Peggy-O

(Traditional, arrangement copyright © 2008 J. Hardy & D. Massengill)

As we marched down to Fenario
As we marched down to Fenario
Our captain fell in love
With a lady like a dove
And the name she was called was pretty Peggy-o

What would your mother think pretty Peggy-o
What would your mother think pretty Peggy-o
What would your mother think
For to hear those guineas clink
And them soldiers all marching before ye-o

Come along with me pretty Peggy-o
Come along with me pretty Peggy-o
In coaches ye shall ride
With your true love by your side
Just as grand as any ladies in this are-o

You're the man I adore handsome Willie-o
You're the man I adore handsome Willie-o
You're the man I adore
But your fortune is too low
And I fear my ma-ma would be angry-o

Come a trippin' down them stairs pretty Peggy-o
Come a trippin' down them stairs pretty Peggy-o
Come a trippin' down them stairs
And tie back your yellow hair
And bid a last farewell to handsome Willie-o

Our captain he lies dead pretty Peggy-o
Our captain he lies dead pretty Peggy-o
Our captain he lies dead
His own bullet in his head
And he's buried in Louisiana country-o

If ever I return pretty Peggy-o
If ever I return pretty Peggy-o
If ever I return
Your damn cities I will burn
And destroy all tem ladies in this are-o

(repeat first verse)

Losers

(Words and music by Dave Van Ronk, copyright © Folklore Music ASCAP)

I blew my wad playin' seven card stud
I was playin' for money they was playin' for blood
On the way back home the big winner got mugged
Now he's just another loser like me

Losers losers
I got took for my whosis
That shark got crowned  now he's grown bin bound
He's just another loser like me

See that kid sittin' back of the bar
He's pickin' up a storm on a Martin guitar
That poor fool thinks he's gonna be a star
He's just another loser like me

Losers losers
Some are raggers some are blues-ers
Makin' disco sounds in a Ho-Jo lounge
With a bunch of other losers like me

Love has busted up this cat for sure
He's cryin' like a baby at his baby's door
That poor fool don't know what he's cryin' for
He's just another loser like me

Losers losers
Can't say no to cruisers
When she says when he'll be back again
He's just another loser like me

There's a hobo up in heaven on the golden street
He'll panhandle every angel that he'll meet
He'll hock his halo for some sneaky pete
He's just another loser like me

Losers losers
Some are dopers some are boozers
But all the muscatel is down in hell
With all the other losers like me

When God appeared to Saint John Wayne
He told him, "Duke, I'm comin' again,
And life is just a wagon train,
And I'm glad your not a loser like me!"

Losers losers
Teb gallon bruisers
From Ghengis Kahn to the Fuller brush man
They're just a bunch of losers like me

On the Road to Fairfax County

(Copyright © 1980 David Massengill Music ASCAP)

O once I loved an outlaw
He came and stole my heart
O how I count the hours
Since we were torn apart

On the road to Fairfax County
I spied a highwayman
He wanted all my money
My heart beat like a drum

I gave him all my money
And sweet he smiled at me
His beauty I took pity
Beneath a black oak tree

We kissed but for an hour
The sun was newly warm
The clouds were as the flowers
That bloom but for a morn

He gave back all my money
And bowed most gallantly
He promised for to meet me
That night beneath the tree

We'd flee to some far island
And there we would be wed
And freely we would live there
With no price upon his head

That night I went to meet him
With my inheritance
He kissed me 'neath the half moon
And joyful we did dance

O love betrays all secrets
It whispers in the breeze
The sheriff he did follow
With all his deputies

Like hounds rushing to slaughter
The fox whose luck is run
He stood erect and cursed them
"Goddamn you every one!"

They seized him in a fury
And heading not my plea
They hung him from the oak tree
Where he made love to me

(repeat first verse)

The Worst President Ever

(Copyright © 2007, 2008 Jack Hardy Music BMI)

Stuck in traffic at stop and go speed I like to entertain myself
With all of the bumper stickers I can read, humor's hidden wealth
There's "nuke the gay whales" and "whirled peas" but by far the one most clever
Gave no name, laid no blame, just said THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER

Black is white, white is black, there's yellowcake in Iraq
Weapons of mass destruction, reconstruction still on track
When the wall street journal and fox news endorse our "president-for-life-forever"
Their polls will attest he's still the best WORST PRESIDENT EVER

(chorus 1:)
THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER, THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER
Don't forget you bumbling fools you're the ones who pulled the lever
If you just can't wait till 2008 to say NO, NAY, NEVER
It ain't a reach, we can still impeach THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER

He sold our soul to the corporate goals, the Enron hangover still hurts
It'll take years to calm our fears from color code alerts
If we ever survive his supreme court there are a few things we'll have to sever
Like "church and state" and "the fourth estate" and THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER

Wolfowitz, Rumsfeld, Karl Rove, Scooter Libby and all their kind
Rats leaving a sinking ship, guess who's "left behind"
Maybe there's space in the star-wars race for a spot on the space shuttle Endeavor
To the moon, none too soon for THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER

(chorus 2:)
THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER, THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER
Don't forget you bumbling fools we're the ones who pull the lever
If we just can't wait till 2008 to say NO, NAY, NEVER
It ain't a reach, we can still impeach THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER

Well you can dress him up in a cowboy hat or a monkey-suit in style
You can try to hide his blue blood and the best schooling money can buy
You can rig all of the voting machines and the voter list counterfeit
But all the while, he's just a pile of... THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER

9/11 and Abu Grebe and torture at the CIA
But he gets his interns from Bible College, they never even heard of a "BJ"
But there's plenty left to investigate, if only the congress had balls
But we're out of time and I'm out of rhymes for THE WORST PRESIDENT EVER

(repeat chorus 2)

Rider on an Orphan Train

(Copyright © 1995 David Massengill Music ASCAP)

Once I rode an orphan train
And my brother did the same
They split us up in Missouri
James was five and I was three

He got taken by some pair
But for me they did not care
We were brave and did not cry
When they made us say goodbye

That was the last I saw of him
Before some family took me in
But I swore I'd run away
And find my brother James someday

I went back when I was grown
To see how old the Children's home
And I asked for to see my file
Of when I was an orphan child

It's sad to say, there's been a flood
File washed away in Missouri mud
Sometimes life is a stone wall
You either climb or else you fall

In every town on every street
All the faces that I meet
And I wonder could one be
My brother James come back to me

Though I don't know where he's gone
I have searched my whole life long
Now I roam from town to town
But there's no orphan lost and found

Sometimes I dream a pleasant sight
My brother James and I unite
Remembering our last goodbye
No longer brave we start to cry

I hope he lives a life of ease
All his days a soft warm breeze
May he sit upon a throne
And may he never sleep alone

(repeat first verse)

God Smiled Down

(Copyright © Jonathan Byrd)

God put on His Groucho glasses
When He made ugly lads and lovely lasses
And put them in the same high school classes
To play the game
And He danced around in His lampshade hat
When He made some skinny and He made some fat
And said "look at that, boys, look at that."
As we covered up in shame
All the parts above and the parts beneath
And God smiled down with spinach in His teeth

Oh my God what was He thinkin'
When He made us come out all cryin' and stinkin'
With our little godly eyes a-blinkin'
At the wonder of it all
His only son was born that way
And we broke that boy like a jar of clay
Now we celebrate that glorious day
Down at the mall
All red and green like a blood and money wreath
God smiles down with spinach in His teeth

Downtown at the Comedy Zone
He holds the golden microphone
He's a laugh a minute and He's always on
But nobody seems to care
We're all down at the House of God
Where the preacher speaks and the church folks nod
Don't you think it's a little odd
If  there's no humor there
When everybody's looking for relief
God smiles down with spinach in His teeth

Come All Ye Fair and Tender Ladies

(Traditional, arrangement copyright © 2008 J. Hardy & D. Massengill)

Come all ye fair and tender ladies
Be careful how you court your men
They're like a star in a bright may morning
First appear and then they're gone

They'll tell to you some pleading story
They'll tell to you some down-right lie
Straight away they'll go and court another
Let that other one pass you by

If  I'd have known before I courted
That love was such a killing crime
I would locked my heart in a box of golden
Tied it up in a silver twine

He took my heart just as it blossomed
And crushed it through his lily-white hand
Dear Lord look down on me a sinner
If I ever trust another man

The soundest apple will soon be rotten
The warmest love will soon grow cold
Young men's advice is so uncertain
I pray young girls don't you be so bold

If I had wings of some small sparrow
If I had wings to fly so high
I would fly away to my false true lover
While he'd talk I would sit and cry

But as it is I am no sparrow
Nor have I wings to fly
So I'll sit down all broken hearted
Try to pass all my troubles by

Ode to a Mouse

(Copyright © David Massengill Music ASCAP)

I buried a mouse
That drowned in a commode
Though we weren't acquainted
I wrote it this ode
What we had in common
A man and a mouse
Well for one thing we were
Both guests of the house

Mouse, mouse

My friend was away
But left his door unlocked
Though by force of habit
Politely I knocked
Then I went inside
To make use of the house
And discovered alas
A poor drowned mouse

Mouse, mouse

I picked up the mouse
By its wee tiny tale
Its wee hands and feet
Were piteously frail
That I mourn a stranger
You may find it odd
Just as others may doubt
A beneficent God

Mouse, mouse

I fashioned a cross
Out of cornstalk and twine
Right there in the garden
I built a small shrine
Though my choice of coffin
Was unorthodox
As I tucked the mouse in
A crackerjack box

Mouse, mouse

I hope when I die
There will be someone there
Who though they don't know me
Will tenderly care
The funeral procession
Was me and some birds
Though it may seem profane
I said a few words

I said, mouse, mouse

(repeat first verse)

Mouse, mouse, A-mouse

Go Tell the Savior

(Copyright © 1976, 2008 Jack Hardy Music BMI)

This is the last weary road I'm going to travel
The last weary night in a cheap hotel
And it's hard to kneel down and pray
And thank the lord for another day
When the morning only means you missed another meal

(chorus:)
Go tell my mama that I was wrong to break her heart
Go tell my papa that he was right, right from the start
And go tell them patron saints that they forgot
To watch out for where I roamed
And go tell the savior I'm comin' home

Well I must admit it was my childhood dream to travel
From the stories that you hear of wine women and song
But if the wine don't blur your eyes
The women might make you realize
They are taking off their clothes just to put you on

(repeat chorus)

This is the last weary road I'm going to travel
The last weary night in a cheap hotel
And I'm feeling all I've got
Are my feelings all tied up in knots
And the morning just might find me half way to hell

(repeat chorus)

Maeve

(Copyright © 2008 Jack Hardy Music BMI)

Brave the cold as it boldly blows the streets signs
Maeve, this city makes you dream of County Clare
Where the winter is nowhere near as cold
And wealth is no longer held in cattle

Crave the arms of the man who brought you here
Maeve, it's not that he lied, he never said he'd stay
As he raided the only treasure you had left
It's not that he's bad, only that you believed him

Back home in County Clare
The nuns still haunt dreams with their stares
The ghost of Irish learned in school
The Cattle-Raid of Cooley
And a ruler broken on the knuckles
Sister Bernadette, Sister Bernadette,
I am not ready yet for confession

Slavery is long ago, Saint Patrick or South Boston
Maeve stares at the cornrows in his hair
Thinks of her auntie off in the missions in Africa
While the uncles put staves of barley to better use

Maeve, it is time to go to work amongst the drunken fools
Brave their lovelorn glances, their unfilled glasses gaping
That cave before they rolled the stone away
Before the stork brought something you could not show your mother

Back home in County Clare
The nuns still haunt dreams with their stares
The ghost of Irish learned in school
The Cattle-Raid of Cooley
And a ruler broken on the knuckles
Sister Bernadette, Sister Bernadette,
I am not ready yet for resurrection

Maeve of the unsung gratuities hung in noisy air
Save your money, save your soul if you dare
Say, I will be there, I will be there in County Clare
Where wealth is no longer held in cattle

The Goodnight Loving Trail

(Copyright © Utah Philips / On Strike Music)

Too old to wrangle or ride in the swing
You beat the triangle and curse everything
If dirt were a kingdom then you'd be a king

(chorus:)
On the Goodnight trail on the Loving trail
Our "old woman's" lonesome tonight
You french-harp blows like a lone bawling calf
It's a wonder the wind don't tear off your skin
Get in there and blow out the light

With your snake-oils and herbs and your liniment too
You can do anything that a doctor can do
Except find a cure for your own god-damned stew

The cook fires are all out and the coffee's all gone
The boys are all up and they're raising the dawn
And you're still sitting there lost in a song

Well I know that someday I'll be just the same
Wearing an apron instead of a name
And no one can change it and no one's to blame

For the desert's a book wrote in lizards and sage
It's easy to look like a torn out old page
All faded and cracked with the color of age

Saint James Infirmary Blues

(Traditional, arrangement copyright © 2008 J. Hardy & D. Massengill)

I went down to Saint James Infirmary
To see my baby there
She was lyin' on a long black table
So cold so cool so fair

Went up to see the doctor
She is very low he said
Went back to see my baby
Good God she's lyin' there dead

I went down to Old Joe's Barroom
On the corner by the square
He was servin' drinks as usual
And the usual crowd was there

Up steps old Joe McKennedy
And his eyes they were blood-shot red
He turned his face to the people
And these were the very words he said:

Let her go let her go God bless her
Wherever she may be
She can search this whole wide world over
And never find a better man than me

When I die when I die please bury me
In my high topped Stetson hat
Put a twenty dollar gold-piece on my watch-chain
So my friends know I'm standing pat

Get six gamblers to bear my coffin
Six chorus girls to sing me a song
And put a twenty-piece jazz-band on my tail-gate
To raise hell as we're ridin' along

So here is the end of my story
Let's have us another shot of booze
So if anyone asks ya'just gotta tell them
I got the Saint James Infirmary blues

Let her go let her go God bless her
Wherever she may be
She can search this whole wide world over
And never find a better man than me

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The Folk Brothers — Lyrics for Partners in Crime