words For Fiddle Tunes
One of Robert Burns' projects was to write words to Scottish fiddle tunes so the tunes would be remembered. If he could do it, I can try.
The verse is to the A part and the chorus is to the B part. Usually the way I perform it is an instrumental A part, a verse, a chorus, and an instrumental B part, then the same pattern again for the second verse and chorus.
The sun is a-shining on the rolling sea
And the screaming gull is a - wheeling free
And the broad North Atlantic is a - rocking me
In my dory off the harbor of St Anne's
Oh, the fishing life's a poor life, so the rich men say
And ambition is a curse that drives our sons away
But while the sea is rocking me I'm glad to stay
In my dory off the harbor of St Anne's
When the rain is a - driving and the storm winds roar
And the big waves pound on the rocky shore
And I'm tending my gear behind my own front door
In my cabin by the harbor of St Anne's
Oh, the fishing life's a poor life, so the rich men say
And ambition is a curse that drives our sons away
But while the storm is bloing then I'm glad to stay
In my cabin by the harbor of St Anne's
One of Ward Allen's great tunes. The song is sung to two A parts, one B part, and one A part. That's also the way the tune is usually played.
It's spring where the maples grow, the water's running off the snow
The robin's coming home from then sunny souther clime
When the maple sap is flowing then I long to be going
To my home in the maple sugar time
Driving spiles in the maple trees with buckets boucing off my knees
And building up the fire underneath the boiling pan
And the finest candy that I know is maple syrup on a bowl of snow
In the land that I began
But I was growing older and I hoped some day my shoulders
Would be broad enough to swing an axe the way my daddy could
But a man's got to make his way and earn his living every day
There ain't no work around that maple wood
So I moved to the city cause that's where all the working was
The air that they breathe here smells like burning styrofoam
But there ain't no sugar maples here and in the spring of every year
My maple sugar forest calls me home