|
1. |
|
|
|
|
I am a poor stranger
From America I came
No one does know me or can tell me my name
I am a poor stranger
I’ll tarry a while
I been searching for my darling
Many a long mile
Some say I am reckless
Some say I am wild
Some say I am guilty
Fair maids to beguile
But I will make you all liars
And I will take you to America
Take you to America
I am a poor stranger
My ship’s fit to sea
I ramble for my darling
And a lost and wild country
And I am crying for America
Crying for America
|
|
2. |
|
|
|
|
Blown Away
It was a Monday night, the moon was shining brght,
The winds had been a-blowin' all the day.
We were sittin' in a ring' an Lor', how we did sing
I reckon you'd ha' heard us cross the bay,
Lord, sung o- black-eyed Sue, who was so fond-an' true,
When-we hears a sort o' squlastin in the sea.
An a mermaid then we spied, scramblin up the starboard
side,
An' she tumbled on the deck in front o we.
the tears were on her cheek, she sobb'd an' couldnt,speak,
She show-d us her scaly tail was torn an scored
She clutch-d us one and all, an' she trembled like to fall
Then our cap n he upstood, so,noble, proud an good
An' the poor creature was at his knee
Ev'ry man is tree, be cries. where our colours fly
I put my arms about her waist,
Her fears began now to subside,
I was about to kiss her ruby lips
When a surging
r wave dragged my bride to the rolling tide
Blown away
She was blown away from me
Blown away, I was blown away
All these nights
I have wept through watery eyes
I have gazed at the stars above
As I dream of you
Storms may rage
Remember me
We will live again my dear
At the bottom of the deep
|
|
3. |
|
|
|
|
Call Me Back
Ring ring
Call me back again;
Call me back once more;
So when your heart conquers pride and
Besides,
You’ll call me back again.
Say good-bye the parting words
Just Leave me now
Maybe it’s better so
Far across the seas I go
It can only be from love
Hey ho
Is my heart is broken?
Just say that it’s not so
Sometimes the hopes have been in vain
The pride the pain
When your heart resides with me
I know that you will call again
I love you still,
Forever
I know you’ll call
You’re gonna call me back again
I dream’t last night
Out of sight
I dream’t
I dream’t last night
But I can’t recall
When you left
Kerpow!
The birds in the sky
So high
Could see me eyes downcast
Still dwelling on the past
In my heart love’s no stranger
In my heart
No danger
|
|
4. |
|
|
|
|
Primroses
As I walked out there
Through the summer air
The primrose smell
Made me hear John Clare
Then she passed me by
As the sun sank west
Oh my
The dewdrops pearl
The evening’s breast
I could hear John Clare
In the Essex air
Will thou go with me
Through the depths of shade
Just lose the way
And forget the day
I seek quiet joys
Far from busy crowds
The primrose choice
So sweet a face
In a dwelling place
With your silent voice
Stand off
Stand off
You deceitful man
It’s what caused my poor heart to wander
Give me comfort, it’s all in vain
I’ll go along
In some lonesome valley
No man on Earth shall e’er me find
Where pretty birds change their tunes
At every moment blow boisterous winds
The thought of love so sudden so sweet
Two hearts together complete
Down by the banks of sweet primroses,
As she passed me by
By the banks of sweet primroses
I could hear
John Clare
|
|
5. |
|
|
|
|
Brannan
The first of my misfortunes was to list & desert
The way for to rob I soon found an art,
Over hedges and ditches when I took my way,
And I went a roving by night and by day.
Brannan on the moor,
Brannan on the moor,
Bold and undaunted stood
Brannan on the moor.
As I was riding over yon mountain side,
A coach and six horses bold I chanced
to spy,
With my blunderbush all into my hand,
I made the Guard’s and Horses for to stand
Many a steep mountainside I rode
Many a night on the open road
Bold Brannan, &c.
As I was a riding over yon mountain side
A coach and four horses, I chanced to
spy.
I robbed from the rich, and gave it to the poor
I’m over yon mountains, you'll ne'er see me no more more.
Bold Brannan, &c.
Do you see yon crowds a coming,
Or do you see you constables running,
Or do you see yon high gallows tree,
To hang bold me for my highway robbery
Bold Brannan, &c.
O send for my wife and children three,
My poor aged mother I never will see,
My poor aged father with his grey locks he cried
I
wish that my Bold Brannan in his cradle had
died.
Bold Brannan, &c.
Many a fair maid for Brannan will cry,
And many a fair lady for Brannan will sigh,
But all their sighs will not save me,
Nor keep me from yon high gallows tree.
Bold Brannan, &c.
|
|
6. |
|
|
|
|
I arrived last evening about five o'clock, in this town, and strolling round the church-yard, I was attracted within the walls of the church by the appearance of a corpse, followed by an immense number of mourners of both sexes, who were paying their last respect to a deceased friend. While the funeral service was reading over the body, a noise was heard to proceed from the coffin, which for a moment arrested the clergyman and his auditors; but as the noise appeared to cease, the service was concluded, each individual being persuaded it must have proceeded from quite a different source than the coffin. Just, however, as the coffin was being led down into the tomb, the same sound as before issued from it, accompanied with a noise similar to the whelping of a puppy, when, in an instant, the enclosed person, by a sudden and violent effort, thrust off the lid of the coffin, with her arms hanging on each side, with eyes wide open and rolling in their sockets; at the frightened multitude assembled round, who fled in every direction, and could hardly be persuaded to return and relieve her from her cold and gloomy apartment. They, however, resumed their fortitude, and returned and helped her out of the grave. ? When brought above ground, she appeared more frightened than hurt, and was borne back to her habitation on the very same bier which supported her to the ground. ? I understand, from the surgeon who attended her, and whom I have seen this morning, that she has had a very good night, and is likely finally to recover. ? She is a widow, and had she "slumbered in the arms of Death", would have left 10 children wholly unprovided for. ? British Traveller.
|
|
7. |
|
|
|
|
Nothing Can Unsay
Your voice is near me in my dreams,
In accents sweet and low,
With tails of happiness and love,
In days long, long ago.
Word after word I think I hear,
Yet strange it seems to me,
That though I listen to your voice,
Your face I never see.
face I never see,
Your face I never see,
That though I listen to your voice,
That face I never see.
From night to night my weary heart
Lives on the treasur'd past,
And ev'ry day I fondly say,
You'll come to me at last.
But still I weep, I watch and pray,
As time runs slowly on,
And yet I have no hope of you,
The first, the dearest one.
The first, the sweetest one,
The first, the nearest one,
What I have said, I have said
and nothing can unsay
|
Broadside Ballads Reconfigured is a Creative Scotland-supported project that creates new works of popular song based on the National Library of Scotland online archive. Broadside ballads are a form of popular music and entertainment that dates back to the 16th century. These ballads were typically printed on a single sheet of paper. They were sold in public places like market squares, fairs, and outside theatres. Broadside ballads were one of the earliest forms of mass media, providing news, stories, and entertainment to the general public.
The ballads reflect the sentiments, values, and concerns of the people during different periods in history, making them a valuable source for understanding the past. The musical and poetic qualities of broadside ballads continue to captivate those who encounter them. This early public flyer art documented personal stories ranging from the last words of executed men, to the ecstatic paens of lovers and the dreams of adventurers.
These vital historical texts captured the imagination of Andy Alston (Del Amitri) and James Kirk (Orange Juice), the production team known as Alston/Kirk Overdrive - joined by American-Scottish producer/singer-songwriter Marilyn Carino (Mudville, DJ Scratch n Sniff), who spent a year developing these historical gems into songs, performed by themselves and a diverse mix of singers and musicians.
This eclectic collection of catchy and surprisingly moving songs reveals that the emotions and life events that inspire people to create poetry and song remain unchanged over the centuries, and relevant to all genres and musical styles.
released October 12, 2023
Songs written by Andy Alston and Marilyn Carino. Recorded by Andy Alston and Marilyn Carino. Guitar James Kirk. Recorded at Alston Towers and Carino Sounds. Artwork Andy Alston © 2023