Down to the River to Pray
attributed to George H. Allen
arr. Mark D. Templeton
As I went down to the river to pray,
Studyin’ about that good ol’ way,
When you shall wear the starry(/robe and) crown,
Good Lord! Show me the way.
Oh, Brothers(/Fathers/Mothers/Sisters/Children), let’s go down,
Let’s go down, come on down.
Oh, Brothers(/Fathers/Mothers/Sisters/Children), let’s go down,
Down to the river to pray.
Red Is the Rose
Irish traditional
arr. The High Kings, ed. Ian A. Cook
Come over the hills my bonnie Irish lass,
Come over the hills to your darling.
You choose the road, Love, and I’ll make the vow,
And I’ll be your true love forever.
CHORUS
Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows.
Fair is the lily of the valley.
Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne,
But my love is fairer than any.
’Twas down by Killarney’s green woods that we strayed
When the moon and the stars they were shining.
The moon shone its rays on her locks of golden hair,
And she swore she’d be my love forever.
It’s not for the parting that my sister pains,
It’s not for the grief of my mother.
It’s all for the loss of my bonnie Irish lass
That my heart is breaking forever.
Moonshiner
American/Irish traditional
arr. Brian Dean
I am a moonshiner
For seventeen long years,
I spent all my money
On whiskey and beer.
I go to some hollow
And set up my still,
And if the bottle don’t kill me,
Then I don’t know what will.
I go to some barroom
And drink with my friends.
Where the women can’t follow
And see what I spend.
God bless those pretty women,
I wish they was mine!
Their breath is as sweet
As dew on the vine!
Let me eat when I’m hungry.
Let me drink when I’m dry.
A dollar when I’m hard up.
Religion when I die.
The whole world’s a bottle,
And life’s but a dram.
When the bottle gets empty,
It aint worth a damn.
I am a moonshiner.
The River Driver
Canadian traditional
arr. Great Big Sea & Ian A. Cook
I was just the age of sixteen
when I first went on the drive.
After six months hard labour,
At home I did arrive,
And courted with a pretty girl;
’Twas her caused me to roam.
Now I’m a river driver
And I’m far away from home.
CHORUS
I’ll eat when I am hungry
And I’ll drink when I am dry.
Get drunk whenever I’m ready,
Get sober by and by.
And if the river don’t drown me,
It’s down I’ll need to roam.
For I’m a river driver,
And I’m far away from home.
I’ll build a lonesome castle
Upon some mountain high
Where she can sit and view me
As I go passin’ by,
Where she can sit and view me
As I go marching on.
For I’m a river driver
And I’m far away from home.
When I am old and feeble
And in my sickness lie,
just wrap me up in a blanket
And lay me down to die.
Just get a little blue bird
To sing for me alone.
For I’m a river driver
And I’m far away from home.
Underneath the Stars
Kate Rusby, arr. Jim Clements, ed. Ian A. Cook
Oh, go gently.
Underneath the stars I’ll meet you,
Underneath the stars I’ll greet you,
And there beneath the stars I’ll leave you
Before you go of your own free will.
Go gently.
Underneath the stars you met me,
Underneath the stars you left me;
I wonder if the stars regret me.
At least you’ll go of your own free will.
Go gently.
Here beneath the stars I’m landing,
And here beneath the stars not ending,
Oh, why on earth am I pretending?
I’m here again, the stars befriending,
They come and go of their own free will.
Go gently.
Underneath the stars you met me,
Underneath the stars you left me;
I wonder if the stars regret me,
I’m sure they’d like me if they only met me.
They come and go of their own free will.
Go gently.
The Luckiest
Ben Folds, arr. Ian A. Cook
I don’t get many things right the first time.
In fact, I am told that a lot.
Now I know all the wrong turns, the stumbles and falls
Brought me here.
And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it every day.
And I know
That I am,
I am, I am
The luckiest.
What if I’d been born fifty years before you
In a house on the street where you lived?
Maybe I’d be outside as you passed on your bike.
Would I know?
And in a white sea of eyes,
I see one pair that I recognize.
And I know
That I am,
I am, I am
The luckiest.
I love you more than I have
ever found a way to say to you.
Next door there’s an old man who lived to his 90s
And one day passed away in his sleep.
And his wife, she stayed for a couple of days
And passed away.
I’m sorry, I know that’s a
Strange way to tell you that I know we belong.
That I know
That I am,
I am, I am
The luckiest.
The Lion Sleeps Tonight
George David Weiss, Luigi Creatore, & Hugo Peretti
arr. Jon Nicholas
In the jungle, the mighty jungle,
The lion sleeps tonight.
In the jungle, the quiet jungle,
The lion sleeps tonight.
In the village, the peaceful village,
The lion sleeps tonight.
In the village, the quiet village,
The lion sleeps tonight.
Hush, my darling, don’t fear, my darling,
The lion sleeps tonight.
Hush, my darling, don’t fear, my darling,
The lion sleeps tonight.
~~ Brief Intermission ~~
Change on the Rise
Avi Kaplan, arr. Ian A. Cook
Without the light,
Oh, the darkness comes.
Hold through the night,
Mmm, the shadows will run.
Mmm, fend off the enemy,
Sing out the jubilee,
With all the fire we can breathe.
We’re singin’ all day, and you can’t tame it.
High tide, low tide, you know.
Night time, the mornin’ time, and
we’re goin’ strong.
Headed up, down the river.
Oh, Lord, I feel the revelin’,
I feel a change on the rise.
What good’s a man
Who’s lost his soul?
Can’t take a stand
Mmm, when his flame’s gone cold.
Mmm, fend off the enemy,
Sing out the jubilee,
With all the fire we can breathe.
We’re singin’ all day, and you can’t tame it.
High tide, low tide, you know.
Night time, the mornin’ time, and
we’re goin’ strong.
Headed up, down the river.
Oh, Lord, I feel the revelin’,
I feel a change on the rise.
I feel a change on the,
I feel a change on the rise.
I feel a change on the,
I feel a change on the rise.
We’re singin’ all day, and you can’t tame it.
High tide, low tide, you know.
Night time, the mornin’ time, and
we’re goin’ strong.
Headed up, down the river.
Oh, Lord, I feel the revelin’,
I feel a change on the rise.
We’re singin’ all day, and you can’t tame it.
High tide, low tide, you know.
Night time, the mornin’ time, and
we’re goin’ strong.
Headed up, down the river.
Oh, Lord, I feel the revelin’,
I feel a change on the rise.
Helplessly Hoping
Crosby, Stills & Nash, arr. Home Free, trans. Rémi Maréchal, ed. Ian A. Cook
Helplessly hoping,
Her harlequin hovers nearby
Awaiting a word.
Gasping at glimpses
Of gentle true spirit,
He runs, wishing he could fly,
Only to trip at the sound of goodbye.
Wordlessly watching,
He waits by the window and wonders
At the empty place inside.
Heartlessly helping himself
to her bad dreams, he worries.
Did he hear a goodbye?
Or even hello?
They are one person.
They are two alone.
They are three together.
They are for each other.
Stand by the stairway,
You’ll see something certain to tell you
Confusion has its cost.
Love isn’t lying, it’s loose
In a lady who lingers,
Saying she is lost.
And choking on hello.
They are one person.
They are two alone.
They are three together.
They are for each other.
Hide and Seek
Imogen Heap, arr. Ian A. Cook
Where are we?
What the hell is going on?
The dust has only just begun to form
Crop circles in the carpet.
Sinking, feeling.
Spin me around again
And rub my eyes.
This can’t be happening.
When busy streets
Amass with people would stop to hold
Their heads heavy.
Hide and seek.
Trains and sewing machines.
All those years.
They were here first.
Oily marks appear on walls
Where pleasure moments hung before
The takeover,
The sweeping insensitivity of this
Still life.
Hide and seek.
Trains and sewing machines.
(You won’t catch them around here.)
Blood and tears.
They were here first.
Hmm, what’d you say?
Hmm, that you only meant well?
Well of course you did.
Hmm, what’d you say?
Hmm, that it’s all for the best?
Of course it is.
Hmm, what’d you say?
Hmm, that it’s just what we need?
You decided this.
Hmm, what’d you say?
Hmm, what did she say?
Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cutouts.
Speak no feeling, no, I don’t believe you.
You don’t care a bit, you don’t care a bit.
Ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
Mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cutouts.
Speak no feeling, no, I don’t believe you.
You don’t care a bit, you don’t care a bit.
Oh, no, you don’t care a bit.
Oh, no, you don’t care a bit.
Oh, no, you don’t care a bit.
You don’t care a bit.
You don’t care a bit.
Sing for Myself
Jacob Hastings, arr. Taylor Quinn
Out of the fallen trees we sing.
Sing like we’re losing everything.
Lost and without a place to go.
Sing for myself, it’s all I know.
Born to a brand new century.
Sing for our sisters patiently.
Born to a day that’s just begun.
Sing for our mothers and our sons.
We sing for the voices never heard.
Sing for the lessons we’ve still not learned.
Sing for the peace we’ve never won.
Sing for the work that’s still not done.
And if on our darkest days we cry!
Sing till we put our fears aside.
And if I feel myself begin to fold.
Sing for myself, it’s all I know.
Sing for myself, it’s all I know.
Tskhenosnuri
Georgian traditional, arr. Clayton Parr, ed. Ian A. Cook
Adiloi, dilawo delavda aralo,
ivri aralo,
Oi, I am sitting on my horse,
On my black horse, up on the saddle,
ivri aralo,
Oi, I rode out from Ch’iatura,
I loved you and I thought you were mine,
ivri aralo,
Oi, but now you’re starting to annoy me
And we’ve arrived in Tbilisi,
ivri aralo,
Adiloi, dilawo delavda aralo,
ivri aralo.
The Parting Glass
Gaelic traditional
arr. Ian A. Cook
Of all the money that e’er I had,
I spent it in good company.
And all the harm that e’er I’ve done,
Alas, it was to none but me.
And all I’ve done for want of wit,
To mem’ry now I can’t recall.
So fill to me the parting glass.
Good night, and joy be with you all.
If I had money enough to spend,
And leisure time to sit awhile,
There is a fair maid in this town
That sorely has my heart beguiled.
Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips,
I own she has my heart in thrall.
Then fill to me the parting glass.
Good night, and joy be with you all.
So fill to me the parting glass,
And drink a health whate’er befall,
And gently rise and softly call:
“Good night, and joy be with you all.”
Of all the comrades that e’er I had,
They’re sorry for my going away.
And all the sweethearts that e’er I had,
They’d wish me one more day to stay.
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not,
I gently rise and softly call:
“Good night, and joy be with you all.”
Crabbuckit
k-os, as sung by Good Lovelies, arr. Melody Hine, ed. Ian A. Cook
Took a trip on a bus that I didn’t know,
Met a girl sellin’ drinks at the disco,
Said truth comes back when you let it go,
Seems complicated ’cause it’s really so simple.
Walkin’ down Yonge Street on a Friday,
Can’t follow them, gotta do it my way.
No fast lane, still on the highway,
Movin’ in and out, no doubt there’s a brighter day.
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
Ah, check out the crabs in the bucket.
It’s like flies on the windscreen, writing on walls,
Square these clones claim they’re havin’ a ball,
Foolin’ themselves just before last call,
Tick-a-tick-a-tock, tick-a-tick-a-tock.
Clock strikes twelve, clock strikes one,
Smokin’ gun put these fools on the run.
I know it’s not that simple,
I know it’s not that hard.
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
Ah, check out the crabs in the bucket.
It’s a conniption fit when the microphone’s lit,
I take it higher like a bird on a wire, retire the fire,
I never ’cause I’m just moving on up,
Choosin’ to touch the unseen craving the clutch.
Damn, if mirrors were created by sand,
Then I’m looking in the water for reflections of man.
Understand the minds above time when it’s empty,
Emcee Tragic’ly Hip, ahead by a Century.
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
Ah, check out the crabs in the bucket.
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
No time to get down ’cause I’m moving up,
Ah.