Ich bin grad über einen Liedtext gestolpert, der mir einfach wahnsinnig gut gefällt, und möchte den niemandem vorenthalten.

Gerne darf man hier auch eigene Werke posten (Gedichte, Lyrics etc.)

Nur seid bitte vorsichtig mit Links zu Youtube etc. und haltet euch da an die entsprechenden Vorschriften, ergo: Wir posten solche Links in der Form: www.yt...../mzcv5TJkJBA

So weiß jeder was gemeint ist und wir verletzen keine Rechte irahaaat:

So, jetzt aber.

******************************************************************************
In dieser Version wohl (c) Skip Henderson

With pistol, cutlass, I know well
You forged your bloody way to hell
The devil rings the deathbell's nail
Upon the Spanish Main

Some will laugh and some will cry
Lose a foot or hand or eye
Some will live but most will die
Upon the Spanish Main

Black Bart died with a cross on his breast
And his coat of a gold-crimson brocade.

Blackbeard's skull is kept in a case
And no one knows where his bones have been laid.

Kidd was hanged up in a cage by the Thames
And covered with tar to rot.

As a sight for all those who'd go on account
Just how it wouldn't dispose us their lot.

And it's Bones, Bones, old Billy Bones
Straight from the Lockers of Davy Jones

He's tar ready sky
Blood in your eye
Here's to your old Billy Bones

Now I've been around over 300 years
And you won't find no corpse or a stone.
And I'm back from hell alive and quite well
Just to claim what is Billy Bones' own.

So I'll pillage these damsels in an illegal way
Plunder for gold and jewels
I'm the master pirate supreme buccaneer
And I've outmastered all of those fools!

And it's Bones, Bones, old Billy Bones
Straight from the Lockers of Davy Jones

He's tar ready sky
Blood in your eye
Here's to your old Billy Bones

Okay!

Weil ichs grad so schön find *gröl*

Vielleicht ja auch mal was für "unsere" Band?


RATCLIFFE HIGHWAY (or: THE FIRESHIP)

- alternate lyrics by Cyril Tawney -

As Jack walked one morning, Point Beach up and down,
He spied pretty Polly of merry Portsmouth Town.
As soon as Jack seen her most beautiful face
He hoists his three tops'ls and to her gives chase.

chorus:

T'me riggin gray!
Come rattle my riggin on down!
Come rattle my riggin down Ratcliffe Highway!

Jack hailed her in Dutch and the signal she knew
She backed her main tops'l and for him heaved-to.
And Jack lowered his jolly boat, and pulled along side,
He found madam's gangway was open, and wide!

chorus

Jack entered her cabin, and swore "Damn her eyes!"
What was she but a fireship rigged out in disguise!
Set fire to Jack's rigging, likewise to his hull,
Now away to the hospital Jack has to scull.

chorus

Set fire to Jack's rigging, likewise to his hull;
Now away to the hospital Jack has to scull,
With his helm hard a-starboard, as he sailed along;
His ship-mates cried after him "Your yardarm is sprung!"

chorus

Now, Jack he's reached home to Portsmouth at last.
He lies on the lower deck among the low-class.
He lies on his back, and he cries out "O, Lord!"
"Wasn't that a stiff breeze when I sprung me main yard?"





Sorry.

Nachdem ich das beim Gathering schon ständig im Ohr hatte:


Spanish Ladies - Traditional (erstes Erscheinen im Logbuch der Nellie 1796)

Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish Ladies,
Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain;
For we've received orders for to sail for ole England,
But we hope in a short time to see you again.
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.

We hove our ship to with the wind from sou'west, boys
We hove our ship to, deep soundings to take;
'Twas forty-five fathoms, with a white sandy bottom,
So we squared our main yard and up channel did make.
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.

The first land we sighted was called the Dodman,
Next Rame Head off Plymouth, off Portsmouth the Wight;
We sailed by Beachy, by Fairlight and Dover,
And then we bore up for the South Foreland light.
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.

Then the signal was made for the grand fleet to anchor,
And all in the Downs that night for to lie;
Let go your shank painter, let go your cat stopper!
Haul up your clewgarnets, let tacks and sheets fly!
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.

Now let ev'ry man drink off his full bumper,
And let ev'ry man drink off his full glass;
We'll drink and be jolly and drown melancholy,
And here's to the health of each true-hearted lass.
We will rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar all on the salt sea.
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England;
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty five leagues.

Hier der Baltimore Hive-shanty, den ich in der Taverne nicht mehr richtig zusammenbeokommen habe. Dabei ist der Text ja eigentlich denkbar einfach.

Auf jede Zeile wird zweimal gezogen, sodass man in einen wiegenden Rythmus kommt. Der Witz ist natuerlich, dass man das Lied beliebeig wiederholen kann, bis die Arbeit fertig ist. Was nun gerade gekuesst wird, sing der Vorsaenger allein, den Rest singen alle im Chor.


Baltimore Shanty

No móre, no móre,
we gó to sea no móre,
As sóon we reach the tówn tonight
We're léaving for the shóre.

And he kíssed her on the fáce,
And the créw began to róar.
Óh, oh, and úp she goes,
We’re bóund for Baltimóre

No more...

And he kissed her on the cheeks,
And the crew began to roar.
Oh, oh, up she goes,
We’re bound for Baltimore

No more...

And he kissed her on the lips,
And the crew began to roar.
And he kissed her on the neck,
And the crew began to roar,
And he kissed her on the arms,
And the crew began to roar.
And he kissed her on the legs,
And the crew began to roar,
And he kissed her on the knees,
And the crew began to roar.
And he kissed her on the toes,
And the crew began to roar,
And he kissed her on the …..!!!
And the crew began to roar.
And he kissed her on the ……!!!

Ich bin dafür, mal einen schönen Spelunken-Sing-Abend zu machen! *indiehändeklatsch*

Hier is noch einer, weniger anzüglich aber dafür mit einer wunderschönen Melodie (einfach mal nach Hörproben googeln).


Greenland Whale Fisheries

'Twas in eighteen hundred and fifty-three
In June, the thirteenth day
That our gallant ship her anchor weighed
And for Greenland sailed away, brave boys
And for Greenland sailed away.


The lookout on the cross-trees stood
With a spyglass in his hand
There's a whale, there's a whale
There's a whalefish, he cried,
And she blows at every span, brave boys
She blows at every span.


The captain stood on the quarterdeck
And a fine little man was he
Overhaul! Overhaul!
Let your davit-tackles fall
And launch your boats for sea, brave boys
And launch your boats for sea.


The boats where launched with the men aboard
And the whale was in full view
Resolved was each seaman bold
To steer where the whalefish blew, brave boys
To steer where the whalefish blew.


We struck that whale, and the line played out
But she gave a flourish with her tail
The boat capsized and four men were drowned
And we never caught that whale, brave boys
And we never caught that whale.


To lose that whale, our captain said
It grieves my heart full sore
But, oh, to lose four gallant men
It grieves me ten times more, brave boys
It grieves me ten times more.


The winter star doth now appear
So, boys, we'll anchor weigh
It's time to leave this cold country
And homeward bear away, brave boys
And homeward bear away.


Oh, Greenland is a dreadful place
A land that's never green
Where there's ice and snow
And the whale fishes blow
And daylight's seldom seen, brave boys
And daylight's seldom seen.

Avast!

Auch wenn ich nicht wirklich gut singen kann, bin ich auch fürn Spelunken-Sing-Abend. Der Antrag wurde hiermit gestellt und unterstützt. Aber dann wird bitte auch "The Return of Billy Bones" (Lied Nr.1 in dieser Liste) zur Aufführung gebracht. Der Text ist zwar schon klasse... aber das Lied muß man hören. Mein Lieblingslied von Henderson!

[unqualifziert] Am besten an dem Walfängerlied gefällt mir ja, daß der Wal davonkommt. [/unqualifiziert]

Ich hoffe ja, das die Pulveraffen aus alle dem was sie so singen mal ein Songbook machen. Dann wird das auch was mit dem Spelunken-Sing-Abend.