Hedgepig
~ Folk Rock with a Scottish twang!
~ Hedgepig... Our website for Gigs & info ~
Hedgepig are available for both public and private bookings but please give plenty of notice especially around
Jan 25th Burn's night, March 17th Paddy's night, Nov 30th St Andrew's night and Xmas
~ Some Lyrics (for those sad lot who wanna sing along.) ~
Songs
Dirty Old Town
I met my love by the gasworks wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
Kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old town.
~~~
Clouds a drifting across the moon
Cats a prowling on their beat
Springs a girl in the street at night
Dirty old town, dirty old town.
~~~
Heard a siren from the docks
Saw a train set the night on fire
Smelled the spring on the smoky wind
Dirty old town, dirty old town.
~~~
I'm going to make a good sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fire
I'll chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town, dirty old town.
~~~~~~~~~
| From Clare To here Oh there's four who share a room. As we work hard for the crack And getting up late on Sunday I never get to mass ~~~ Chorus It's a long way from Clare to here Oh! It's a long way from Clare to here Oh! it's a long long way it gets further day by day It's a long long way from Clare to here. ~~~ When Friday night comes around and he's only in the fighting My mum would like a letter home but I'm to tired for writing. ~~~~~~~~~ |
| I'll Tell Me Ma' I'll tell me ma, when I get home, the boys won't leave the girls alone. They pull my hair, they stole my comb, and that's all right till I get home. She is handsome, she is pretty. She's the belle of Belfast City, She is courting' one, two three. Please won't you tell me who is she? ~~~ Albert Mooney says he loves her, all the boys are fighting for her. They rap at the door and they ring on the bell, saying "Oh, my truelove are you well?" Out she comes as white as snow, rings on her fingers bells on her toes, Old Jenny Murphy says she'll die, if she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye. ~~~ Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high and snow come shovelling from the sky She's as sweet as apple pie and she'll get her own lad by and by. When she gets a lad of her own she won't tell her ma when she gets home Let them all come as they will, for it's Albert Mooney she loves still. ~~~~~~~~~ |