1. |
The Piper
02:49
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Some years ago the Piper left the town that we call home
To travel all the areas none here had ever roamed.
The people there knew not of him, nor knew they whence he came –
But sometimes a child followed him – went off to do the same.
Those children were the outcast few, the ones without a friend,
Whose dress or movement got a laugh, whose sorrow saw no end.
To stay in their home village, it would be too much to bear,
And the Ratcatcher would take them and vanish in thin air.
The Piper’s come to town, my friends, and you know how this goes –
Our parents think the only kids who go are those he chose.
But we know ourselves better, and we know the answer’s plain:
We won’t go home again.
The Piper heard from all around that his mind was a flaw –
But when he dared look inward, not a problem there he saw.
He went from here to Hamlin, told the children there the truth:
It wasn’t rats he hunted for, but how to save the youth.
And with his friends, the Piper then continued on his way.
He’d stop in every village to take those who couldn’t stay –
The ones whose bodies don’t fit right or words all come out wrong,
The church-forbidden loves and all the young who thing in song.
CHORUS
Sometimes he goes back to our home village, just in case
Another one of us is stuck in that horrendous place.
But nobody else goes back there – we have to keep away,
For if our parents find out, oh, we know we’ll rue the day.
The Piper’s come to town, my friends, and you know how this goes –
Our parents think it’s all his fault but heaven only knows
That they can chase the Piper down until that man is slain
But we won’t go home again.
Together we are stronger and we know the answer’s plain:
We won’t go home again.
We won’t go home again.
We wont - go - home - a - gain.
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2. |
Ahab
03:00
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A child’s watching the ocean and Massachusetts waves as they come to the sand
All the teenagers swimming and currents carrying one more shell from her hand
There are skeletons inland, away from the beaches, with their own stories to tell
But for a child of three a five hundred page book is a pretty hard sell
The stories of ice and of water are surely enough to scare a child
And add to that all of the tales of animals strong and fierce and wild
But little could stop all the men of New Bedford in eighteen hundred odd
When wives needed money and children food and they gave their hope to God
And the harpoons would hit and the oil was collected
The bones were all cleaned and their designs selected
But little by little the stories all grew
Of a white whale that gave whalers all they were due
The smell of the brine and the legends long before Melville were too much for many
With Puritan settlements taking every resource and not sharing any
But Friends shared all they had and kept a tight ship and good crew
And through their efforts everyone knows the stories ― just a few
And the harpoons would hit and the oil was collected
The bones were all cleaned and their designs selected
But little by little the stories all grew
Of a white whale that gave whalers all they were due
Whales drawn on whale teeth, ships inked on bone, and portraits of daughters and sons
Paintings and etchings to carry the story once known by everyone
Slocum went round and Melville wrote down the most famous tale of all
That of Ahab and the whale he swore he’d catch or devil would call
For when harpoons would hit and the oil was collected
That so often meant that the humans were bested
New Bedford holds stories, and this one is true
Of the white whale that gave whalers all they were due
All they were due
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3. |
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’Sé do bheatha, a bhean ba léanmhar
do bé ár gcreach tú bheith i ngéibhinn
do dhúiche bhreá i seilbh meirleach
's tú díolta leis na Gallaibh.
Chorus:
Óró, sé do bheatha bhaile
óró, sé do bheatha bhaile
óró, sé do bheatha bhaile
anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.
Tá Gráinne Mhaol ag teacht thar sáile
óglaigh armtha léi mar gharda,
Gaeil iad féin is ní Francaigh ná Spáinnigh
's cuirfidh siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh.
Chorus
A bhuí le Rí na bhFeart go bhfeiceam
muna mbeam beo ina dhiaidh ach seachtain
Gráinne Mhaol agus míle gaiscíoch
ag fógairt fáin ar Ghallaibh.
Chorus
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Jasper Teagan Thomas
A filker and nerd with too much time to spare, JT takes pride in his work despite the fact that it's all done in his bedroom. A known queer who may be seen cuddling any fluffy animals in the vicinity before apologizing to them for how loud his instruments are. May be followed anywhere he goes by a whole bunch of corvids; don't ask. ... more
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