Lyrics for Poets Say

1. White Bird – Ingemar Johansson

To watch the beat of Chicago from the top of a really tall building never ceases to amaze me. The world takes on a perspective that, if not seen first hand, perhaps can be felt in a song…

As I’m looking across town over the hustle and the bustle
I see a lone seagull in the sky
And he’s gazing at the crowded street corners full of cars
And buses and people rushing by
And I’m feeling some kind of a kinship
As he must be thinking just like me
In awe at all that goes on below
When making a jaunt in from the sea

And with the vendors amongst people going thru tall buildings
Just scurrying around
And with the trains that bring them in by the masses
Making noise to that beating sound
That’s beginning to feel like a heart beat
And I’m sure my friend he would agree
As he flies above it all along the roof lines
When making a jaunt in from the sea

Fly away, fly away
White bird, fly away

And I watch that bird swoop down to the banks of the river
That’s winding thru this maze
And he peeks beneath the bridges where the homeless and the poor
And the hungry have made their place
And above them there’s the diamond studded city
With its door to which they all have lost their key
But our bird flies freely from one to the other
As he’s making a jaunt in from the sea

Fly away, fly away
White bird, fly away

And when the evening comes, the darkness falls
At the closing of the day
The streetlights and the neons light it up like a jewel
And adorn the edge of the bay
And the city pulse keeps us spellbound
But our friend he sets himself free
As he flies into the night away from it all
When making his way back to the sea

Fly away, fly away
White bird, fly away

Fly away, fly away
White bird, fly away

Guitar and lead vocal: Ingemar
Bouzouki and backup vocal: Mike
Flute and backup vocal: Lisa
Bodhran and backup vocal: Rick

2. Butterfly/Brown Jug Of Ale – Traditional adapted by Lisa Johansson, poem by R. Tagore

“The butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough “

This poem and this poet, say so much…with out giving it all away. I have been reading Rabindranath Tagore’s poetry for many years and can truly say his work has inspired me through the birth of my first child and many difficult moments. Perhaps, in this piece of favorite traditional Irish jigs, (with a Song of the Lakes spin) there are echoes of anticipation, of new beginnings and of a deeper appreciation for what we are a part of.

Flute and voice: Lisa
Guitar: Mike
Nyckelharpa and tambourine: Ingemar
Bohdran and bones: Rick

3. Old Testament Sky – Michael John Sullivan

Paddy Moloney of the Chieftains once described the Irish air as the Celtic equivalent to the American blues. Both forms convey a sweet sadness around a theme of separation and loneliness. Old Testament Sky combines these forms and searches for meaning in heartbreaking loss.

She is leaving, she’s gone
There was no warning
There was no sign
She has left us, she’s gone

The snow is falling in empty drifts
As the leaves still cling to the trees
A solitary pine stands as ravens cry
In the lonesome rush of a winter’s breeze
There’s an Old Testament sky
It’s cold and harsh and unforgiving
Mindlessly, sleepwalking, feet bare, eyes down, hearts closed
Some call this living

It’s a crossfire of faith and doubt
Do you ever wonder will it all work out?
It’s a crossfire some rise some fall
Does it really matter? Does it matter after all?

The parade of pseudo-selves march the daily compromise
In a rhythm out of time
Sixteen children with saxophone faces line the street, sing the blues
And mourn their future lives of crime
Is there a message in this madness?
Or is there a gentle hand guiding all these things
Is it a dice roll? You know, craps on a cosmic level
Inciting violence and desperate dreams

Crossfire faith and doubt
Do really think it will all work out
Crossfire some rise some fall
Crossfire faith and doubt
Do you really think, do you really think
It will all work out
Does it matter after all

Suddenly you feel the wind on your face
And hear your name called in the sky
You look up, see the fire burning feel the heat
Turn your head, walk away and you start to cry
Is this the promise that suffering will set us free
Or is it my imagination?
I need a witness (I need a witness)
Someone with faith that can bring relief
And end this endless anticipation

Crossfire faith and doubt
Do really think it will all work out
Crossfire some rise, some fall
Crossfire faith and doubt
Do you really think, do you really think
It will all work out
Does it matter after all?

Crossfire faith and doubt
Do really think it will all work out
Crossfire some rise some fall
Crossfire faith and doubt
Do you really think, do you really think
It will all work out
Does it matter after all
Does it matter after all
Does it matter after all

Crossfire faith and doubt
Do really think it will all work out

Guitar and lead vocal: Mike
Nyckelharpa, intro vocal and backup vocal (intro): Ingemar
Alto flute and backup vocal: Lisa
Percussions and backup vocal: Rick

4. Haggis – Traditional adapted by Lisa Johansson

This Scottish tune was found some years ago in an old collection given to me by a great local fiddler and it stirred the McPike blood of my Grandmothers in me as I familiarized myself with it. A friend, a fine Scotswoman, passed on this Robert Burns poem as well a recipe for this Scottish delicatessen of sheep’s parts and grains. Although a shepherd a few years back, I never made the dish.

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face
Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak your place
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Wee; are ue wordy of a grace
As lang’s my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o’ need,
While thor’ your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see Rustic-labour dight,
An’ cut you up wi’ ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrail bright
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn they stretch an’ strive,
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes believe
Are bent like drums;
Tehn auld Guidsman, maist like to rive.
Bethankit hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi’ perfect sconner,
Looks down wi’ sneering, scronful’ view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! See him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither’d rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro’ bluidy flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He’ll mak it whissle;
An’ legs, an’ arms, an’ heads will sned,
Like taps o’ thrissle.

Ye Pow’s wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o’ fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae shinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, it you wish her gratefu’ pray’r,
Gie her a Haggis!

Flute: Lisa
Guitar: Ingemar
Mandolin: Mike
Bodhran, African Bell: Rick

5. Bossman Joe – Michael John Sullivan

Sometimes in life we end up in a one down position. This song is an anthem for those who feel oppressed and is intended to offer hope in times of despair. It also features the bullwhip, long absent from folk music since the song Rawhide, designed to add snap to one’s convictions.

I’m talkin’ bout the bossman
Bossman Joe
Talkin’ bout the bossman

Bossman Joe got a hold on me
Bossman Joe got a hold on me

I once was young and stood so free
Till Bossman Joe got a hold on me
With lies and promises I was mislead
I believed what the Bossman said

Bossman Joe’s got a hold on me
Bossman Joe’s got a hold on me
With lies and promises I was mislead
I believed what the Bossman said

Well he had a whip and he had a chain
He left me crying in the cold, cold rain
With an alligator smile and shotgun call
He cut me down just to watch me crawl

Bossman Joe’s got a hold on me
Bossman Joe’s got a hold on me
With an alligator smile and shotgun call
He cut me down just to watch me crawl

Well I was humbled and I was weak
I’d keep me head down and hardly speak
He’d beat my body and kick me ‘round
I was whipped and stripped but I wouldn’t stay down

Bossman Joe’s got a hold on me
Bossman Joe’s got a hold on me
He’d beat my body and kick me ’round
I was whipped and stripped but I wouldn’t stay down

Bossman bossman bossman Joe

I’m gonna snap these shackles and I’ll be free
In the land of milk and honey is where I’ll be
I’m gonna leave bossman Joe behind
Cause freedom’s not a place it’s a state of mind

Bossman Joe had a hold on me
Bossman Joe had a hold on me
Now the sky is big and the sun does shine
Since I left bossman Joe behind

Guitar and lead vocal: Mike
Guitar and backup vocal: Ingemar
African Bell and backup vocal: Lisa
Bodhran and backup vocal: Rick

6. Amberetta – Ingemar Johansson

When I picked up my first nyckelharpa, just a few years ago, its beautiful body and intricate string and key system mesmerized me. When I heard it’s first note, I was taken back to the world where I grew up and to its music and the roots of my musical passions. The tunes come out of my head, embracing me like old familiar patterns, although I have never heard them before. This is one: A polska is in the Swedish dance tradition.

Nyckelharpa: Ingemar
Flutes and voice: Lisa
Guitar: Mike
Bodhran: Rick

7. Poets Say – Michael John Sullivan

This song was written for my beautiful niece Deirdre and is the true story of her courtship with her husband Jeff. It salutes perseverance and celebrates the joy of love.

Another letter on the table
To that same south Texas town
Somewhere on the sunshine coast
Is where his truelove can be found
It was Christmas at the Stable
When they met and from the start
He knew she was someone special
With a kindness that would rule his heart

Is it true what the poets say?
Good things come to those who wait
And love will find a way

Late at night she read his letters
That he’d send most every day
She would laugh at his jokes
And the funny things he had to say
Then she’d stop and think of him
How they met on that first night
Dinner at the One Eyed Moose
And the country-dance
Where he held her tight

Is it true what the poets say?
Good things come to those who wait
And love will find a way

She had a timeless beauty and a twinkle in her eyes
Everyday was an adventure
Every moment a surprise
With him she found someone different
That she’s never known before
He had a gentle spirit
The kind she’s been waiting for

In the spring came the answer
That he’s been hoping for
She would leave that Texas town
To be with him forever more
As they spend their lives together
The love they share will celebrate
All the joy that comes from knowin’
That good things come to those who wait

Yes it’s true
What the poets say
Good things come to those who wait
And love will find a way

Guitar and lead vocal: Mike
Steel pedal guitar: Jerry Hendrix
Penny whistle and backup vocal: Lisa
Mandolin, electric bass and backup vocal: Ingemar
Snare drum: Rick

8. Montreux – Michael John Sullivan

Our trips to Montreux, Switzerland have been magical. The winding flowered promenade borders Lake Geneva nestled in the Alps. At night the moon hangs low and reflects across the water forming a “moonstreet” inviting lovers as they walk in the cool evening breeze. Muffled music from the festival glides across the water. This scene demanded a song and features the beautifully blended voices of Montreux sisters, Diane and Noemie de Ribaupierre.

Cool summer breeze whispers, fog and candle light
In sweet Montreux there’s a place where lovers go
Hand in hand down the Promenade
Deep in their hearts a silent love

Soft music flows drifts across the moon soaked lake
Hushed muted tones shimmer crack and then they break
Slip beneath the watery veil a melody
Lovers know so well

Lonely am I sadly watch the lovers pass
Thinking of you longing for our love to last
In this world we want so much it’s love we feel
But can never touch

Seul et triste je regarde les amoureux
pensant – toi et je tiens – notre amour
dans ce monde on veut tellement
on resent l’amour mais jamais
on ne le prend…on ne le prend

Lead vocal: Diane Derib and Noemi Derib
Guitar: Mike
Flute: Lisa
Udu: Ingemar
Shaker: Rick

9. Castle Kelly/Coleraine – Traditional adapted by Lisa Johansson

We last left Castle Kelly on Horndance, slowly exiting the stage as a grown stag retreating to the woods for a long cool nap. Seven years later, the tune resurfaces as a springboard to new adventures, full of twists and turns, making it’s way from an air into a reel into an Ian Anderson inspired interlude, concluding with a jig…where did that deer go?

Flute: Lisa
Mandolin: Ingemar
Guitar: Mike
Bodhran: Rick

10. Maddy Groves – Traditional adapted by Michael John Sullivan

This is our rendition of the – traditional folk ballad, first collected by Francis James Child in the mid nineteenth century and involves a timeless story of a lovers triangle, deception, sexual selection, competition and fatal conflict. – We tried to heighten the drama of this morality story with by incorporating a reel, jig and air to capture the spirit of the duel and Lord Donals grief.

A holy day a holiday and the best day of the year
When Maddy Groves went to church the gospel for to hear

Now the first to come down was dressed in red, the second one dressed in green
And the third to come down was Lord Daniel’s wife as fair as any queen
And when the meeting it was done she cast her eyes about
There she saw little Maddy Groves as he moved among the crowd

Come home with me little Maddy Groves come home with me tonight
Come home with me little Maddy Groves and stay with me till light
Well I won’t go home, I can’t go home and stay with you tonight
by the rings on your finger I can tell you are Lord Daniels wife

Very true I am Lord Daniel’s wife but Lord Daniel is not home
He’s gone away to the far cornfields and he’s bringing the yearlings home
And the little foot page that was standing by hearing what was said
Well he swore Lord Daniel shall know of this before he goes to bed

He had fourteen miles to go that night and seven of them he ran
He ran until the Brookmill stream then he took of his shoes and he swam
Lord Daniel said if the truth you speak a rich man you will be
But if a lie you tell to me I’ll hang you to a tree

He called himself up thirty good man he called them with a free good will
Then he popped his bugle onto his lips and he blew it loud and shrill
Now little Maddy Groves he laid down to take a little sleep
But when he awoke Lord Daniels was a-standing by his feet

Get up, get up you naked man and put you on some clothes
For I don’t intend for to have it said a naked man I slew
Well I won’t get up, I can’t get up I won’t get up for my life
For you have to fine fighting swords and I but a pocket knife

Very true I have fine fighting swords and they cost me deep in the purse
You shall have the best of them and I shall take the worst
And you will strike the very first blow and strike it like a man
For I will strike the very next blow and I’ll kill you if I can

Well little Maddy Groves struck the very first blow and he hit Lord Daniel sore
Lord Daniel struck the very next blow and little Maddy struck no more
Then Lord Daniel turned to his wife and he sat her on his knee
Tell me who do you love the best of us little Maddy Groves or me

Then up spoke his own dear wife never heard to speak so free
I’d rather a kiss from dead Maddy’s lips then you or your finery
A grave, a grave Lord Daniel cried to put these lovers in
But bury my lady at the top for she was of noble kin

A holy day a holiday and the best day of the year
When Maddy Groves went to church the gospel for to hear

Guitar and lead vocal: Mike
Flute and backup vocal: Lisa
Mandolin and backup vocal: Ingemar
Bodhran: Rick