Miscellaneous Live Tracks

by Emily Groff

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Up high upon a lonely moor a widow lived alone In an inn she kept and while she slept the pillows heard her moan For many's the time a traveler has spent the night with me But there's not a man in all creation gives content to me For some can manage once or twice some make three or four What seems to be a rarity is the man who can do more I'd give anything to find him in heaven or in hell And while the words were spoken then she heard the front door bell Chorus: And the wind blew cold and lonely all across that widow's moor And she never ever turned away a traveler from her door Then boldly the widow she went downstairs and the door she opened wide And as she did a tall and handsome stranger stepped inside She gave him bread and brandy and after he was fed He said My dear, well have no fear it's time to go to bed For I heard you call way down below and I've come to see you right But you must come to hell with me if I can last the night She said You randy devil! to this bargain I'm agreed For hell on earth or hell in hell it's all the same to me Chorus Then the devil and the widow they jumped in bed and the devil was working well And he thought before this night was through she'd be his in hell But when they got to number nine the widow cried Encore! And when the twelfth time came around she still called out for more At twenty-five the devil thought he had to take a rest But the widow still said Come raise yer head and put me to the test At sixty-nine the widow laughed again, again she cried And the devil declared Well I can see just how your husband died Chorus At niney-nine the devil he began to cry and weep Oh I will give you anything just let me go to sleep Before the morning light was on the devil hobbled home And the widow still unsatisfied once more was left alone She lay there and she grumbled and she thought of niney-nine If only that old devil could have made it one more time I'll call him up again tonight and see what can be done With a bit of application we could make it to the ton Chorus But when she called him up that night no devil he did appear For the first time in eternity the old devil he shook with fear Of all the pain and torment I've witnessed here in hell I never knew what pain was 'till I rang your front doorbell Chorus
La Llorona 05:34
Dos besos llevo en la frente, Llorona, Que no se apartan de mí. El último de mi madre, Llorona, Y el primero que te di. Ay de mí, Llorona Llorona de azul celeste Aunque la vida me cueste, Llorona No dejaré de quererte Si al cielo subir pudiera, Llorona Las estrellas te bajara La luna tus pies pusiera, Llorona Y el sol te coronara Ay de mí, Llorona, Llorona llevame al río Tápame con tu rebozo, Llorona, porque me muero de frío. Ay de mi, Llorona Llorona de ayer y hoy Ayer maravilla fui, Llorona Y ahora ni sombra soy [Translation:] Two kisses I wear on my forehead that won't leave me The last one from my mother and the first that I gave you Alas, Llorona Llorona of heavenly blue Although it cost me my life I'll never stop loving you If I could climb to heaven, Llorona I would bring the stars down to you I would put the moon at your feet And crown you with the sun Alas, Llorona Llorona, take me to the river Cover me with your shawl because I'm dying of cold Alas, Llorona Llorona of yesterday and today Yesterday I was a marvel And now I'm not even a shadow
Lovely Agnes 02:59
Oh Agnes, won't you go with me We'll be married in style And we'll cross Lake Michigan So blue and so wild We'll cross over Lake Michigan 'Till we come to the shore And our orchards will blossom for Our babies as they're born Oh, yes, I will go with you Leave Wisconsin behind Though my parents think little of My life on a farm Oh, to leave the gay city life To be buried on a farm But I'll watch the orchards bloom in spring Spend the winters warm in your arms Three children he gave her Curtis, Addy, and Dee And their fourth child, little Gussie, came Ten years after these And she raised them with loving hand And with firmness of mind And she raised them through troubled times Agnes, strong-willed and kind Now three-score years have gone and passed Like the fruit on the tree And her children have children With babes on their knees And they all join in the summertime On the crystal lake shore To greet Lovely Agnes, Now twelve years and four-score
[I learned these songs from Cathie Ryan, on The Back Door by Cherish the Ladies. Maire Mhor I had to learn phonetically, and from a non-native speaker at that. I can't vouch for any of the syllables I spit out here. Coal Quay Market is, thankfully, a little more straightforward.] When I went out to the Coal Quay for to buy an old chemise The first thing I picked up in my hands, I found it full of fleas "How much d'ya want for that old thing?" "Eighteen pence," said she "Eighteen pence for that old thing? D'ya think I am a fool-o?" So I took it home and I washed it out and I hung it out to dry "How much d'dya pay for that old thing?" "Eighteen pence," says I "Eighteen pence for that old thing? D'ya think I am a fool? Take it out of the house, you dirty old thing" and he walloped me with the stool-o So I took it back to the Coal Quay and says "Ma'am, would you be so kind To take back the old chemise that hangs so long behind?" The woman she gave a look at me, and her lips began to squeeze Then all around the Coal Quay, sure, she walloped me with the chemise-o So come all you pretty females if you want to buy new clothes Never buy a chemise that will hang down to your toes Never let your man interfere with your starch and blue And if you want to buy a chemise, be sure you buy one new-o
Pale was the wounded knight That bore the rowan shield Loud and cruel were the raven's cries That feasted on the field, singing Beck water, cold and clear, Will never clean your wounds There's none but the Witch of the West-mer-lands Can make thee hale and soond So turn, turn your stallion's head Till his red mane flies in the wind And many a drop of your blood shall fall E'er you see this field again And clear was the paley moon And the wild wind stung his eyes; Below the hills his great heart siezed When he heard the houlet cry, Singin' Why do you ride this way, And wherefore came ye here? I seek the Witch of the West-mer-lands Who dwells by the winding mere And it's weary by Ullswater And the misty Brakefern way Till through a cleft o' the Kirkstane Pass The winding water lay And it's down to the water's brim He's borne the rowan shield, And the goldenrod he has cast in To see what the lake might yield And wet rose she from the lake, And fast and fleet went she, One half the form of a woman fair With a jet black mare's body And loud, long, and shrill he blew Till his steed was by his side; High overhead the grey hawk flew And swiftly he did ride She said, Pray sheath thy silvery sword, Lay down the rowan shield, For I see by the briny blood that flows You've been wounded in the field. And she stood in a gown of the velvet blue, Bound 'round with a silver chain And she's kissed his pale lips once and twice And three time 'round again And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod; Full fast in her arms he lay, And he has risen hale and soond With the sun high in the day, Singin' Ride with your brindled hound at heel And your good grey hawk in hand; There's none can harm the knight who's lain With the Witch of the West-mer-lands
There once was a lord in the old country And he courted a lady gay, And as they were riding through the town It's a wager she did lay And I will wager five hundred pounds Five hundred pounds to one That a maid I'll go to the Broomfield Hill And a maid I will return And there she stood at her bower door And there she made her moan Saying, Shall I go to the Broomfield Hill Or shall I remain at home? When up spoke an old witch woman Sitting by the blazing burn Saying, You will go to the Broomfield Hill And a maid you will return For when you get to the Broomfield Hill You'll find your love asleep With his horse and his hounds as his silky-satin gowns And his ribbons all down to his feet And you'll pluck the blossom off of the broom And the blossom that smells so sweet And you'll strew some around at the crown of his head And some more at the soles of his feet So she's away to the Broomfield Hill And she found her love asleep With his horse and his hounds as his silky-satin gowns And his ribbons all down to his feet And she plucked the blossom off of the broom Saying, Oh but it smells sweet And aye, the thicker she scattered it around The deeper her love did sleep And she took the gay gold ring from her finger And she put it on his right hand So that when he woke he would know That his love had been there at his command And when they saw him stir from his sleep All the birds began to sing, Crying, Awaken, awaken, awaken, Master, Your lady's been and gone Oh where were you, my good grey hound And where were you, my steed? That when my lady was so near You did not waken me? Oh, I stamped with my hoof, Master, Till all the earth did hum But all the more that I did stamp Awaken would you none And I barked out, But no kind thing would awaken you Till your lady'd been and gone So haste, haste, me good grey steed To wherever she may be Or all the birds of the Broomfield Hill Will have their fill of thee When she went out, she right bitter wept But she came laughing home, Saying, I have been to the Broomfield Hill And a maid returned again
Well, I've often heard it said, from me father and me mother That going to a wedding is the making of another Well, if this be so then I'll go without a biddin' Oh, kind providence, won't you send me to a wedding And it's oh, dear me, how will it be If I die an old maid in the garret? Well, now, there's me sister Jean, she's not handsome nor good-looking Scarcely sixteen and a fella she was courting Now she's twenty-four with a son and a daughter Here's me [insert your own age] and I've never had an offer And it's oh, dear me, how will it be If I die an old maid in the garret? I can cook and I can sew, I can keep the house right tidy I rise up early morning and I get the breakfast ready But nothing in this wide world would make me half so cheery As a wee fat man who would call me his own dearie And it's oh, dear me, how will it be If I die an old maid in the garret? Well I'm off away home, 'cause nobody's heeding Nobody's heeding to poor Annie who is pleading I'm away home to me own wee bit garret If I can't find a man, then I'll surely find a carrot And it's oh, dear me, how will it be If I die an old maid in the garret? So come landsman or come kinsman, come tinker or come tailor Come fiddler, come dancer, come plowman or come sailor Come rich man, come poor man, come fool or come witty Come any man at all who will take me out of pity And it's oh, dear me, how will it be If I die an old maid in the garret?
There were two sisters in old England Oh the wind and rain They were courted by the very same man Oh the dreadful wind and rain He courted the elder with ribbons and rings But he loved the younger one above anything Sister, sister walk with me And watch the river flow down to the sea Then she pushed her in to the water to drown And watched her as she floated down Well, sometimes she sank and sometimes she swam Till she came down to the miller's dam Come see, come see on the miller's pond She looks just like a golden swan Then the miller fished her out with his long hook and line As the King's own fiddler was passing by He made fiddle pegs of her long finger bones He made fiddle pegs of her long finger bones He strung his fiddle bow with her long yellow hair He strung his fiddle bow with her long yellow hair And he made a fiddle fiddle of her white breast-bone And he made a fiddle fiddle of her white breast-bone But the only tune that the fiddle would play was... Yeah, the only tune that the fiddle would play was...
Aquellos que no han sentido cada día del mundo caer sobre la doble máscara del navío, no la sal sino el tiempo, no la sombra sino el paso desnudo de la dicha, cómo podrán cerrar los ojos, los ojos solitarios y dormir? Yo quiero que las vidas se integren encendiendo los besos hasta ahora apogados. Yo soy el buen poeta casamentero. Tengo novias para todos los hombres [Translation by Margaret Sayers Peden:] Those who have never felt the weight of day fall upon the ship's twin figureheads, not salt but time, not shadow but the naked footsteps of happiness, how can they ever close their lonely eyes in sleep? I want lives to blend together, kindling kisses unknown until now. I am the good matchmaker poet. I have a sweetheart for every man.


A collection of live recordings from 2000-2002


released February 1, 2000

Sound by Eddie Jay Williams of Full Circuit Sound
Don Clifton: electric guitar
David Denz: bodhran
Bruce Haedt: bantar, classical guitar, and additional vocals


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Emily Groff Bainbridge Island, Washington

Harp and voice
Sweet as hell

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