The Crisfield Folk Musicians Retreat Songbook PDF
Preview The Crisfield Folk Musicians Retreat Songbook
The Crisfield Banjo Retreat Songbook Frailing banjo songs and tunes arraigned by Pat & Patrick Costello Pik-Ware Publishing PO Box 110 Crisfield, MD 21817 Boil ‘em Cabbage Down 4/4 Time - Key of C – G Tuning Went up on a mountain Someone stole my old coon dog. To give my horn a blow, blow. Wish they'd bring him back. Thought I heard my true love say, He chased the big hogs through the fence, "Yonder comes my beau." And the little ones through the crack. Possum in a 'simmon tree, Met a possum in the road, Raccoon on the ground. Blind as he could be. Raccoon says, you son-of-a-gun, Jumped the fence and whipped my dog Shake some 'simmons down. And bristled up at me. Once I had an old gray mule Butterfly, he has wings of gold. His name was Simon Slick Firefly, wings of flame. He'd roll his eyes and back his ears Bedbug, he got no wings at all, And how that mule would kick But he gets there just the same. Cripple Creek 4/4 Time - Key of G – G Tuning Verse: Chorus: I got a gal at the head of the creek Goin up to see her 'bout the middle of the week Kiss her on the mouth, just as sweet as any wine Wraps herself around me like a sweet potatoe vine Chorus: Goin' up Cripple Creek, goin' on the run Goin' up Cripple Creek t' have a little fun Goin' up Cripple Creek, goin in a whirl Goin' up Cripple Creek to see my girl Girls up on Cripple Creek about half grown Jump on a man like a dog on a bone I'll roll my britches up to my knees An' wade in ol' Cripple Creek when I please Coal Creek March 4/4 Time - Key of G – G Tuning Coal Creek miners firing on Fort Anderson in 1892 Danville Girl 3/4 Time - Key of G – G Tuning My pocket book was empty She took me in her Kitchen My heart was full of pain She treated me nice and kind Ten thousand miles away from home She got me off the notion Bumming the railroad train Of bumming all the time It was standing on the platform She wore her hair on the back of her head Smoking a cheap cigar Like high-tone people do listening for that next freight train But the very next train come down the line To carry an empty car I bid that girl adieu Well I got off at Danville I pulled my cap down over my eyes Got stuck on the Danville girl Walked down to the track You bet your life she's out of sight Then I caught a westbound freight She wore those Danville curls Never did look back Little Maggie 4/4 Time - Key of G – G Tuning Oh, yonder stand Little Maggie Come and go with me to the station With her dram glass in her hand Got my suitcase in my hand She's a-drinkin' away all her troubles I'm goin' away Little Maggie And a-courtin' some other man I'm goin' to some far distant land Lord, how can I ever stand it Go away, go away Little Maggie For to see them pretty blue eyes Go and do the best you can A-smilin’ at another I'll get me another woman Like two diamonds in the sky You can get you another man The White House Blues 4/4 Time - Key of C – G Tuning McKinley hollered, McKinley squalled Roosevelt’s in the White House doing his best Doc said “McKinley, I can’t find that ball McKinley’s in the graveyard taking a rest You’re bound to die, In Buffalo” He’s gonna be gone, a long old time Look here you rascal, see what you’ve done Roosevelt’s in the White House drinking out a silver cup You shot my husband with your Ivers-Johnson gun McKinley’s the graveyard, he’ll never wake up I’m taking you back, to Washington He’s gonna be gone, a long old time The doc came a running pulling off his specs Czolgosz, Czolgoz, mighty mean man Doc said “McKinley better cash in your checks You shot McKinley with a flower in his hand You’re bound to die, In Buffalo” He’s gonna be gone, a long old time The train, running, blowing down the line Hush up you children, don’t you fret Whistling every station McKinley he’s a dying You’ll draw a pension at your daddy’s death From Buffalo, to Washington He’s gonna be gone, a long old time Forty-four boxcars trimmed in lace Put him in the last one so we can’t see his face From Buffalo, to Washington Interior of the Temple of Music Where McKinley was Shot. Battleship Maine Sung to the melody of The White House Blues McKinley called for volunteers, I give my feet good exercise, So I got my gun, I had nothing else to do, First Spaniard I saw coming It was all about that Battleship of Maine. I dropped my gun and run, When they were a-chasing me, It was all about that Battleship of Maine. I fell down on my knees, Why are you running, First thing I cast my eyes upon Are you afraid to die? Was a great big pot of peas, It was all about that Battleship of Maine. The reason that I'm running Is because I cannot fly, The peas they were greasy, It was all about that Battleship of Maine. The meat it was fat, The boys was fighting Spaniards The blood was a-running While I was fighting that, And I was running too, It was all about that Battleship of Maine.
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