Jack in the Green 2017
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Jack In The Green and Other Heroes A collection of songs by Martin Graebe All song texts, music, notes and other matter are copyright © Martin Graebe (dates as given individually) unless otherwise stated in the notes to the songs. Published by Greenjack Publications, 59 Roberts Close, Cirencester, Gloucestershire, GL7 2RP Jack in the Green and other heroes A collection of songs by Martin Graebe A Sailor's Farewell Harry The Hawker A Hunting Song Harriet Lane Peter's Private Army Honiton Lace The Shropshire Union The Great Galleon of Plymouth Jack in the Green Newton Fair Eight Set's Song The Lavender Express From Severn, by the Somme November Drinking Song Stonecracker John Daniel's Ducks The Chorus Song The King of the Light-Finger Gentry The Knocker-up Woman The Singing Story Man Laying My Life on the Line The Road to Hell A few (more) words ………. In May 1978 I published a collection of my songs under the title 'The Singing Story Man'. That publication was a mix of hand-writing, drawings and Letraset - leading edge technology for the 70's. It sold steadily for many years and only a fragile few of that first collection are left. People asked me whether I was going to do it again and the answer was always ‘Someday!’ That day arrived in 1999. The technology was different but it was still my own work - with a lot of help from my family and friends. Some years ago I decided to make all my songs freely available on the internet and now, in 2017, I have re-created this book electronically for a revised and simplified version of the website. This is my own selection of the songs that I have written over more than forty years and includes all of those that have made it into other peoples repertoires. It has been a great pleasure to me that other people have wanted to sing my songs – even when they don’t know they have done so! It has also been a great surprise that some of them have endured so well. The whole business of song- writing remains as much of a mystery to me today as it always was - I don't know why songs come and to feel one take shape is sometimes a very strange experience. Talking with other writers I know I am not alone in feeling that it is not a process over which one has any real control. If these songs mean something to you and you want to sing them then that will make me very happy. You do not need my permission, which you'd be given in any case. If you should happen to record one I'd love to hear about it. Otherwise just enjoy them! Martin Graebe July 2017 A Sailor's Farewell Martin Graebe 3 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ & 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ As I sailed from the pier-head one day last Ju ly, Pret-ty Nan-cy came down for to wave me good- ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ & œ œ œ œ œ bye, 'Dear John - ny' she cried as my boat slipped from ˙ œ œ œ œ œ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ shore, 'I'm a - fraid that I may nev - er see you no more' As I sailed from the pierhead one day last July Pretty Nancy came down for to wave me goodbye ‘Dear Johnny,’ she cried,as my boat slipped from shore ‘I’m afraid that I may never see you no more’ But as my boat faded to the size of a pin My cards they read 'lose' to another man’s ‘win’ When the boatman cried out ‘Come in number eleven’ I found she’d run off with a farmer from Devon So if you go sailing on Regent’s Park Lake Just list to my song boys, don’t make my mistake Or when your boat is safe from the shore hid She’ll prove faithless to you - just like my Nancy did I did spend a few weeks one summer holiday when I was a student living and working in central London and we would take a boat out on Regents Park Lake most evenings - I never saw any lost sailors though. Copyright © Martin Graebe 1971 Harry the Hawker Martin Graebe bb3 ™ & 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ Old Har-ry the Haw-ker is dead No more will he bring his boot-hooks and lac - es and bb œ ™ Œ & ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ fan - cy goods from for eign pla- ces old Har - ry the Haw-ker is dead Final chorus bb & ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ ˙ œ Jokes andsmiles and songs andsnatch - es rib-bions and sash-es and need-les and pins and lamps and cand - les, bb & ˙ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ Knives and forks and boot-hooks and lac - es and fan - cy goods from bb œ ™ Œ & œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ œ ˙ œ œ œ œ œ ˙ ˙ for reign pla - ces Old Har - ry the Haw -ker is dead 1 Old Harry the Hawker is dead 3 No more will he bring his lamps and candles No more will he bring his boot-hooks and laces In holders of brass with graven handles And fancy goods from foreign places Old Harry the Hawker is dead 4 No more will he bring his needles and pins In penny packets and twopenny tins 2 Old Harry the Hawker is dead No more will he bring his knives and forks 5 No more will he bring his ribbons and sashes ….The finest Sheffield cutler's works To brighten our hearts with their colourful splashes Old Harry the Hawker is dead Knives and forks and boot-hooks and laces 6 No more will he bring his songs and snatches And fancy goods from foreign places His frisky jigs and his cheerful catches Old Harry the Hawker is dead 7 Old Harry the Hawker is dead Continue, using the following middle sections No more will he bring his jokes and smiles until the final verse, adding the words in Collected along England's many fair miles bold type to the beginning of each chorus Old Harry the Hawker is dead Jokes and smiles and songs and snatches, ribbons and sashes And needles and pins and lamps and candles, knives and forks And boot-hooks and laces and fancy goods from foreign places Old Harry the Hawker is dead This was the first of my songs to be recorded by a ‘major folk artist’ when Martyn Wyndham-Read chose it as the title track for his 1973 album. Like many of the early songs it was written to fill a gap in my repertoire - I wanted a cumulative song. I still enjoy singing about Harry. One of the reasons for that enjoyment is the constant danger of forgetting what comes next in the chorus each time. Copyright © 1972 Martin Graebe A Hunting Song Martin Graebe #6 œ œ œ œ & 8 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ 'Twas last Box - ing Day morn -ing, the rude hunt - ing horn did break in - to my drink sod - den # j œ œ œ œ & œ œ™ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ slum-ber. So I threw off my sheets,put my shoes on my feet and out in - to the streets I did # j j & œ œ™ ‰ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ œ lum - ber. Where,down at the cast - le, I joined in the bust - le, all watch-ing the soc - ial el - # œ™ œ œ œ œ & œ J œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ™ ite Who in crim-son and leath-er had all come to - geth - er to join in the Box-ing Day Meet. 1 'Twas last Boxing Day morning, the rude hunting horn 4 Willie let out a shriek and leapt onto his bike Did break into my drink-sodden slumber And he peddled towards the horizon So I threw off my sheets, put my shoes on my feet But he'd leapt on the rear from where he couldn't steer And out into the streets I did lumber When he crashed it was hardly surprising Where down at the castle I joined in the bustle Just then from the bush came the hounds in a rush All watching the social elite 'Till in fox hounds our William wallowed Who in crimson and leather had all come together Willie took to his heels, the fox fled for the fields, To join in the Boxing Day Meet 'Twas my fast running friend the pack followed 2 I stopped in for a gin at the old Castle Inn 5 Now you may well wonder, at this canine blunder Where I met my good friend Willie Brandon But the scent they no more could discern-o We conceived a plan that we'd join in the van You see in the jostle they'd broke Willie's bottle And go follow the hunt on his tandem And our Willie's weakness was Pernod So each bought a bottle and off we did wobble The hunt had good sport but when Willie was caught With William doing the steering He avowed foreign liquors too risky But our chase was in vain since we stuck to the lane Since that Boxing Day meet he has been more discrete, And the hunt soon passed out of our hearing Now he never drinks nothing but whisky 3 We stopped for a breath and a drop of refreshment The day being dry, warm and clear And we sat on the bank and we talked and we drank And we toasted the coming new year When back to our ears came the barks and the cheers And the usual old clatter and racket We paid no heed at all 'till the fox jumped the wall And fell right into William's jacket I really did set out to write a serious song about fox-hunting - honest! It's just that it got subverted along the way Copyright © 1975 Martin Graebe The Singing Story Man Martin Graebe Freely bb2 j œ œ œ œ œ œ & 4 œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ There was a man came to our town, he looked a - long, he looked a- round,and then he laid his bb œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ™ j œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ œ ™ & œ œ œ œ œ œ œ #œ œ bag-gage down and he be-gan to sing.