I am a Coachman

(Traditional)

A nice little bawdy song.

I am a coachman all on the high road,
Kissing and courting are all in my mode;
I kiss them, I court them, I lay by their side,
And when I get tired, away I do ride.
Derry down, down, down derry down.

I am a jockey, I ride a fine mare,
I always go straight, and I always go fair;
I keep on a-trying, I never give in,
I'm up in my stirrups until I do win.

I am a plowman, I plow a good furrow,
In the good soft earth my plow it does burrow;
I keep on a-plowing from daybreak till dusk,
And my plow is shiny, it never shows rust.

I am a postman, I call every day,
I bring her the post when her husband's away;
She gets so excited whenever I knock
And pushes my letters into her box.

I'm a lamplighter, I keep my wick trimmed,
And I'm much on call when the winter draws in;
I go down the streets before five o'clock,
And the ladies light up at the sound of my knock.

It Was a Lover and His Lass

(Thomas Moore)

What were the Elizabethans getting up to, hmmmm?  Phrases like nonny nonny no and ding a ding are the folk versions of "yeah yeah yeah."

It was a lover and his lass
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonny no
And a hey nonny, nonny no
That o'er the green cornfield did pass

Chorus:  In springtime, in springtime,
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When the birds do sing, hey ding a ding a ding
Hey ding a ding, Hey ding a ding a ding.

This carol they began that hour,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonny no
And a hey nonny, nonny no
How that life was but a flower

Between the acres of the rye
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonny no
And a hey nonny, nonny no
These pretty country folks would lie.

And therefore take the present time,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonny no
And a hey nonny, nonny no
For love is crowned with the prime

Itches in Me Britches

This song is from the Music Hall era, though quite popular among the filk and SCA crowd despite its "modern" origins.

I was born of Geordie parents, one day when I was young
That's how the Geordie dialect become my native tongue
That I was a pretty baby, me mother she would vow,
The girls all ran to kiss me; well I wish they'd do it now.
 

Chorus:    Oh, I wish they'd do it now, oh I wish they'd do it now
I've got itches in me britches and I wish they'd do it now.
 

Well when I was only six months old the girls would handle me
They clutched me to their bosoms and they bounced me on their knee
They'd rock me in the cradle, and if I made a row
They'd tickle me, they'd cuddle me, I wish they'd do it now.
 

At sixteen months as fine a lad as ever could be seen
The girls all liked to follow me right down to the green.
They would make a chain of buttercups an drop it on me brow
Then they'd roll me in the clover, well I wish they'd do it now.
 

Well the Eastern girls would call for me to swim when it was mild
Down to the river we would go and splash about awhile.
They would throw the water over me and duck me like a cow
Then they'd rub me nice all over, well I wish they'd do it now.
 

Well, it's awful lonely for a lad to lead a single life.
I think I'll go to the dance tonight and find meself a wife.
Oh I have got six bundle pigs, likewise one big fat sow,
There'll be plenty love and bacon for the girl who'll have me now.
 

Chorus:  For the girl who'll have me now, for the girl who'll have me now
There'll be plenty love and bacon for the girl who'll have me now.

 
 

 

I prithee, an thou hast enjoyed rest and merriment whilst pausing at the Gallery, scribe thy thoughts to the good gentle below.
 
 

  songsmith@oocities.com
 

Scribed this 28th day of October, 1998
 

 Except for where otherwise noted, all works and character concepts are Copyrighted 1997