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Bellowhead
Bellowhead


Background information
Genre(s) Folk
Years active 2004—present
Associated acts Spiers and Boden
Website Website
Members
John Spiers
Jon Boden
Benji Kirkpatrick
Paul Sartin
Rachael McShane
Ed Neuhauser
Pete Flood
Andy Mellon
Brendan Kelly
Justin Thurgur
Sam Sweeney
Former members
Giles Lewin
Gideon Juckes



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  B  →  Bellowhead  →  Albums  →  Hedonism

Bellowhead Album


Hedonism (10/04/2010)
10/04/2010
1.
2.
3.
Cross-Eyed and Chinless
4.
5.
6.
7.
Amsterdam (Jacques Brel cover)
8.
9.
Parson's Farewell
10.
11.
*
Two Magicians (iTunes exclusive bonus track)
. . .


As I walked down to New York town, a fair maid I did meet
She asked me back to see her place; she lived on Barrack Street

And away, Santy, my dear Annie
Oh you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?

And when we got to Barrack Street, we stopped at forty-four
Her mother and her sister were waiting at the door

And away, Santy, my dear Annie
Oh you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?

Instrumental

And when I got inside the house, the drinks were passed around
The liquor was so awful strong, my head went round and round
And then we had another drink before we sat to eat
The liquor was so awful strong, I quickly fell asleep

And away, Santy, my dear Annie
Oh you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?

When I awoke next morning, I had an aching head
And there was I Jack all alone, stark naked in me bed
My gold watch and my money and my lady friend were gone
And there was I Jack all alone, stark naked in the room

And away, Santy, my dear Annie
Oh you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?

Instrumental

Oh looking round that little room, there's nothing I could see
But a woman's shift and apron that were no use to me
With a barrel for a suit of clothes, down Cherry Street forlorn
Where Martin Churchill took me in and he sent me round Cape Horn

So sailor lads, take warning when you land on New York shore
You'll have to get up early to be smarter than a whore

And away, Santy, my dear Annie
Oh you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?

And away, Santy, my dear Annie
Oh you New York girls, can't you dance the polka?

. . .


Of all the trades in England, the begging is the best
For when a beggar's tired, he can lay him down to rest

And a-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go

I've a pocket for my oatmeal and another for my salt
And with my leg and crutches you should see how I can bolt

And a-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go

There's patches on my coat, and on my right eye too
When it comes to pretty girls, I can see as well as you

And a-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go
A-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go

Instrumental

My trousers are all ragged, and my heart is free from care
If I can eat and drink, m' boys, my backside can go bare

And a-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go
A-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go

There's a bed for me in any town, and I've no rent to pay
There's many a right and willing lass I've bedded in the hay

And a-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go
A-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go

I've got no tax to pay, and I heed no master's bell
Who would be a king when a beggar does so well?

And a-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go
A-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go

Instrumental

Of all the trades in England, the begging is the best
For when a beggar's tired, he can lay him down to rest

And a-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go
A-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go
A-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go
A-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go
And a-begging I will go, and a-begging I will go

. . .

Cross-Eyed and Chinless

[No lyrics]

. . .


A wager, a wager, five hundred pound and ten
That you'll not go to the Broomfield Hill and a maid return again
And oh she cried, and oh she sighed, and oh she made her moan
Saying "shall I go to the Broomfield Hill or shall I stay at home?
"For if I go to the Broomfield Hill, my maidenhead is gone
"But if I chance to stay at home, why then I am foresworn."

There's thirteen months all in one year, as I've heard people say
But the finest month in all the year is the merry, merry month of May

And up there spoke an old witch-woman, as she sits all alone
Saying, "You shall go to the Broomfield hill and a maid you shall return
"For when you get to the Broomfield Hill, you will find your lover asleep
"With his silken gown all under his head and a broom-cow at his feet
"You take the blossom from off of the broom, the blossom that smells so sweet
"And you lay it down all under his head and more at the soles of his feet"

There's thirteen months all in one year, as I've heard people say
But the finest month in all the year is the merry, merry month of May

Instrumental

And when she got to the Broomfield Hill, she found her lover asleep
With his hawk and his hound and his silk satin gown and his ribbons all down to his feet
She's taken the blossom from off of the broom, the blossom that smells so sweet
And the more she lay it round about, the sounder he did sleep
She's taken the ribbon from off her finger and laid it at his right hand
For to let him know when he awoke that she'd been there at his command

There's thirteen months all in one year, as I've heard people say
But the finest month in all the year is the merry, merry month of May

"Oh where were you my good grey steed, that I have loved so dear?
"Why did you not stamp and waken me when there was a maiden here?"
"Oh I stamped with my feet, master, and all my bells I rang
"But there was nothing could waken you til she had been and gone"
"Oh haste, haste, my good grey steed, for to come where she may be
"Or all the birds in the Broomfield Hill will eat their fill of thee."
"Oh you need not break your good grey steed by racing to her home
"There's no bird flies faster through the wood than she flew through the broom"

Instrumental

There's thirteen months all in one year, as I've heard people say
But the finest month in all the year is the merry, merry month of May

. . .


I am a hand weaver, to my trade
I fell in love with a factory maid
And if I could her favour gain
I'd sit beside her and weave by steam
My father to me scornful said
"How could you fancy a factory maid?
"When you could have girls both fine and gay
"All dressed like unto the Queen of May?"

As for your fine girls, I do not care
If I could but enjoy my dear
I'd sit in the factory all the day
And she and I'd keep our shuttles in play
I went to my lover's window last night
She says the moon was shining bright
And such a light came from her clothes
Like the morning star when it first arose

I went to my love's bedroom door
Where I had been oft times before
But I could not speak nor yet get in
To the pleasant bed where my love lay in
The pleasant bed where my love lay in
The pleasant bed where my love lay in

How can you say call it a pleasant bed
When naught lies there but a factory maid?
A factory maid although she be
Blessed be the man who enjoys she
Pleasant thoughts ran in my mind
As I turned down her sheets so fine
And see her two breasts standing so
Like two white hills all covered in snow

I turned down the milk-white sheet
To view her body, so fair and neat
And underneath I did espy
Two pillars of the finest ivory
Beneath those pillars a fountain lay
Which my poor wand'ring eye betrayed
But of all the fountains e'er to be found
I could have wished myself there drowned

Instrumental

The loom goes click, and the loom goes clack
the shuttle flies forward and then flies back
The weaver's so bent that he's like to crack
Where are the girls? I'll tell you plain
The girls have all gone to weave by steam
And if you would find them, you must rise at dawn
And trudge to the mill in the early morn.

. . .


The Earl of Rosslyn's daughter walked through the woods alone
When by came Captain Wedderburn, a servant of the king
He said unto his servant-man, "Were it not against the law
"I'd take her into my own bed, and lie her next to the wall"

So he jumped off his milk-white steed, and he set the lady on
And all the way he walked on foot, and he held her by the hand
He held her by the middle of the waist, for fear that she could fall
Before they'd lie in one bed, and she'd lie next to the wall

Instrumental

"But," said the pretty lady, "before you me perplex
"It's you must answer questions yet, and that is questions six
"It's questions six you must tell me, and that is three times twa
"Before I'll lie in your bed at either stock or wall"

"Oh what is greener than the grass? What is higher than the trees?
"Oh what is worse than woman's voice? What is deeper than the seas?
"What was the first bird that did crow? And what did first down fall?
"Before I'll lie in your bed at either stock or wall"

"Oh envy's greener than the grass, and is higher than the trees
"The devil is worse than woman's voice, hell is deeper than the seas.
"The cock is the first bird that did crow, and the dew did first down fall
"So we'll both lie in one bed, and you'll lie next to the wall"

Instrumental

Oh little did that lady think that morning when she rose
That this would be the very last of all her maiden days
And in the cottage where they lived, they're the happiest pair of all
And they both lie in one bed, and she lies next to the wall

. . .


In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who sings
Of the dreams that he brings from the wide open sea
In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who sleeps
While the river-bank weeps to the old willow tree

In the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who dies
Full of beer, full of cries, in a drunken down fight
But in the port of Amsterdam, there's a sailor who's born
On a muggy hot morn, by the dawn's early light

In the port of Amsterdam, where the sailors all meet
There's a sailor who eats only fish-heads and -tails
And he'll show you his teeth that have rotted too soon
That can drink down the moon, that can haul up the sails

And he turns to the cook, with his arms open wide
"Bring me more fish, put it down by my side"
And he wants so to belch, but he's too full to try
So he gets up and he laughs, and he zips up his fly

In the port of Amsterdam, you can see sailors dance
Paunches bursting their pants, grinding women to paunch
They've forgotten the tune that their whiskey-voice croaks
Splitting the night with the roar of their jokes

And they turn and they dance and they laugh and they lust
Til the rancid sound of the accordion bursts
And it's into the night with their pride in their pants
And the slut that they tow underneath the streetlamps

In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who drinks
And he drinks, and he drinks, and he drinks once again
He drinks to the health of the whores of Amsterdam
Who have promised their love to a thousand other men

They have bargained their bodies, their virtues all gone
For a few dirty coins, and when he can't go on
He puts his nose in the air, and he wipes it up above
And he pisses like I cry for an unfaithful love

In the port of Amsterdam, in the port of Amsterdam
In the port of Amsterdam

. . .


Cold blows the wind of my true love
Cold blow the drops of rain
I never had but one true love
And in Greenwood he lies slain

I'll do as much for my true love
As any young girl may
I'll sit and weep down by his grave
For twelve months and a day

But when twelve months they were up and gone
This young man, he arose
What makes you sit by my grave and weep?
I can't take my repose

Instrumental

One kiss, one kiss from your lily-white lips
One kiss is all I crave
One kiss, one kiss from your lily-white lips
Then return back to your grave

These lips, they are as cold as clay
My breath is heavy and strong
If you were to kiss these lily-white lips
Your life would not be long

Oh don't you remember the garden grove
Where once we used to walk
Go pick the finest flower of the morn
It will wither to a stalk

Instrumental

Go fetch me a flower from the dungeon deep
Bring water from a stone
Bring white milk from a virgin's breast
That baby never bore none

Go dig me a grave both wide and deep
Do it as quick as you may
That I may lay down and take a long sleep
For twelve months and a day

. . .

Parson's Farewell

[No lyrics]

. . .


Little Sally Racket
Haul her away!
She pawned my best jacket
Haul her away!
And she lost the ticket
Haul her away!

Little Daisy Dawson
Haul her away!
She's got flannel drawers on
Haul her away!
So says our old Bosun
Haul her away!
To me haul-e-high-low
Haul her away!

Instrumental

Little Suzie Skinner
Haul her away!
Says she's a beginner
Haul her away!
But prefers it to her dinner
Haul her away!

Little Flo Fanana
Haul her away!
Slipped on a banana
Haul her away!
But she can't play the pianer
Haul her away!
To me haul-e-high-low
Haul her away!

Instrumental

[a capella]

Little Kitty Carson
Ran off with a parson
Now she has a little barson
To me haul-e-high-low
Haul her away

Little Nancy Tucket
Washes in a bucket
She's a whore but she don't look it
To me haul-e-high-low
[end of a cappella]
Haul her away

Little Rosie Riddle
Haul her away!
Broke her brand-new fiddle
Haul her away!
Got a hole right down the middle
Haul her away!

Up my fighting cocks now
Haul her away!
Up and split her blocks now
Haul her away!
Up and stretch her luff now
Haul her away!
That'll be enough now
To me haul-e-high-low
Haul her away!

Instrumental

To me haul-e-high-low!
Haul her away!

. . .


In Yarmouth town, there lived a man
Who kept a tavern by the sand
This landlord had a daughter fair
A plump little thing with the golden hair

Oh won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

Well to this tavern came a sailor man
He asked the daughter for her hand
Why should I marry you? she said
I get all I want without being wed

Oh won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

But she says if you want with me to linger
I'll tie a string all around my finger
You come by and you pull on the string
I'll come down and I'll let you in

Oh won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

Well the very next night that sailor man
He went to the tavern by the sand
He went by, and he pulled on the string,
She came down and she let him in

Oh won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

Well he'd never seen such a sight before
For the string around her finger was all she wore
And when he went and he pulled on the string
She pulled back the blankets and let Jack in

Oh won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

Instrumental

And there he spent the whole night through
And early in the morning went back to his crew
Told them all about that maiden there
The plump little thing with the golden hair

Oh won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

And the word it soon got round
And the very next night in Yarmouth town
There were fifteen sailors pulling on the string
She came down and she let them all in

And won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

Instrumental

So come all you young sailors who down to Yarmouth do go
To see a plump little thing with her hair hanging low
Well all you've got to do is pull on the string
She'll come down and she'll let you in

Oh won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

Instrumental

Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?
Won't you come down, won't you come down,
Won't you come down to Yarmouth town?

. . .

Two Magicians

[No lyrics]

. . .


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