...
Now last week us went out on a charabanc ride
And got up to some fine high jinks;
Us went to place just to see what was on -
‘Twas one o’ they ‘skating rinks’;
The folks looked very fine and proud
As they went skating round and round;
I see’d some sights I never see’d afore
As they went gliding round the floor.
But when Mother and me... (moves)
Well, a chap fitted me with two left skates
Of quite a different track,
For one was determined to go forrard
And t’other to go back;
When I said, ‘Go!’, I shouted, ‘Whoa!
There’s somebody locked in me shin!’
You’d never believe...
Well, when Mother and me... (moves)
A chap said to me, ‘Where be gwain to next?
I hollered, ‘Goodness knows!’
Then Mother come slap-bang into me arms
And away the both of us goes.
There was skaters in heaps all over the floor
With pieces took out o’ their skin;
Oh, you’d never believe... BACK TO TOP

9. Me Old Game Cock

Barbara Brown: lead vocals. Tom Brown: chorus vocals.


I used to oversleep meself each morn,
I never got up early since the day that I was born,
Then last week I had a bright idea;
I went to Molton market just to make it clear;
I bought a big red rooster, the sort that doesn’t lay,
‘Cos then I thought that he could wake me up each day.
Every morning, every morning, everything is quite alright,
I don’t need a knocker-up and I don’t need a clock,
For underneath me bed I keep my old game cock;
Every morning, every morning I never oversleeps, ‘tis true,
For out I go when the cock begins to crow,
Cock cock cock-a-doodle doo.

Now I thought this rooster led a lonely life,
So I went and bought a hen for him and made them man and wife;
Each night she sleeps in the baby’s cot,
She sits on the water bottle, nice and hot,
So now I gets me breakfast when I get out of bed,
‘Cos on the water bottle is a nice boiled egg.
So all you maidens that have just got wed,
If you’ve got a husband that you can’t get out of bed,
Take my tip and you will all rejoice,
Just get a good old rooster with a tenor voice,
And when he hears his love song, he’ll get out quick, you bet,
So join me in this chorus and you won’t forget. BACK TO TOP

10. Widdecombe Fair

Tom Brown: lead vocals & submarine melodeon. Chorus: Barbara Brown, Doug Bailey


'Tom Pearce, Tom Pearce, lend I the grey mare,
All along, down along, out along, lee,
For I wants for to go to Widdecombe Fair.'
Wi’ Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy,
Dan'll Whiddon, Harry Hawk,
Old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all,
Old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all.

'Well, when shall I see again my old grey mare?'
'By Friday noon, or come Saturday soon.'

Now Friday was gone, and Saturday come,
Tom Pearce's grey mare her had not trotted home.

So Tom Pearce he went up on a very high hill,
And he seed his old mare down a‑making her will.

'Well, how did you know it was your old grey mare?'
'One foot was shod and the other three bare.'

Now Tom Pearce's old mare, her took sick and died,
And Tom Pearce he sat down on a stone and he cried.

When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night,
Tom Pearce's grey mare doth appear, ghastly white.

And all the long night be heard skirtlings and groans
From Tom Pearce's grey mare down a‑rattling her bones.

And that is the end of this shocking affair.
All along, down along, out along, lee,
I've just gived 'ee the career of Tom Pearce's grey mare.
Wi’ Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy,
Dan’l Widdon, Harry Hawk,
Old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all,
Old Uncle Tom Cobbley and all. BACK TO TOP

11. Where Umber Flows (Barbara Brown)

Chris Bartram: fiddle. Tom Brown: guitar. Keith Kendrick: English concertina.

BACK TO TOP

12. Mortal Unlucky Ol' Chap

Tom Brown: lead vocals. Chris Bartram: fiddle. Keith Holloway: melodeon. Keith Kendrick: concertina. Barry Lister: Trombone & chorus. Additional chorus: Cathy Barclay, Barbara Brown, Barry Lister.


I've come 'ere to sing ‘ee a song,
For certain I shan’t keep ‘ee long,
But sure as you see me, you’ll ‘ave to forgive me,
I’m bound for to sing ‘en all wrong.
I’m a most mortal unlucky ol’ chap;
Did ‘ee ever ‘ear tell such a case?
From morning till night, naught never goes right;
‘Tis enough t’ drive any man maze.

I went out t’other day wi’ me dog,
Got stuck up to me knees in a bog;
I were blazin’ away at the rabberts all day,
But I never shot naught but me dog.
I sold all of me ‘ool t’other day
For fourpence three-farthin’ a pound;
The very next day me neighbour did say
‘Twas gone up to sixpence all round.

Now Doubtless, you’ve all a-yeard tell
‘Bout thic prize Deb’n bull that I’ve got;
When I got out o’ bed t’other day ‘e was dead
Wi’ a mangold stuck right back ‘is drot.
And me fowls they all died of the gapes,
And the rist ‘as got into me wheat,
Grass is so scarce all over the place
That there’s naught for me bullocks to eat.

Me chimley’s a bugger to smoke,
And me wife ‘er goes crootin’ about,
I gets soot in me broth and fried taties is path;
‘Tis enough to put any man out.
And me dairy’ll never keep cool,
And me butter and cream’s always spoiled,
And last Sunday, Pat, our old tabby cat,
‘Er falled into the crock and her boiled!

Now Janner, ‘e’s gone for a sodger,
And Sal ‘ave picked up wi’ a tramp,
And young Billy’s a fool though I kicked ‘en to school,
And Harry’s a reg’lar young scamp.
‘Ow to pay me year’s rent, I dunnaw
‘Less the landlord’ll pull summin’ back,
So friends, I call you to ‘help me pull through
Or ‘e’s certain to gi’ me the sack. BACK TO TOP

13. Bampton Fair ( Paul Wilson)

Tom & Barbara Brown: lead vocals. Tom Brown: English concertina

Are you going to Bampton Fair, Get your beer down, bob, we're moving -- Are you going to Bampton Fair, boy? We'll go to the fair like we always done, Get in the car and give it a run, Get a few friends and have some fun. Down at the Bampton Fair, boy, Down at the Bampton Fair. Who did you see at Bampton Fair, Who did you see at Bampton Fair, boy? Old 'uns, young 'uns, me and you, Travellers, farmers, and visitors too, They even had a T.V. crew,
What did you drink at Bampton Fair, What did you drink at Bampton Fair, boy? Twenty-one pints and one for me head, Or a scotch or a brandy or a pot instead, All served up in a muddy old shed, What did you buy at Bampton Fair, What did you buy at Bampton Fair, boy? A crockery set that's got no cups, A brand new shirt that's got no cuffs, A bloomin' old grai that's got no puff, What did you get at Bampton Fair, What did you get at Bampton Fair, boy? Two black eyes and a broken nose, A cut on me head and I tore me clothes, Caught a cold and I damn near froze,
Will you go again to Bampton Fair,
Will you go again to Bampton Fair, boy?
If the pubs are open and the beer is free,
If the landlord says, "It's all on me."
If I can't think of anywhere else to be, BACK TO TOP

14. Seeds Of Love

Barbara Brown: vocals. Tom Brown: guitar & octave mandola

BACK TO TOP

15. Soap, Starch & Candles

Tom Brown: lead vocals. Barbara Brown: chorus vocals. Keith Holloway: melodeon. Ralph Jordan: duet concertina. Francis Verdigi: fiddle.


It was on last Easter Monday that I took trip to Combe
'Twas there I met a charming girl and of her I'll sing to you
It was on the steamboat we first met and I felt me heart go 'flop'
For she told me her name, and then described to me her father's shop, with:
Soap, starch, candles, fender brick and turpentine,
Pepper, glue and mustard, and cod liver oil and scent,
And black lead, clothes line, treacle, peas and fishing line,
Colours mixed for painting, pots and brushes lent.

When I saw them playing at kissing-in-the-ring well I joined her in that scene.
She often threw her glove at me to chase her round the green
And when I caught her, Oh what bliss, to span that tender waist
And when I kissed her, how i said of heaven those lips did taste, with:

Now a year's gone by, and her and me - we decided to get wed
And in the back room of the shop we had a grand old spread
And then her father came to me and he made me heart go 'flop'
For he said to me that we could keep the corner shop, with: BACK TO TOP

16. Pleasant and Delightful

Tom & Barbara Brown: lead vocals. Chorus vocals: Cathy Barclay, Barry Lister, Rowan Riley, Charley Yarwood


It was pleasant and delightful on a bright summer's morn
All the hills and the meadows were covered with corn
The blackbirds and thrushes sang from every greenwood tree
And the larks, they sang melodious at the dawning of day.
And the larks they sang melodious,
And the larks they sang melodious,
And the larks they sang melodious
At the dawning of day.

Now a sailor and his true love were a-walking one day
Said the sailor to his true love, "I'm bound far away.
I'm bound for the Indies where the loud cannons roar
I must go and leave my Nancy, she's the girl I adore."
I must go... etc.

Then the ring from her finger, she instantly drew
Saying "Take this, dear William, and my heart goes to."
And as he embraced her tears from her eyes fell
Saying "May I go Along with you". "Nay Nancy, farewell."
Saying... etc.

"Fare thee well, dearest Nancy, I can no longer stay
For the tops'l is hoisted and the anchor's away
Our good ship lies waiting for the next flowing tide
And if ever I return again, I'll make you my bride."
"And if ever... etc. BACK TO TOP

17. Barnstaple Fair

Barbara Brown: vocals. Tom Brown: melodeon


I’m a beautiful Devonshire maiden
And love all the fun of the fair.
I’ve got a most beautiful jumper
And ribbons to match for my hair
But father he says I’m too flighty
And mother says many a prayer
But Harry and Tommy
And Ernie and Johnny
Are waiting for me at the fair.

Oh the organs are playing so sweetly
And the horse are swinging along
I can hear all the noise and the laughter
I’m longing to join in the throng
Now father’s dear eyes look so anxious
And mother says many a prayer
But Harry and Tommy
And Ernie and Johnny
Are waiting for me at the fair. BACK TO TOP

18. Wives Of St. Ives

Tom Brown: lead vocals. Chorus vocals: Keith Kendrick. Barry Lister. Dave Webber. Charley Yarwood.


It was on a Monday morning, way down in old St. Ives
There was four-and-twenty fishers, there was four-and-twenty wives.
Each wife, she would be talking. Each wife, she would be heard.
"It seems to me", says Jack, says he, "we sha'n't get in a word."
"Clackety, clack," says Will to Jack, "Clackety, clack," says he,
"They say, out there, there's mermaids fair, come boys, let us go out to sea!"

So these four and twenty fishers sailed away most gallantly
And they met those fair mermaidens at the bottom of the sea.
And there they courted gaily, for a thousand years or more,
Till they remembered their wives, and old St. Ives, and thought it was time to go.
"Clackety, clack," says Will to Jack, "Clackety, clack," says he,
"Do you think they're at their same old crack? Come boys, let us go back and see."
So these four and twenty fishers arose from out the main
And they came to St. Ives on a Friday to see their wives again.
"Alas, 'tis a thousand years boys - perhaps they're gone," said Will.
So they just peeped round the corner - and there they were - talking still.
"Clackety, clack," says Will to Jack, "Clackety, clack," says he,
"Oh a chattering wife is the plague of your life. Come boys, let us go back to sea." BACK TO TOP

19. The Watchet Sailor

Barbara Brown: vocals. Tom Brown: guitar


As I was a-walking down Watchet's Swayne Street,
A jolly old shipmate I chanced for to meet;
Hello, brother sailor, you’re welcome to home;
In season to Watchet I think you are come.

Now don’t you remember once courting a maid;
Now through your long absence she’s going to be wed;
Tomorrow in Bristol this wedding’s to be,
And I am invited the same for to see.

Jack went and got licence that very same night,
And walked into Bristol as soon as ‘twas light;
He sat in the Temple churchyard for a while
Till he saw the bride coming, which caused him to smile.

He went and he took this fair maid by the hand;
You’re going to be married as I understand.
Well, if you are to marry, then you’ll be my bride,
And I have come here for to change your design.

Oh, now, said this fair maid, It’s what shall I do,
For I know I was solemnly promised to you.
Well, it’s you are my sweetheart, and I’ll be your bride,
For there’s none in this world I could fancy beside.

Then the bridegroom he roared like a man that was mad,
I’m ruined, I’m ruined, I’m ruined, he said;
All you that have sweethearts take them while you may,
Or else the Jack Tars they will take them away. BACK TO TOP

20. The Farmer's Boy

Tom & Barbara Brown: lead vocals. Additional chorus vocals: Doug Bailey & Tom Brown


The sun had set behind yon hill when across a dreary moor,
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer’s door.
‘Can you tell me if here it be that I can find employ,
to plough and sow, to reap and mow, to be a farmer’s boy,
To be a farmer’s boy?

Me father’s dead and mother’s left with five children great and small,
And worst to bear for Mother is I’m the eldest of them all;
Though little I’ll work as hard as a turk if you’ll give me employ
to plough etc.

And if you will not me employ, one favour I’ve to ask,
Shelter me till break of day from this cold winter’s blast;
At the break of day I’ll trudge away elsewhere to seek employ
to plough etc.

‘Come, try the lad,’ the mistress said, ‘Let him no longer seek.’
‘Yes, do, dear Father,’ the daughter cried, and the tears trickled down her cheek.
‘’Tis hard to want, to seek for food and to wander for employ,
Don’t make him go, but let him stay to be a farmer’s etc.

In course of time, the lad grew up and the poor old couple died,
Leaving the lad the farm that they’d had and their daughter for to be his bride.
Now the lad that was, a man now is, often smiles and thinks with joy
Of the happy day he came that way to be a farmer’s boy
To be a farmer’s boy,
And he blesses the day he came that way to be a farmer’s boy
To be a farmer’s boy. BACK TO TOP

21. March Of The Men Of Devon

Anahata: 'cello. Tom Brown: English concertina. Joan Holloway: bones. Keith Holloway: melodeon.
Ralph Jordan: Mandolin. Barry Lister: tuba. Paul Sartin: fiddle.

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