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Favorite "story ballads" - story telling set to music
Vanity | 2/26/2005 | HairOfTheDog

Posted on 02/26/2005 1:13:23 PM PST by HairOfTheDog

I love a good lyric… imagery in words that remind us of a great character, place or state of mind, even if we've never been there. I wanted to collect and share a few classics that I think are more than a song, they do more than make you want to sing along. They tell an engaging story. These are my favorites that I could think of… I am sure you have some too. I hope you can listen to them, because though the lyrics are good, they are cold without the environment of their music.

In no particular order…

THE WRECK OF THE EDMUND FITZGERALD
Gordon Lightfoot

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called ’Gitche Gumee’
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship’s bell rang
Could it be the north wind they’d been feelin’?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T’was the witch of November come stealin’.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin’.
When afternoon came it was freezin’ rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin’.
Fellas, it’s too rough to feed ya.
At seven p.m. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it’s been good t’know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin’ in
And the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say they’d have made whitefish bay
If they’d put fifteen more miles behind her.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
May have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams;
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below lake Ontario
Takes in what lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the maritime sailors’ cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call ’Gitche Gumee’.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!

THE GUNNER'S DREAM
Pink Floyd (Waters)

Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now.
In the space between the heavens
and in the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream.
I had a dream.
Good-bye Max.
Good-bye Ma.
After the service when you're walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold November air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream.
A place to stay
"Oi! A real one ..."
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And what's more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue kicking in your door.
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs don't blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore.
And no one kills the children anymore.

Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me insane.
In the corner of some foreign field
The gunner sleeps tonight.
What's done is done.
We cannot just write off his final scene.
Take heed of his dream.
Take heed.

THE LAST RESORT
The Eagles

She came from Providence,
The one in Rhode island
Where the old world shadows hang
Heavy in the air
She packed her hopes and dreams
Like a refugee
Just as her father came across the sea

She heard about a place people were smilin’
They spoke about the red man’s way,
And how they loved the land
And they came from everywhere
To the great divide
Seeking a place to stand
Or a place to hide

Down in the crowded bars,
Out for a good time,
Can’t wait to tell you all,
What it’s like up there
And they called it paradise
I don’t know why
Somebody laid the mountains low
While the town got high

Then the chilly winds blew down
Across the desert
Through the canyons of the coast, to
The Malibu
Where the pretty people play,
Hungry for power
To light their neon way
And give them things to do

Some rich men came and raped the land,
Nobody caught ’em
Put up a bunch of ugly boxes, and Jesus People bought ’em
And they called it paradise
The place to be
They watched the hazy sun, sinking in the sea

You can leave it all behind
And sail to Lahaina
Just like the missionaries did, so many years ago
They even brought a neon sign: ’Jesus is coming’
Brought the white man’s burden down
Brought the white man’s reign

Who will provide the grand design?
What is yours and what is mine?
’cause there is no more new frontier
We have got to make it here

We satisfy our endless needs and
Justify our bloody deeds,
In the name of destiny and the name
Of god

And you can see them there,
On Sunday morning
They stand up and sing about
What it’s like up there
They call it paradise
I don’t know why
You call someplace paradise,
Kiss it goodbye

THE DOWNEASTER ALEXA
Billy Joel

Well I’m on the Downeaster Alexa
And I’m cruising through block island sound
I have chartered a course to the vineyard
But tonight I am Nantucket bound

We took on diesel back in Montauk yesterday
And left this morning from the bell in Gardner's bay
Like all the locals here I’ve had to sell my home
Too proud to leave I worked my fingers to the bone

So I could own my Downeaster Alexa
And I go where the ocean is deep
There are giants out there in the canyons
And a good captain can’t fall asleep

I’ve got bills to pay and children who need clothes
I know there’s fish out there but where God only knows
They say these waters aren’t what they used to be
But I’ve got people back on land who count on me

So if you see my Downeaster Alexa
And if you work with the rod and the reel
Tell my wife I am trolling Atlantis
And I still have my hands on the wheel

Now I drive my Downeaster Alexa
More and more miles from shore every year
Since they told me I can’t sell no stripers
And there’s no luck in swordfishing here

I was a bayman like my father was before
Can’t make a living as a bayman anymore
There ain’t much future for a man who works the sea
But there ain’t no island left for islanders like me

ALLENTOWN
Billy Joel

Well we’re living here in Allentown
And they’re closing all the factories down
Out in Bethlehem they’re killing time
Filling out forms
Standing in line
Well our fathers fought the second world war
Spent their weekends on the jersey shore
Met our mothers in the USO
Asked them to dance
Danced with them slow
And we’re living here in Allentown
But the restlessness was handed down
And it’s getting very hard to stay
Well we’re waiting here in Allentown
For the Pennsylvania we never found
For the promises our teachers gave
If we worked hard
If we behaved
So the graduations hang on the wall
But they never really helped us at all
No they never taught us what was real
Iron and coke
And chromium steel
And we’re waiting here in Allentown
But they’ve taken all the coal from the ground
And the union people crawled away
Every child had a pretty good shot
To get at least as far as their old man got
But something happened on the way to that place
They threw an American flag in our face
Well I’m living here in Allentown
And it’s hard to keep a good man down
But I won’t be getting up today
And it’s getting very hard to stay
And we’re living here in Allentown


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To: HairOfTheDog

I think Buffet is well past 50 at this point, but yes, a great song. Thanks.


21 posted on 02/26/2005 1:42:40 PM PST by Sam Cree (Democrats are herd animals)
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To: Phsstpok
I love heroic music. Most of the best "story telling" music is also heroic.

That's true. It's gotta have a hero.

22 posted on 02/26/2005 1:43:06 PM PST by HairOfTheDog (It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life!)
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To: Sam Cree
I think Buffet is well past 50 at this point, but yes, a great song. Thanks.

He wears it like 35... We're hoping he comes out this way on tour, he's fun live.

23 posted on 02/26/2005 1:48:03 PM PST by HairOfTheDog (It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life!)
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To: HairOfTheDog
I've never heard the Sultan song...

It is, truly, The Song of Scheherazade, one whole side of the old LP, Scheherazade & Other Stories, about 24 minutes worth.

One of my favorites.

24 posted on 02/26/2005 1:48:08 PM PST by Phsstpok ("When you don't know where you are, but you don't care, you're not lost, you're exploring.")
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To: Phsstpok

Thanks for sharing it! I'll give it a listen if we can find it.


25 posted on 02/26/2005 1:49:27 PM PST by HairOfTheDog (It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life!)
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To: HairOfTheDog
Marty Robbins was a master at this.

"El Paso" ,"Big Iron" are a couple that come to mind.

but what I really want to know is..."Just who shot who, at the Copa...Copacabana..."
26 posted on 02/26/2005 1:51:21 PM PST by stylin19a (Marines - end of discussion)
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To: HairOfTheDog

My daddy's favorite:

EL PASO
Marty Robbins
- words and music by Marty Robbins

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl
Nighttime would find me in Rosa's cantina
Music would play and Felina would whirl

Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina
Wicked and evil while casting a spell
My love was deep for this Mexican maiden
I was in love, but in vain I could tell

One night a wild young cowboy came in
Wild as the West Texas wind
Dashing and daring, a drink he was sharing
With wicked Felina, the girl that I loved

So in anger I challenged his right for the love of this maiden
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore
My challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor

Just for a moment I stood there In silence
Shocked by the foul evil deed I had done
Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there
I had but one chance and that was to run

Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran
Out where the horses were tied
I caught a good one, it looked like it could run
Up on its back and away I did ride
Just as fast as I could from the West Texas town of El Paso
Out to the badlands of New Mexico

Back in El Paso my life would be worthless
Everything's gone; in life nothing is left
It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden
My love is stronger than my fear of death

I saddled up and away I did go
Riding alone in the dark
Maybe tomorrow a bullet will find me
Tonight nothing's worse than this pain in my heart
And at last here I am on the hill overlooking El Paso
I can see Rosa's Cantina below
My love is strong and it pushes me onward
Down off the hill to Felina I go

Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys
Off to my left ride a dozen or more
Shouting and shooting, I can't let them catch me
I have to make it to Rosa's back door

Something is dreadfully wrong, for I feel
A deep burning pain in my side
Though I am trying to stay in the saddle
I'm getting weary, unable to ride

But my love for Felina is strong and I rise where I've fallen
Though I am weary, I can't stop to rest
I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle
I feel the bullet go deep in my chest

From out of nowhere Felina has found me
Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side
Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for
One little kiss, then Felina good-bye


27 posted on 02/26/2005 1:51:44 PM PST by wimpycat (As God is my witness, I'll never be "outraged" again!)
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To: stylin19a

Great minds, and all that....

To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day
Hardly spoke to folks around him didn't have too much to say
No one dared to ask his business no one dared to make a slip
for the stranger there amongst them had a big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip


It was early in the morning when he rode into the town
He came riding from the south side slowly lookin' all around
He's an outlaw loose and running came the whisper from each lip
And he's here to do some business with the big iron on his hip
big iron on his hip


In this town there lived an outlaw by the name of Texas Red
Many men had tried to take him and that many men were dead
He was vicious and a killer though a youth of twenty four
And the notches on his pistol numbered one an nineteen more
One and nineteen more


Now the stranger started talking made it plain to folks around
Was an Arizona ranger wouldn't be too long in town
He came here to take an outlaw back alive or maybe dead
And he said it didn't matter he was after Texas Red
After Texas Red
Wasn't long before the story was relayed to Texas Red
But the outlaw didn't worry men that tried before were dead
Twenty men had tried to take twenty men had made a slip
Twenty one would be the ranger with the big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip


The morning passed so quickly it was time for them to meet
It was twenty past eleven when they walked out in the street
Folks were watching from their windows every-body held their breath
They knew this handsome ranger was about to meet his death
About to meet his death


There was forty feet between them when they stopped to make their
play
And the swiftness of the ranger is still talked about to-day
Texas Red had not cleared leather when a bullet fairly ripped
And the rangers aim was deadly with the big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip


It was over in a moment and the folks had gathered round
There before them lay the body of the outlaw on the ground
Oh he might have gone on living but he made one fatal slip
When he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip
Big iron on his hip


Big iron Big iron
When he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip


28 posted on 02/26/2005 1:54:14 PM PST by wimpycat (As God is my witness, I'll never be "outraged" again!)
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To: stylin19a
but what I really want to know is..."Just who shot who, at the Copa...Copacabana..."

A mystery... Another big mystery of my youth: What did Paul Simon and Julio actually ~do~ 'down at the schoolyard'?

29 posted on 02/26/2005 1:55:18 PM PST by HairOfTheDog (It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life!)
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To: wimpycat

Lordy, I love that song...*sniff*


30 posted on 02/26/2005 1:56:49 PM PST by RosieCotton (A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it. - GK Chesterton)
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To: wimpycat

That's a great one.

All these songs have at least one line that sends a shiver down ya.


31 posted on 02/26/2005 1:57:11 PM PST by HairOfTheDog (It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life!)
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To: HairOfTheDog

Looking at your about page I think you will enjoy their stuff. Annie Haslam is still working and some of her new stuff is interesting, but not as overwhelming, at least for me.

I hope you do enjoy it.


32 posted on 02/26/2005 1:57:37 PM PST by Phsstpok ("When you don't know where you are, but you don't care, you're not lost, you're exploring.")
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To: RosieCotton

I know what you mean. Marty Robbins is one of my favorites, and "El Paso" is my favorite song of his.

Now here's some REAL ballad singing. The good ol' days were full of sex, violence, betrayal, a killin' and a drinkin'...sort of like today's TV and movies:

Silver Dagger

Don't sing love songs, you'll wake my mother
She's sleeping here right by my side
And in her right hand a silver dagger,
She says that I can't be your bride.

All men are false, says my mother,
They'll tell you wicked, lovin' lies.
The very next evening, they'll court another,
Leave you alone to pine and sigh.

My daddy is a handsome devil
He's got a chain five miles long,
And on every link a heart does dangle
Of another maid he's loved and wronged.

Go court another tender maiden,
And hope that she will be your wife,
For I've been warned, and I've decided
To sleep alone all of my life.


Matty Groves


A holiday, a holiday,
the first one of the year
Lord Arnold's wife came into the church,
the gospel for to hear

And when the meeting it was done,
she cast her eyes about
and there she saw little Matty Groves
Walking in the crowd

"Come home with me, little Matty Groves
Come home with me tonight
Come home with me, little Matty Groves
And sleep with me till light ! "

"Oh I can't come home and I won't go home
and sleep with you tonight
By the rings on your fingers I can see
that you are my master's wife."

And what if I am Lord Arnold's wife
For he is not at home
He is out in the far cornfields
Bringing the yearlings home

So little Matty Groves, he lay down
and took a little sleep
When he awoke Lord Arnold
He was standing by his feet

Saying, "How do you like my feather bed
and how do you like my sheets ?
How do you like my lady wife
who lies in your arms asleep ?"

Oh well, I like your feather bed
better I like your sheets
Best of all I like your lady gay
who lies in my arms asleep

"Get up. get up", Lord Arnold cried,
Get up as quick as you can
Let it never be said in fair England
that I slew a naked man"

"Oh I won't get up, and I won't get up
I can't get up for my life
For you have two long beaten swords
And I not a pocket knife"

"Well it's true I have two beaten swords
and they cost me deep in the purse
But you will have the better of them
and I will have the worse"

So Matty struck the very first blow
and he hurt Lord Arnold sore
Lord Arnold struck the very next blow
and Matty struck the floor

And then he took his own dear wife
and sat her down on his knee
saying, "who do you like the best of us now
Your Matty Groves or me ?"

And then spoke up his own dear wife
never heard her speak so free
"I'd rather a kiss from dead Matty's lips
than you or your finery"

And then Lord Arnold he jumped up
and loudly did he bawl
He struck his wife right through the heart
and he pinned her up to the wall

"Oh, a grave, a grave", Lord Arnold cried
to put these lovers in
Won't you bury my lady at the top
for she was a noble kin.

"Copper Kettle"

Get you a copper kettle, get you a copper coil
Fill it with new made corn mash and never more you'll toil
You'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright
Watch them just a-filling in the pale moonlight.

Build you a fire with hickory, hickory, ash and oak
Don't use no green or rotten wood, they'll get you by the smoke
You'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright
Watch them just a-filling in the pale moonlight.

My daddy he made whiskey, my granddaddy he did too
We ain't paid no whiskey tax since 1792
You'll just lay there by the juniper while the moon is bright
Watch them just a-filling in the pale moonlight.


33 posted on 02/26/2005 2:04:53 PM PST by wimpycat (As God is my witness, I'll never be "outraged" again!)
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To: HairOfTheDog
MIDI - FAITHFULLY

From a town...small town in Iowa
Came a hero whom you ought to know
Brad Kasal would protect his men
To the end he was prepared to go

Fallujah had been a living hell as they fought for their lives
Then, oh my God, he saw that grenade
He used his own body to protect his wounded comrade
He wouldn't let him die
Sacred words for you, Brad...Semper Fi

We are blessed to have such fine young men
Men who sacrifice so willingly
They stand up proud...it's their duty, they say
Heroes for all our kids to see

He now lives in constant pain but says there's no regrets
He says that he would do it all again
This is the measure of a real Marine
He wouldn't let him die
Sacred words for you, Brad...Semper Fi

Sacred words for you, sacred words for you, sacred words for you
Sacred words...Semper Fi

Sacred words for you, sacred words for you, sacred words for you
Sacred words...Semper Fi

Sacred words for you, sacred words for you, sacred words for you
Sacred words...Semper Fi

(fade out)

34 posted on 02/26/2005 2:05:41 PM PST by doug from upland (Ray Charles --- a great musician and safer driver than Ted Kennedy)
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To: HairOfTheDog
Well, since you asked so nicely, there is

Charlie On the MTA

Let me tell you the story
Of a man named Charlie
On a tragic and fateful day
He put ten cents in his pocket,
Kissed his wife and family
Went to ride on the MTA Charlie handed in his dime
At the Kendall Square Station
And he changed for Jamaica Plain
When he got there the conductor told him,
"One more nickel."
Charlie could not get off that train.

Chorus:
                        Did he ever return,
                        No he never returned
                        And his fate is still unlearn'd
                        He may ride forever
                        'neath the streets of Boston
                        He's the man who never returned.

Now all night long
Charlie rides through the tunnels
                                 the station
Saying, "What will become of me?
Crying How can I afford to see
My sister in Chelsea
Or my cousin in Roxbury?"

Charlie's wife goes down
To the Scollay Square station
Every day at quarter past two
And through the open window
She hands Charlie a sandwich
As the train comes rumblin' through.

As his train rolled on
underneath Greater Boston
Charlie looked around and sighed:
"Well, I'm sore and disgusted
And I'm absolutely busted;
I guess this is my last long ride."

Now you citizens of Boston,
Don't you think it's a scandal
That the people have to pay and pay
Vote for Walter A. O'Brien
Fight the fare increase!
And fight the fare increase
Vote for George O'Brien!
Get poor Charlie off the MTA.

Chorus: Or else he'll never return, No he'll never return
And his fate will be unlearned
He may ride forever
'neath the streets of Boston
He's the man (Who's the man)
He's the man who never returned.
He's the man (Oh, the man)
He's the man who never returned.
He's the man who never returned.

And then as an Auburn fan, my all-time favorite is
The Birmingham Bear Chase.

'Twas on November 29th
Ole Jordan blew his horn,
He loaded up his gun for Bear
And he left that Saturday morn
He called upon his boys in blue, the finest in the land
And on that day the made their way
To the town of Birmingham.

Birmingham, Birmingham
War damn Eagle, damn,
When we get there, we're gonna chase that Bear
All over Birmingham.

35 posted on 02/26/2005 2:06:59 PM PST by Jemian
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To: Jemian

Great one!

I grew up with the Kingston Trio.... My dad had their album, and "The Brothers Four" who were very similar


36 posted on 02/26/2005 2:10:23 PM PST by HairOfTheDog (It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life!)
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To: HairOfTheDog
Another of my favorites is
The Fox Went Out On a Chilly Night. I just don't want to go through the trouble of formatting it. I love ballads. They are so rich.
37 posted on 02/26/2005 2:16:27 PM PST by Jemian
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To: wimpycat

Couple more I like...disaster and murder ballads fascinate me and tear me up at the same time.

Rye Cove Cyclone
(A.P. Carter)

Oh listen today and a story I'll tell,
In sadness and tear rimmed eyes,
Of a dreadful cyclone that came this way,
And blew our schoolhouse away.

cho: Rye Cove (Rye Cove), Rye Cove (Rye Cove),
The land of my childhood and home,
Where life's early morn I once loved to roam,
But now it's so silent and lone.

When the cyclone appeared it darkened the air,
And the lightning flashed over the sky,
And the children all cried, don't take us away,
But spare us to go back home.

There were mothers so dear and fathers the same,
That came to this terrible scene,
Searching and crying each found their own child,
Dying on a pillow of stone.

Oh give us a home far beyond the blue sky,
Where storms and cyclones are unknown,
And there by life's strand we'll clasp the glad hand,
Our children in their heavenly home.

Omie Wise

Oh, listen to my story, I'll tell you no lies,
How John Lewis did murder poor little Omie Wise.

He told her to meet him at Adams's Springs.
He promised her money and other fine things.

So, fool-like she met him at Adams's Springs.
No money he brought her nor other fine things.

"Go with me, little Omie, and away we will go.
We'll go and get married and no one will know."

She climbed up behind him and away they did go,
But off to the river where deep waters flow.

"John Lewis, John Lewis, will you tell me your mind?
Do you intend to marry me or leave me behind?"

"Little Omie, little Omie, I'll tell you my mind.
My mind is to drown you and leave you behind."

"Have mercy on my baby and spare me my life,
I'll go home as a beggar and never be your wife."

He kissed her and hugged her and turned her around,
Then pushed her in deep waters where he knew that she would drown.

He got on his pony and away he did ride,
As the screams of little Omie went down by his side.

T'was on a Thursday morning, the rain was pouring down,
When the people searched for Omie but she could not be found.

Two boys went a-fishin' one fine summer day,
And saw little Omie's body go floating away.

They threw their net around her and drew her to the bank.
Her clothes all wet and muddy, they laid her on a plank.

Then sent for John Lewis to come to that place --
And brought her out before him so that he might see her face.

He made no confession but they carried him to jail,
No friends or relations would go on his bail.

Oh, and a happy one, more or less! Hair, you might like this one. Horse related. ;-)

Tennessee Stud

Along about eighteen twenty-five,
I left Tennessee very much alive.
I never would have got through the Arkansas mud
If I hadn't been a-ridin' on the Tennessee Stud.
I had some trouble with my sweetheart's pa,
And one of her brothers was a bad outlaw.
I sent her a letter by my Uncle Bud,
And I rode away on the Tennessee Stud.

The Tennessee Stud was long and lean,
The color of the sun, and his eyes were green.
He had the nerve and he had the blood,
And there never was a horse like the Tennessee Stud.
One day I was riding in a beautiful land
I run smack into an Indian band
They jumped their nags with a whoop and a yell
And away we rode like a bat out of hell.
I circled their camp for a time or two,
Just to show what a Tennessee horse can do.
The redskin boys couldn't get my blood,
'Cause I was a-riding on the Tennessee Stud.

We drifted on down into no man's land,
We crossed that river called the Rio Grande.
I raced my horse with the Spaniard's foal
'Til I got me a skin full of silver and gold.

Me and a gambler, we couldn't agree,
We got in a fight over Tennessee.
We jerked our guns, and he fell with a thud,
And I got away on the Tennessee Stud.

I got just as lonesome as a man can be,
Dreamin' of my girl in Tennessee.
The Tennessee Stud's green eyes turned blue
'Cause he was a-dreamin' of a sweetheart, too,

We loped right back across Arkansas;
I whupped her brother and I whupped her pa.
I found that girl with the golden hair,
And she was a-riding on the Tennessee Mare.

Stirrup to stirrup and side by side,
We crossed the mountains and the valleys wide.
We came to Big Muddy, then we forded the flood
On the Tennessee Mare and the Tennessee Stud.

A pretty little baby on the cabin floor,
A little horse colt playing 'round the door,
I love that girl with the golden hair,
And the Tennessee Stud loves the Tennessee Mare.


38 posted on 02/26/2005 2:20:10 PM PST by RosieCotton (A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it. - GK Chesterton)
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To: Jemian; HairOfTheDog

Heh...and several other songs to the same tune are great ballads!

The Ship That Never Returned
1. On a summer's day,
When the wave was rippled
By the softest gentlest breeze,
Did a ship set sail
With a cargo laden
For a port beyond the seas.
There were sweet farewells
There were loving signals
While a form was yet discerned;
Though they knew it not,
'twas a solemn parting
For the ship, she never returned.

Chorus:
Did she never return?
She never returned,
Her fate, it is yet unlearned,
Though for years and years
There were fond ones watching,
Yet the ship she never returned.

2. Said a feeble lad
To his anxious mother,
" I must cross the wide, wide sea,
For they say, perchance
In a foreign climate,
There is health and strength for me."
'Twas a gleam of hope
In a maze of danger
And her heart for her youngest yearned,
Yet she sent him forth
With a smile and blessing
On the ship that never returned.
Chorus:

3. "Only one more trip",
Said a gallant seaman,
As he kissed his weeping wife,
Only one more purse
Of that golden treasure
And 'twill last us all through life.
Then I'll spend my days
In my cozy cottage
And enjoy the rest I've earned;
But alas! poor man!
For he sail'd commander
Of the ship that never returned.
Chorus:

The Wreck of the Old '97
Well they gave him his orders at Monroe, Virginia,
Said: "Steve, you're way behind time,
"This is not 38, this is Ol' 97,
"Put her into Spencer on time."

Then he turned around and said to his black, greasy fireman,
"Shovel on a little more coal.
"And when we cross that White Oak mountain,
"Watch Ol' '97 roll."

And then a telegram come from Washington station,
This is how it read:
"Oh that brave engineer that run ol 97,
"Is lyin in old Danville dead."

'Cos he was going down a grade making 90 miles an hour,
The whistle broke into a scream.
He was found in the wreck with his hand on the throttle,
Scalded to death by the steam.

Oh, now all you ladies you'd better take a warning,
From this time on and learn.
Never speak hard words to your true-lovin' husband.
He may leave you and never return.


39 posted on 02/26/2005 2:27:17 PM PST by RosieCotton (A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it. - GK Chesterton)
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To: RosieCotton

*sniff!*


40 posted on 02/26/2005 2:27:29 PM PST by wimpycat (As God is my witness, I'll never be "outraged" again!)
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