Lads and lassies, the songs you’ve all been waiting for so desparately: here is the latest collection of BoB recordings, entitled
Drink, Holler and Dance !!
Drink, Holler and Dance
We thought we’d best open the proceedings with an in-your-face kinda song, so we chose Three Legged Dog, a song about muddling through and not giving a shit in the face of adversity. Don’t we all have to at times? Hoping it cheers you up.
He’s like a three legged dog, he don’t give a damn about
What once was and might have been
He’s got his share of luck and his years of plenty
“Let the devil come get me, whenever he’s ready”
Sam never had much of plan
He never, he never quite lived like an honest man
But with a pint in hand and his stomach empty
He’ll take on the world, if it strikes his fancy
He’s like a three legged dog, he don’t give a damn about
What once was and might have been
He’s got his share of luck and his years of plenty
“Let the devil come get me, whenever he’s ready”
And Anne knew that he was trouble then
When swore she’d make of him an honest man
And for three short years, yeah they made it last
But for a pretty girl, yeah he took his chance
He’s like a three legged dog, he don’t give a damn about
What once was and might have been
He’s got his share of luck and his years of plenty
“Let the devil come get me, whenever he’s ready”
He’s gotta a new scheme, that he’s been trying to sell
It’s a great deal, yeah he swears to hell
He’s got a quick mouth, but his eyes are empty
He’s never in need of any company
But on a cold summer’s day, can find no high nor swill
It’s been forty years and he’s running still
His bones ache, but his heart ain’t heavy
He just needs a little, a little to get steady
He’s like a three legged dog, he don’t give a damn about
What once was and might have been
He’s got his share of luck and his years of plenty
“Let the devil come get me, whenever he’s ready”
This a song about the one thing that is inevitable in life: death. Departure Time will one day await us all. No worries though, it is as happy a song about death as we could think of. So basically another cheerful song: one might as well enjoy the time one has got given.
I met an old man at the bar
Holding his pint near, his thoughts were far
In distant times, on distant shores
He’s still a-fighting long-lost wars
Well he took a sip and told me stories
Of long gone dreams and long gone glories
Of the days he’d stye his quiff with grease
The lassies and fights won with ease
He said: “I sure, am past my prime
But I live my life in extra time
One of these days might be my last
Departure time is coming fast”
More to recall now, than to dream
Thoughts of good times, they do redeem
He raised his pint, said “To your health
Good times matter, more than wealth”
Well he took a sip and told me stories
Of long gone dreams and long gone glories
Of the days he’d stye his quiff with grease
The lassies and fights won with ease
He said: “I sure, am past my prime
But I live my life in extra time
One of these days might be my last
Departure time is coming fast”
Hand of a Bastard Son is an attempt at a classic murder ballad style story song. The Eureka moment happened in the shower, the rest of the song was built around it. Themes are regret and facing the consequences of one’s actions.
I traveled wide, I traveled far
I found myself some dingy bar
And a table strewn with cards
A young man across from me
He showed his hand revealed a queen
And as his eyes began to gleam
He says your face I’m sure I’ve seen
The metal painted black, he thumbed the hammer back
(by the hand of a bastard son, by the hand of a bastard son)
Some things you may outrun, but not the barrel of a gun
(by the hand of a bastard son, by the hand of a bastard son)
If sorry’s what you want, well apologies I’ve none
For the years and the mistakes, they have long gone
Then I heard the thunder struck, as the bullet punched into my gut
(by the hand of a bastard son, by the hand of a bastard son)
You’re a liar, braggart, cheat
Was told that you had died at sea
But I see the four leaf and the crest
That hangs around your neck
I know from some old photograph
Cherished by my mother dear
That till her last day she held nearÂ
The metal painted black, he thumbed the hammer back
(by the hand of a bastard son, by the hand of a bastard son)
Some things you may outrun, but not the barrel of a gun
(by the hand of a bastard son, by the hand of a bastard son)
If sorry’s what you want, well apologies I’ve none
For the years and the mistakes, they have long gone
Then I heard the thunder struck, as the bullet punched into my gut
(by the hand of a bastard son, by the hand of a bastard son)
I won’t beg, barter or plead
I won’t get on these tired knees
We were too foolish and too young
We did not know what we’d begun
From the small of my back
Brought some old photograph
Of a smiling blue eyed boy
And the woman that I’d once
Once I had adored
Some things you may outrun
But not the person you’ve become
The metal painted black, he thumbed the hammer back
(by the hand of a bastard son, by the hand of a bastard son)
Some things you may outrun, but not the barrel of a gun
(by the hand of a bastard son, by the hand of a bastard son)
If sorry’s what you want, well apologies I’ve none
For the years and the mistakes, they have long gone
Then I heard the thunder struck, as the bullet punched into my gut
(by the hand of a bastard son, by the hand of a bastard son)
Drink, Holler and Dance again addresses the attitude to not give up but to take in what life has to offer as long as one can, the punchlinie being “I’ll drink, holler and dance, while there’s blood in my veins and I still have a chance”.
Right here now, while this,
Foolish heart of mine
Can, can still take a beating
Yeah while, I’m still alive
And I’ve lost the silence
But I ain’t, I ain’t a monk in a ministry
No divine light or salvation
There’s just this riotous cacophony
I’ll drink, holler and dance
While there’s blood in my veins and I still have a chance
Drink, holler and dance
Till the salt stings my eyes and my last ragged breath
Drink, holler and dance
Now that the rot has set in
Eats away at my teeth and my skin
Though it’s nought but the flesh
Perish the thought nonetheless
And though my steps may falter
And my, my courage collapse
There might be new day
At least a couple of more of them
So drink, holler and dance
While there’s blood in my veins and I still have a chance
Drink, holler and dance
Till the salt stings my eyes and my last ragged breathÂ
Drink Holler and dance
So I’ll drink, holler and dance
While there’s blood in my veins and I still have a chance
Drink, holler and dance
Till the salt stings my eyes and my last ragged breath
Drink, holler and dance
To put our money where our mouths are, the next song is about a dance. A dance that needs some introduction these days. We found out at our gigs that the younger punters tend to not know what the pogo is. Still, and apparently against the odds, our tune is called the Pogo Never Stops.
When the night is over, and they open the first shops
I feel ev’ry inch a rover, cause the pogo never stops
Yeah we’ll turn each bottle over, not to forgo any drops
And still go on full throttle, cause the pogo never stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
When I was a kid, I joined my parents on the lash
I got to see the greats, The Pogues, The Specials, Clash
As the drummer hit the beat, I would not be stopped
I’d be shouting for more songs, and keeping up the bop
When the night is over, and they open the first shops
I feel ev’ry inch a rover, cause the pogo never stops
Yeah we’ll turn each bottle over, not to forgo any drops
And still go on full throttle, cause the pogo never stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
As I grew to be a man, chasing girls and beers
The lassies broke my heart, and caused me many tears
My friends they would come over, and after a few pints
And in no time flat, I’d be jumping with delight
When the night is over, and they open the first shops
I feel ev’ry inch a rover, cause the pogo never stops
Yeah we’ll turn each bottle over, not to forgo any drops
And still go on full throttle, cause the pogo never stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
now that I’ve grown older I still like to move my arse
and get down in the pit, and though I don’t move fast
but staying in the house, and staring at the box
feels like giving up, so I’d rather bop
When the night is over, and they open the first shops
I feel ev’ry inch a rover, cause the pogo never stops
Yeah we’ll turn each bottle over, not to forgo any drops
And still go on full throttle, cause the pogo never stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
No the pogo never, no the pogo never, the pogo never ever stops
Hopefully everyone knows the warm feeling that friendship brings. Whether it was shortlived or is longlasting, in the moment one can get the feeling to be Friends Forever. Better enjoy it while it lasts.
The day that I met Jack, on the playground we were playing
We were both too young to talk, not a clue what we were saying
Still we wiled away the hours, with the games we did invent
And ever really knowing, where the hours went
On the eve that I met Jim, we were drinking our first beers
And the hangover next morning, was worse than our worst fears
But we laughed it off, and soon we’d have another try
Not knowing how more often, we would drunkenly goodbye
Though I haven’t seen you in forever
More time has passed than spent together
There’s no way I won’t remember
We’re friends forever
The night that I met James, both of us were devastated
Both our girls had left, it was a thing we really hated
So we shared our grieve and soon were anticipating
New adventures to be had, and the lassies we’d be dating
Though I haven’t seen you in forever
More time has passed than spent together
There’s no way I won’t remember
We’re friends forever
Few friendships, they last forever
But don’t let that stop you from
Spending a year, a day or a month
It’s only your loneliness you’re hiding from
Though I haven’t seen you in forever
More time has passed than spent together
There’s no way I won’t remember
We’re friends forever
Now a short explanation about this collection of songs is in place. The next five songs were not planned. We booked a studio for a weekend, recording on Saturday and Sunday from nine to five only, after soundcheck on Friday night. We recorded ‘live in the studio’, to capture the feel and energy of BoB at a gig. If one of us made a mistake, all had to be redone. If no-one made a mistake, a song was recorded in one take. The latter happened more often than we expected. Saturday at five, we recorded all the above six new songs that we had at hand, plus the Irish trad song Tell Me Ma, which needs no further introduction. So what to do on Sunday? In the morning, we re-recorded four of our older songs as we currently play them. The afternoon was spent on backing vocals and a few guitar overdubs. Sunday five o’clock, eleven tracks were completed, much to our own surprise.
Tell me ma when I go home, the boys won’t leave the girls alone
They pull my hair and stole my combe, but that’s all right till I go home
She is handsome she is pretty, she’s the belle of Belfast City
She is a courting one, two, three, prey won’t you tell me who is she?
Albert Mooney says he loves her, all the boys are fighting for her
Knock at the door and they ring that bell, oh my true love, are you well
Out she comes as white as snow, rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Old Jenny Murray says she will die, if she doesn’t get the fellow with the roving eye
Tell me ma when I go home, the boys won’t leave the girls alone
They pull my hair and stole my combe, but that’s all right till I go home
She is handsome she is pretty, she’s the belle of Belfast City
She is a courting one, two, three, prey won’t you tell me who is she?
Let the wind and the rain and the hail go high, and snow come tumbling 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 till she comes home
Let them all come as they will, for it’s Albert Mooney she loves still
Tell me ma when I go home, the boys won’t leave the girls alone
They pull my hair and stole my combe, but that’s all right till I go home
She is handsome she is pretty, she’s the belle of Belfast City
She is a courting one, two, three, prey won’t you tell me who is she?
The Sky over Rotterdam (cowritten with Gydo of Drunken Dolly fame) summarizes the WW2 memories of Andries’s dad. It highlights three episodes of what happened in that sky: the 1940 bombardment, the allied bomber fleets in later years and the food droppings at the end of the war.
The sky over Rotterdam is so peaceful now
But my old man, he still remembers how
The war made that sky such a restless place
And then the airplanes, were never hard to trace
First them planes brought war, then they raised hopes high
In the end, dropping food from the sky
The sky, the sky, the sky, over Rotterdam
One morning in spring, German planes were all around
They dropped their bombs, burnt our town to the ground
People ran for their lives, many were trapped by the fire
And for five years to come, life would be harsh and dire
The sky over Rotterdam is so peaceful now
But my old man, he still remembers how
The war made that sky such a restless place
And then the airplanes, were never hard to trace
First them planes brought war, then they raised hopes high
In the end, dropping food from the sky
The sky, the sky, the sky, over Rotterdam
And in years to come, allied planes would rule the air
And foreign towns, were handed the same nightmare
As people starved from hunger, in the Rotterdam streets
They often said a prayer, to support them allied fleets
The sky over Rotterdam is so peaceful now
But my old man, he still remembers how
The war made that sky such a restless place
And then the airplanes, were never hard to trace
First them planes brought war, then they raised hopes high
In the end, dropping food from the sky
The sky, the sky, the sky, over Rotterdam
Then one fine day, the planes flew in real low
No bullets, no bombs, but food they let go
And never before, had the sun shone so bright
After five long years, people danced into the night
The sky over Rotterdam is so peaceful now
But my old man, he still remembers how
The war made that sky such a restless place
And then the airplanes, were never hard to trace
First them planes brought war, then they raised hopes high
In the end, dropping food from the sky
The sky, the sky, the sky, over Rotterdam
Another true story are the attempts to kill Michael Malloy in order to collect insurance money. Check: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Malloy. Around the same time, our colleagues Mr. Irish Bastard also wrote a piece about him, which they called Mike Malloy.
In New York’s driest days, a group of six man
Were down and out, and came up with a plan
To collect insurance, on the life of a man
So they chose homeless Mike, and their project began
And Tony one of the six, owned a pub the blind pig
Gave Michael free booze, he was already sick
But all of the drinking, did not do the trick
Merely revived Iron Mike, as would soon be his nick
They fed him antifreeze and turpentine, till he fell on the floor
But the next day, he came back for more
Not easy to kill, Michael Malloy
This tough Irish bloke, was so hard to destroy
Not easy to kill, Michael Malloy
but it made a great tale, for the rest to enjoy
Horse liminent, rat poison, they did all they could
Raw oysters Mike ate, soaked in alcohol wood
A carpet-tack sandwich, he even withstood
They had to attempt, something different than food
So in the freezing cold they laid him, soaking wet to be no more
Oh but the next day, yes he came through the door
Not easy to kill, Michael Malloy
This tough Irish bloke, was so hard to destroy
Not easy to kill, Michael Malloy
but it made a great tale, for the rest to enjoy
Our six got annoyed, with their luck so far
Put Mike on to the road, to get hit by a car
But after three weeks, in a hospital ward
Mike walked back into, Tony’s bar
One January night, Mike breathed his last
They got him drunk, and they killed him with gas
A shallow grave, but insurance would pass
They’d heard of the scam, and police caught their arse
So they dug up Michael’s grave, and he was buried with pride
And our six murderous man, they got the chair and they died
Not easy to kill, Michael Malloy
This tough Irish bloke, was so hard to destroy
Not easy to kill, Michael Malloy
but it made a great tale, for the rest to enjoy
This song addresses the mixed bag of feelings one can have between playing hard and being in the midst of it all on the one hand and the desire for downtime with one’s love in the Middle of Nowhere on the other.
I love the city’s endless bustle
Couldn’t live without it’s lively hustle
Sometimes it all just gets too much
Then I wish I could be out of touch
I love to be amongst the crowd
And to gigs, shout along real loud
But sometimes it all just gets too much
Then I wish I could be out of touch
I wanna be (I wanna be), I wannna be (I wanna be)
In the middle of nowhere, you and me
I wanna hide (I wanna hide), I wanna hide (I wanna hide)
In the middle of nowhere by your side
In the middle of nowhere by your side
I love the buzz of a brimming pub
And being on the stands of my favorite club
Sometimes it all just gets too much
Then I wish I could be out of touch
I love to get a job well done
And the stress of finding another one
Sometimes it all just gets too much
Then I wish I could be out of touch
I wanna be (I wanna be), I wannna be (I wanna be)
In the middle of nowhere, you and me
I wanna hide (I wanna hide), I wanna hide (I wanna hide)
In the middle of nowhere by your side
In the middle of nowhere by your side
You think, I live my life too fast
You fear, this way I might not last
You know I’ll end up, yes I do
In the middle of nowhere, here with you
I don’t mind being stuck in a traffic jam
Or a commuter train, and get real cramped
Sometimes it all just gets too much
Then I wish I could be out of touch
I really love to party down
With my friends and family all around
Sometimes it all just gets too much
Then I wish I could be out of touch
I wanna be (I wanna be), I wannna be (I wanna be)
In the middle of nowhere, you and me
I wanna hide (I wanna hide), I wanna hide (I wanna hide)
In the middle of nowhere by your side
In the middle of nowhere by your side
The last tune in this collection is a serious one, pointing out all the wonderful positive effects of drinking the occasional pint. There’s Many a Good Reason to do so, as it makes for clearer thinking and a brighter past, and also helps to make the right decisions and to keep the doctor away.
There’s many a good reason, to drink many a good pint
To toast to the new season, or to dreams we left behind
To make the right decision, or to get things off your mind
There is many a good reason, to drink many a good pint
There is many a good reason, to drink many a good pint
There is always cause for drinking, that one last final glass
That makes for clearer thinking, and for a brighter past
Big problems are sent shrinking, and solutions appear fast
There is always cause for drinking, that one last final glass
There is always cause for drinking, that one last final glass
There is always an excuse, to sink a few more stouts
To soothe the pain of bruises, to wash away some doubts
That other guy she chooses, a pain you can do without
There is always an excuse, to sink a few more stouts
There is always an excuse, to sink a few more stouts
And if in doubt one day, remember what they say:
A pint a day, keeps the doctor away
And if in doubt one day, remember what they say:
A pint a day, keeps the doctor away
And if in doubt one day, remember what they say:
A pint a day, keeps the doctor away
A pint a day, keeps the doctor away
A pint a day, you’re gonna die anyway
There’s many a good reason, to drink many a good pint
To toast to the new season, or to dreams we left behind
To make the right decision, or to get things off your mind
There is many a good reason, to drink many a good pint
There is many a good reason, to drink many a good pint
There is many a good reason, to drink many a good pint
