оБ ЬФПК УФТБОЙЮЛЕ РЩФМЙЧЩК РПЛМПООЙЛ ФЧПТЮЕУФЧБ The Racoons НПЦЕФ ПВОБТХЦЙФШ ФЕЛУФЩ РЕУЕО, Л УПЪДБОЙА ЛПФПТЩИ ПОЙ, "ЕОПФЩ", ОЕ ЙНЕАФ БВУПМАФОП ОЙЛБЛПЗП ПФОПЫЕОЙС. юФП, ЧРТПЮЕН, ОЕ НЕЫБЕФ ЙН ЬФЙ РЕУОЙ РЕФШ ОБ ТБДПУФШ РПЮФЕООПК РХВМЙЛЕ.

The Wild Rover (Traditional) I've been a wild rover for many's the year I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer But now I'm returning with gold in great store And I never will play the wild rover no more And it's No, Nay, never, No, nay never no more Will I play the wild rover, No never no more I went in to an alehouse I used to frequent And I told the landlady me money was spent I asked her for credit, she answered me nay Such a customer as you I can have any day And it's No, Nay, never, No, nay never no more Will I play the wild rover, No never no more I took up from my pocket, ten sovereigns bright And the landlady's eyes opened wide with delight She says "I have whiskeys and wines of the best And the words that you told me were only in jest" And it's No, Nay, never, No, nay never no more Will I play the wild rover, No never no more I'll go home to my parents, confess what I've done And I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son And, when they've caressed me as oft times before I never will play the wild rover no more And it's No, Nay, never, No, nay never no more Will I play the wild rover, No never no more

The Wild Rover Dicey Reilly Molly Malone Bog Down In The Valley The Irish Rover Spanish Lady Sam Hall Star Of The County Down The Rare Old Mountain Dew Dirty Old Town Gartloney Rats Ye Jacobites By Name Home Boys Home Jument de Michao Malurone-Lurette V`la l`bon vent Je Regrette Nom de Nom J`ai promis a ma chere amie Sur l`Pont d`Morlaix Bella Ciao! Augustin

ОБЧЕТИ

Dicey Reilly

(Traditional)

Poor aul Dicey Reilly she has taken to the sup
Poor aul Dicey Reilly she will never give it up
It's off each morning to the pub
And then she's in for another little drop
Ah, the heart of the rule is Dicey Reilly

She walks along Fitzgibbon Street with an independent air
And then it's down by Summerhill and as the people stare
She says it's nearly half past one and it's time I had another little one
Ah, the heart of the rule is Dicey Reilly

Long years ago when men were men and fancied May of Long
Or lovely Becky Cooper or Maggie's Mary Wong
One woman put them all to shame, just one was worthy of the name
And the name of that dame was Dicey Reilly

But time went catching up on her like many pretty ones
It's after you along the street before you're out the door
Their balance vague, their looks all fade, but out of all that great brigade
Still the heart of the rule is Dicey Reilly

Poor aul Dicey Reilly she has taken to the sup
Poor aul Dicey Reilly she will never give it up
It's off each morning to the pub
And then she's in for another little drop
Ah, the heart of the rule is Dicey Reilly

ОБЧЕТИ

Molly Malone

(Traditional)

In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

She was a fishmonger and sure it was no wonder
For so were her father and mother before
And they both wheeled their barrows through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

She died of a fever and no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
Now her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

ОБЧЕТИ

Bog Down In The Valley

(Traditional)

Ref.: Oh-ro, rattlin` bog, with a bog down in the valley o,
Rare bog, rattlin` bog, with a bog down in the valley o!

And in the bog there was a tree, rare tree, rattlin` tree
With a tree in the bog
and the bog down in the valley o

Ref.:

On the tree there was a limb, rare limb, rattlin` limb
With a limb on the tree
and the tree in the bog
and the bog down in the valley o

Ref.:

On the limb there was a branch, rare branch, rattlin` branch
With a branch on the limb
and the limb on the tree
and the tree in the bog
and the bog down in the valley o

Ref.:

On the branch there was a twig, rare twig, rattlin` twig
With a twig on the branch
and

On the twig there was a nest

In the nest there was an egg

On an egg there was a bird

On the bird there was a feather

On the feather there was a flea

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The Irish Rover

(Traditional)

On the Fourth of July 1806 we
set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
for the grand City Hall in New York
'twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged for and aft
and oh, how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts, she had twenty-seven masts
and they called her the Irish Rover

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags,
we had two million barrels of stone
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides,
we had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs, and six million dogs,
seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny-goats' tails
in the hold of the Irish Rover

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee,
there was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work
and a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
and Fighting Bill Treacy from Dover
And your man, Mike McCann from the banks of the Bann
was the skipper on the Irish Rover

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
and the ship lost it's way in the fog
And that whale of a crew was reduced down to two,
just meself and the Captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, Oh Lord! what a shock,
the bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned
and the last of the Irish Rover

ОБЧЕТИ

Spanish Lady

(Traditional)

As I went out through Dublin City
At the hour of twelve o'clock at night
Who should I see but the Spanish lady
Washing her feet by candlelight
First she washed it
Then she dried it
Over a fire of amber coals
In all my life I never did see
A maid so sweet about the sole

Whack for the tur a lur a laddy
Whack for the tur a lur a lay
Whack for the tur a lur a laddy
Whack for the tur a lur a lay

As I went down through Dublin City
At the hour of half past eight
Who do I see but the Spanish lady
Combing her hair so trim and neat
First she brushed it
Then she combed it
On her lap was a silver comb
In all my life I never did see
A maid so sweet since I did roam

As I walked out through Dublin City
As the sun began to set
Who should I see but the Spanish lady
Catch a moth in her golden net
First she spied me then she fled me
Hitchin' her petticoat over her knee
In all my life ne'er did I see
A maid so fair as the Spanish Lady

ОБЧЕТИ

Sam Hall

(Traditional)

Oh my name it is Sam Hall chimney sweep, chimney sweep
Oh my name it is Sam Hall chimney sweep
Oh my name it is Sam Hall and I've robbed both great and small
And my neck will pay for all when I die, when I die
And my neck will pay for all when I die

I have twenty pounds in store, that's not all, that's not all
I have twenty pounds in store, that's not all
I have twenty pounds in store and I'll rob for twenty more
For the rich must help the poor, so must I, so must I
For the rich must help the poor, so must I

Oh they took me to Cootehill in a cart, in a cart
Oh they took me to Cootehill in a cart
Oh they took me to Cootehill where I stopped to make my will
Saying the best of friends must part, so must I, so must I
Saying the best of friends must part, so must I

Up the ladder I did grope, that's no joke, that's no joke
Up the ladder I did grope, that's no joke
Up the ladder I did grope and the hangman pulled the rope
And ne'er a word I spoke, tumbling down, tumbling down
And ne'er a word I spoke tumbling down

Oh my name it is Sam Hall chimney sweep, chimney sweep
Oh my name it is Sam Hall chimney sweep
Oh my name it is Sam Hall and I've robbed both great and small
And my neck will pay for all when I die, when I die
And my neck will pay for all when I die

ОБЧЕТИ

Star Of The County Down

(Traditional)

Near Banbridge town in the County Down one morning last July
Down a Boreen green came a sweet colleen and she smiled as she passed me by
She looked so sweet from her two bare feet to the sheen of her nut-brown hair
Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself, for to see I was really there

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen that I met in the County Down

As she onward sped, sure I scratched my head and I looked with a feeling rare
And I says, says I, to a passer-by: Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?
He smiled at me and he says, says he: That's the gem of Irelands crown
Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann she's the star of the County Down

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen that I met in the County Down

At the harvest fair she'll be surely there, so I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
With my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked right, for a smile from my nut-brown rose
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke, til my plough is a rust-coloured brown
Til a smiling bride by my own fireside, sits the star of the County Down

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen that I met in the County Down
From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen that I met in the County Down

ОБЧЕТИ

The Rare Old Mountain Dew

(Samuel Lover)

Let the grasses grow and the waters flow
In a free and easy way
But give me enough of the rare old stuff
That's made near Galway Bay
Come gangers all from Donegal,
Sligo and Leitrim too
Oh, we'll give 'em a slip and we'll take a sip
Of the rare old mountain dew

thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum
thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey
thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum
thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey

There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill,
Where the smoke curls up to the sky
By a whiff of the smell you can plainly tell,
That there's poitin, boys, close by
For it fills the air with a perfume rare,
And betwixt both me and you
As home we roll, we can drink a bowl,
Or a bucketful of mountain dew

Now learned men as use the pen,
Have writ the praises high
Of the sweet poitin from Ireland green,
Distilled from wheat and rye
Away with yer pills, it'll cure all ills,
Be ye Pagan, Christian or Jew
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucketful of mountain dew

ОБЧЕТИ

Dirty Old Town

(Ewan MacColl)

I met my love by the gasworks wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old town

Clouds are drifting across the moon
Cats are prowling on their beat
Springs a girl from the streets at night
Dirty old town, dirty old town

I heard a siren from the docks
Saw a train set the night on fire
I smelled the spring on the smokey wind
Dirty old town, dirty old town

I'm going to make me a big sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fire
I'll chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town, dirty old town

ОБЧЕТИ

Gartloney Rats

(The Pogues)
The boys from the village were festering sore
For a day on the rant with some music and more
They'd drink porter in Maura's way over in Fore
And never get drunk but stay sober

There was Harry the banjo and Dunne of the swan
With whose bone from the wing he'd beat the bodhran
And the song that he'd sing was of ganders and all
He'd never get drunk but stay sober

There was Woods on the Guitar and auld squeeze box too
Who came from a time before aeroplanes flew
He'd sit in a corner and mule quite a few
And he'd never get drunk but stay sober

There was Mahon the singer who knew all the songs
And never was known to put a foot wrong
He'd sing through the night till the break o' the morn
And he'd never get drunk but stay sober

Then Harry the banjo now there was a man
A bottomless pit if ever there was one
More porter he'd lower that there was in the land
And he'd Never get drunk but stay sober

Well the Gartloney Rats would play away
They'd play for the pints and not for the pay
And the pints they'd go down in the usual way
And they'd never get drunk but stay sober

ОБЧЕТИ

Ye Jacobites By Name

(Robert Burns)

Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name yer faults I will proclaim
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear, you will hear
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear

What is right, what is wrong, by the law, by the law
What is right and what is wrong by the law
What is right, what is wrong, the weak arm and the strong
The short sword and the long for to draw, for to draw
The short sword and the long for to draw

What makes heroic strife famed afar, famed afar
What makes heroic strife famed afar?
What makes heroic strife, to whet the assassin's knife
And haunt a parent's life wi bloody war, bloody war
And haunt a parent's life wi bloody war

So let yer schemes alone in the State, in the State
Let yer schemes alone in the State
Let yer schemes alone, adore the Rising Sun
And leave a man undone to his fate, to his fate
And leave a man undone to his fate

ОБЧЕТИ

Home Boys Home

(уФБТЙООЩК ФБОЕГ hanter-dro ЙЪ ПВМБУФЙ оБОФБ)

Quand j'Кtais chez mon pЙre,
Maluron malurette, maluron malurК,
GarЪon Б marier,

Je n'avais rien Б faire,
Maluron...
Qu'une femme Б chercher.

Un jour j'en trouvis une
Maluron...
A la barriЙre d'un prК.

Je lui demandis belle,
Maluron...
Veux-tu t'y marier?

La fille Кtait jeunette,
Maluron...
Elle s'est mise a pleurer

Que fais-tu sur ces landes,
Maluron...
Elle s'est mise Б chanter.

Attends petite sotte,
Maluron...
Je t'y rattraperai!

Ma mЙre, elle est malade,
Maluron...
Je reste a la soigner.

Quand elle sera guКrie
Maluron...
MariКe je serai

A vu un gentil jeune homme
Maluron...
Qu'est garЪon boulanger.

Il a la chemise blanche
Maluron...
Comme la feuille en papier

Il a les cheveux jaunes
Maluron...
Et le sourcil dorК.

оБЧЕТИ

V`la l`bon vent

(ronde de LoudКac)

Mon pЙre a fait bЧtir maison,
je regrette nom de nom

refrain
je regrette nom de nom mes vingt ans qui s'en vont
je regrette nom de d'lБ mon beau temps qui s'en va

Par quatre-vingt jolis maЪons
Le plus jeune il est mon mignon

Mais qu'as-tu lБ sous ton giron ?
C'est un pЧtК de trois pigeons

Assieds-toi donc nous le mangerons
En s'asseyant il fit trois bonds

Qui fit trembler mer et poissons
Et le cailloux qui sont au fond
Monsieur le curК dans son salon

ОБЧЕТИ

J'ai promis Б ma chЙre amie