'Neathy Songs

This doesn’t exist, but it should. I’ll start:

&quotOld Black Rum&quot (traditional, adapted)

I drank sixteen doubles for the price of one
Trying to find the courage to talk to the one
I asked her for a dance - not a second glance
My night had just begun

Well I’ll drink to Hell and to the Holy Ghost
I’m kneeling at the altar of the deep Zee coast
So let’s raise a glass, not the first nor last
Come join me in this toast (Cheers!)

CHORUS:
Because the old black rum’s got a hold on me
Like a dog wrapped round my leg
And the old black rum’s got a hold on me
Will I live for another day?
Oh, will I live for another day?

Well the queen of Hollow street just went walking on by
Walking on by with some guy who don’t care
That she stood in line since half past nine
And spent three hours on her hair (Then it rained!)

Well her friend is looking at me with an evil grin
I think a bloody racket might soon begin
I must have said some thing to the Hollow street queen
And the boys are joining in

CHORUS x2

So I drank all of my money and I slept out in the rain
Every bar is different but Veils’ girls they’re all the same
You know your days are done on the old black rum
But I know I’m gonna do it again (Cheers!)

CHORUS x2

And I drank sixteen doubles for the price of one… (Ooh, my head!)


With thanks to the artist in whose voice I imagine this, for introducing me to the song.
edited by Vefessh on 3/2/2014
edited by Vefessh on 12/24/2015 [Fixed an error in meter that’s been nagging at me.]

edited by Vefessh on 12/24/2015

Do we have a thread dedicated to Neath-i-cizing old sea shanties and drinking songs yet? (That was wonderful, by the way!)[li]
edited by Snowskeeper on 3/1/2014

I don’t think we do - I looked around before posting here.

[li]
Perhaps we could adapt this thread to that purpose, with a quick name-change, hmm? No need to inform the courts.

Done!

I recently wrote a ballad that sounded agreeable to my mates, and felt this would be another great place to share it.

Here’s to life,
Eteeeernal life
Livin’ till your old and tired,
Livin’ till your hearts expired

And here’s to sanity
Howe’er fleeting it may be
Till you find yourself again
Sleeping at the Royal Bethlehem

And here’s to jail
Hell, who hasn’t e’er found himself in need of bail?
And who can say they haven’t met a mate
Locked away behind a sturdy gate?

And here’s to scandal
For when things get too hot to handle
Someone else comes along
With a new tune or song
And we start it all over again.
(Repeat Ad Nauseam)

Admittedly, the last verse could use a bit of work, but by the time most people get to that part they’re drunk enough that a bad lyrics sounds as fine as a good one. We played a game in which we all put up 20 Rostygold, took a drink after each verse, and whoever was the last one standing got the lot.
[li]

plays chord on harmonica

Oohhhhhhhh,

Sing me a song of the Neath, my friends.
Sing me a song of home.
A song of drinks and a bar to tend,
a song of the Zee we roam.

For these salt-caked bones grow weary.
And my back is feeling old.
Oh sing me a song to cheer me, lads.
And burn away the cold.

Remember the waves a rolling, lads.
And the false stars shining bright.
Remember the clubs of the neddy cads.
When you go defend your rights.

We’ll fight for glim and rostygold.
We’ll fight them standing tall.
We’ll fight them 'til our blood runs cold,
if it still flows at all.

For what is death to Neathy men
strong of both heart and mind?
Who beat death at its game and then
come back for one more time?

Oh,
Sing me a song of the Neath, my friends,
Sing me a song of home.
A song of drinks and a bar to tend,
A song of the Zee we roam.
edited by dismallyOriented on 3/6/2014

After quite a bit of last-minute editing; I’ve finally gotten a new password and get to post what I made about two weeks ago in light of the Feast of the Rose event!

           &quot For in these deep and darkened days

Very little shall be left to fate
Either absinthe-sober, or in honey daze
Love not the opposite of hate

              You’ve done me long

You did me wrong
My darling dear
And now you ought to fear

              For where my heart beat;

No longer on my sleeve
Perhaps where it should be
As I take my solemn leave

              But no,

That is not so
When you called me second rate
So now I’ll take your heart
On a glistening silver plate.&quot
[li]

Thanks for posting these Neathy Songs!

I was inspired to write a tune for a snippet I came across in a sidebar.

I sang it on YouTube if you would like to see: https://youtu.be/_3r0pQekRuw

What do the zailors zing?

Oh gather round me bully boys
And I’ll zing you a zong
Of the windless waveless sunless Zee
Where the mouldy drownies throng

Here’s to the girls of Mr Veils
Here’s to their golden locks
Here’s to a fight in the moonish light
Under the Wolfstack docks.

Some dream of sun and rain and sky
And the true wind in their zails
Us Neathy tars won’t swap the stars
For the girls of Mr Veils!

(from ‘Neathy Songs’)

not sure if any one still looks at this but i found one on the thingy bar.

Mountains of Cheese

Where will ye go, oh my bold ratty lad?
To the docks, or the Flit or the Zees?
I’m off to the larder of Sir Stanley Smyth
For to fight for the mountains of cheese!

I’m off for the gold and I’m off for the lass
Who ties pretty bows on her knees
And I’m off for the glory, I’m off for the fame
And the mountains, the mountains of cheese!

I’m called by the fife and I’m called by the drum
We’ll fight for whomever we please
For devils for brass, for the Empress’ coin
And for mountains, for mountains of cheese!

There’s some go by cart and there’s some go by ship
And some live in shroomstacks with fleas
I’ll take a box, and a postbag without locks
To send me to the mountains of cheese!

[quote=davidstrife]not sure if any one still looks at this but i found one on the thingy bar.

Mountains of Cheese

Where will ye go, oh my bold ratty lad?
To the docks, or the Flit or the Zees?
I’m off to the larder of Sir Stanley Smyth
For to fight for the mountains of cheese!

I’m off for the gold and I’m off for the lass
Who ties pretty bows on her knees
And I’m off for the glory, I’m off for the fame
And the mountains, the mountains of cheese!

I’m called by the fife and I’m called by the drum
We’ll fight for whomever we please
For devils for brass, for the Empress’ coin
And for mountains, for mountains of cheese!

There’s some go by cart and there’s some go by ship
And some live in shroomstacks with fleas
I’ll take a box, and a postbag without locks
To send me to the mountains of cheese![/quote]

I’ve translated it into Russian, if somebody interested.

[i]Будет путь наш далек, мой крысиный дружок,
Я всегда к приключеньям готов,
Через Спайт, через Флит, где живет старый Смит,
И на гору, на гору сыров!

Будем мы воровать, будем мы убивать
За девчонок, чей зад будь здоров,
За деньгу в кошельках и за славу в веках,
И за гору, за гору сыров!

Разрази меня гром, укуси меня гном,
Выйду драться хоть с сотней котов,
Хоть за адскую медь, хоть за графскую честь,
Хоть за гору, за гору сыров!

Кто вприпрыжку бежит, кто в подвале сидит
И проводит всю жизнь средь клопов,
Ну а мы на почтамт, украдем старый штамп,
И в посылке - на гору сыров![/i]

Молот, это шикарно!

It kinda does. To wit: https://community.failbettergames.com/topic25262-zhanties.aspx