CD2.

All lyrics by Mike Scott & published by Sony ATV Music except, where otherwise stated.

IN SEARCH OF A ROSE (alternate version)

Where will I wander and wonder?
Nobody knows
but wherever I'm going I'll go
in search of a rose

Whatever the will of the weather
and whether it shines or snows
wherever I'm going I'll go
in search of a rose

I don't know where it's found
but I don't mind
as long as the world spins around
I'll take my time

I may follow the fellow who fiddles
I may put on a merchant's clothes
but wherever I'm going I'll go
in search of a rose

I don't know where I'm bound
Oh, and I don't care
As long as the world spins around
I'll be there!

I'll savour the softness of summer
I'll wrap up when winter blows
and wherever I'm going I'll go
in search of a rose

MY MORAG (THE EXILE’S DREAM) Traditional

Fair is my Morag, my maiden, my Morag
my tender young Morag that lives in yon glen
I dream of my Morag, dream-wander wi' Morag
where leaps the brown burn from the mist on the ben
where leaps the brown burn from the mist on the ben

Sweet as hill water, cool waters, hill waters
my maiden, my Morag, asleep in yon glen
and cool as the water, like the rush of a river
comes this dream to my hot heart, parch'd dry as the plain
this dream to my hot heart, parch'd dry as the plain

For fair is my Morag, my maiden, my Morag
my lovely young Morag that lives in yon glen
and dreaming of Morag, dream-wand'ring wi' Morag
I hear the stream sing again beneath the cold ben
I hear the stream sing again beneath the cold ben

A MAN IS IN LOVE (alternate version)

A man is in love
How do I know?
He came a walk with me
and he told me so
in a song he sang
and then I knew
A man is in lovewith you

A man is in love
How did I hear?
I heard him talk too much
whenever you're near
He called your name
when his eyes were closed
A man is in loveand he knows

A man is in love
How did I guess?
I figured it out while he was
watching you dress
He'd give you his all
if you'd but agree
A man is in loveand he's me

THE WYNDY WYNDY ROAD Lyrics by Mike Scott, Copyright Control

You’ll be sure and let me know whenever you go
how’s the travelling and who’s on the road
When you wish upon a star wherever you are
keep me in your mind and I won’t be far

Blow on the wyndy wyndy road
blow wind, like you never blew before
blow on the one I long to know
guide her way, wind, with every breath you blow

Anytime or anywhere, however you fare
send me the word in an hour I’ll be there
Yes and if you settle down, forever I’ll be bound
to come at your call if you need a friend around

Blow on the wyndy wyndy road…

I’ll be waiting here for you if ever you do
change your mind after thinking it through
you know I will abide by whatever you decide
but one of these days I’m gonna be by your side

Blow on the wyndy wyndy road…

SUNNY SAILOR BOY

On a day of daysI stood and gazed
over the western sea
I was completely dazed,wide-mouthed and amazed
when a mermaid called to me

Oh-wo-oh-wo-oh
Oh-wo-oh-wo-oh-wo
My sunny sailor boy

Like a man in a dreamfor an age it seemed
I stood as still as a stone
while the creature sangand her melody rang
like a memory calling me home

Oh-wo-oh-wo-oh…

Then the sea and the windand the shore did spin
and though my resistance was strong
all the stars of spacefilled the mermaid's face
as she captured my will with her song

Oh-wo-oh-wo-oh…

Somehow I spoke, the enchantment broke
I rubbed my eyes open wide
Like a dream she was gone, all that remained was a song
borne on the ebbing tide

Oh-wo-oh-wo-oh…

SPONSORED PEDAL PUSHER’S BLUES

There’s a slogan on my shoulder
there’s a logo on my leg
a trade mark on my mudguard
and another on my head
brand names on my bicycle
“Bank Of Ireland” on my butt
I’m a fine figure of a man
if you keep your eyes shut

I’ve had my hour of glory
now I’m just confused
this here’s my story
sponsored pedal pusher’s blues

They’re putting me on posters
they’re a-hangin’ me on walls
I’m the smiling face of Irish cheese
I don’t know myself at all
but if somebody makes an offer
there’s a fair to likely chance
you’ll see me with a sandwich board
at next year’s Tour De France

I’ve had my hour of glory…

Now come all you lucky dreamers
with stardom in your sights
there’s a lot of hard work upon the road
before you hit the lights
I wish you good adventure
and I wish you good health
but take a tip from one who knows
and don’t ever sell yourself

for after all the glory
you’ll wind up being used
this was my story
the sponsored pedal pusher’s blues

THE WAYWARD WIND Lebowsky & Newman. Lafleur Music Ltd

In a lonesome shack on the railroad track
I spent my younger days
and I guess the sound of the outward bound
made me a slave
to my wand’ring ways

And the wayward wind is a restless wind
a restless wind that yearns to wander
and I was born next of kin
the next of kin to the wayward wind

I met her down in a border town
we swore we’d never part
and though I tried my best to settle down
now she’s all alone
with a broken heart

And the wayward wind…

And the wayward wind is a restless wind
a restless wind that yearns to wander
and I was born next of kin
almost a twin to the wayward wind
the next of kin to the wayward, wayward wind

DANNY MURPHY Poem by James Stephens (1925)

He was as old as old can be
his little eye could scarely see
the mouth was sunken in between
his nose and chin and he was lean
and twisted up and withered so
he could hardly come and go

His pipe was always going out
and then he’d have to search about
in all his pockets with a sigh
“dearie me, my oh my”
and then he’d light his pipe and then
he’d let it go clean out again

He could not dance or jump or run
or ever have a piece of fun
like me and Susan when we shout
and leap and throw ourselves about
but when he laughed then you could see
he was as young as young can be

THE RAGGLE TAGGLE GYPSY Traditional

There was three ould gypsies came to our hall door
They came brave and boldly-o
and the one sang high and the other sang low
the other sang a raggle taggle gypsy-o

It was upstairs, downstairs the lady went
put on her suit of leather-o
and there was a cry fae around the door
"She's away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o"

It was late that night when the lord came in
enquiring for his lady-o
and the servant girl she said to the lord
"She's away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o"

"Saddle for me my big white horse
My brown horse is not speedy-o
and I will ride till I seek my bride
She's away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o"

Now he rode East and he rode West
He rode South in an old string vest
until he came to a wide open plain
It was there that he spied his lady-o

“Tell me how could you leave your goose-feather bed
your blankets strewn so comely-o
and how could you leave your only wedded lord
all for a raggle taggle gypsy-o?"

"Yerra what care I for my goose feather bed
blankets strewn so comely-o?
Tonight I lie in a wide open field
in the arm of a raggle taggle gypsy-o"

"Tell me how could you leave your house and your land?
How could you leave your money-o?
How could you leave your only wedded lord
all for a raggle taggle gypsy-o?"

"Well what care I for my house and my land?
What care I for my money-o?
I'd rather hae a kiss from the yellow gypsy's lips
I'm away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o!"

CUSTER’S BLUES

You look just like General Custer
on the day of his last stand
heading up into the Black Hills
glorious and grand
A sword by your side
a map in your hand
heading up into the rain
singing this land is my land

I've seen your dust a-rising
and I’ve seen your numbers swell
I’ve seen you crossing the bad lands
towing your line to hell
I've watched you while you're sleeping
I’ve seen you filling up your can
singing as you work
this land is my land

You're busting into my country
messing up my fields
playing games in my holy places
tearing the earth with your wheels
right now your star is ascending
and your head is busting with pride
but I wonder if Custer was still singing
this land is my land when he died?

Was he singing when he died?

TWA RECRUITIN’ SERGEANTS Traditional

It's over the mountain and over the main
through Gibralter tae France and tae Spain
Put a feather in yer bunnet, a kilt upon yer knee
Enlist, bonnie laddie and come awa' wi' me!

Twa' recruitin' sergeants come frae the Black Watch
tae merkits and fairs some recruits for to catch
but a' they've enlisted is forty and twa'
so 'list, bonnie laddie, come, come awa'

It's over the mountain...

Oh laddie dae ye ken o' the danger you're in
if yer horse breaks his leg or yer midden fa's in
Yon greely old fermer, he widna' pay yer fee
so 'list, bonnie laddie, come awa' wi' me

It's intae the barn and oot o' the byre
Yon greely auld fermer thinks you're never tired
It's a slavery job of lowly degree
so 'list, bonnie laddie, come awa' wi' me

It's over the mountain...

Oh laddie dae ye hae a sweethert at hame?
If she kens you're afraid, will she no' be ashamed?
You'll be back at her breast in no time at a'
so 'list, bonnie laddie, come, come awa'

It's over the mountain and over the main
through Gibralter tae France and tae Spain
Put a feather in yer bunnet, a kilt upon yer knee
Enlist, bonnie laddie and come awa' wi' me!

bunnet: hat
midden: rubbish tip
byre: shed for cows or horses

DOWN BY THE SALLY GARDENS W.B. Yeats. AP Watt & Co.

Down by the Sally Gardens my love and I did meet
She passed the Sally Gardens with little snow-white feet
She begged me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the trees
But I was young and foolish, with her did not agree.

In a field down by the river my love and I did stand
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand
She begged me take life easy as the grass grows on the weirs
Ah, but I was young and foolish and now I am full of tears
And now I am full of tears

A SONG FOR THE LIFE Rodney Crowell. House of Bryant Publications

Well, I don’t drink as much as I used to
‘cause lately it just ain’t my style
and the hard times don’t hurt like they ought to
they pass quicker like when I was a child

And somehow I’ve learned how to listen
to a sound like the sun going down
in the magic that morning is bringing
there’s a song for the life I have found
it keeps my feet on the ground

Now the midsummer’s days ain’t so heavy
they just blow like a breeze through my mind
and nothing appears in a hurry
and it makes up for some old lost time

and somehow I’ve learned how to listen
to a sound like the sun going down
in the magic that morning is bringing
there’s a song for the friend I have found
she keeps my feet on the ground