Songs

God Save The King

God save our gracious King.
Long live our noble King.
God save the King.
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us.
God save the King.

O Lord our God arise.
Scatter his enemies,
And make them fall.
Confound their politics,
Frustrate their knavish tricks.
On thee our hopes we fix.
God save us all.

The choicest gifts in store.
On him be pleased to pour,
Long may he reign.
May he defend our laws,
And ever give us cause,
To sing with heart and voice,
God save the King.

 

Gary Owen

1. Let Bacchus’ sons be not dismayed
But join me with a jovial blade
Come, booze and sing and lend me aid,
To help me with the chorus

Chorus:
Instead of spa we’ll drink down ale
and pay the reckoning on the nail
for debt no man shall go to jail
from Gary Owen in glory

2. We are the boys who take delight
In smashin the lomerick lamps at night
And through the street like sporters fight,
Tearing all before us

3. We’ll break the windows, We’ll break down doors,
the watch knock down by threes and fours,
Then let the doctors work their cures
And tinker up our bruised.

4. We’ll beat the ballifs out of fun,
We’ll make the mayors and sheriffs run,
We are the boys no man dare dun,
If he regards a whole skin.

5. Our hearts so stout have gave us fame,
For soon ’tis known whence where we came,
Where’er we go the dread the name,
Of Gary Owen in Glory.

 

A Roving

(1st NJV verses by Pvt. Jack aka “The Giggler”)

The Continentals formed a line.
Way, hey a roving.
The Continentals formed a line.
Mark well what I do say.
The Continentals formed a line, then ran away from Brandywine.
I‘ll go no more a roving with you fair maid.

A roving, a roving, since roving’s been my rue-I-aye,
I‘ll go no more a roving with you fair maid.

George Washington he wears a frown,
‘cause he lost the house at Germantown

We are so loyal to our King
And that is why we love to sing,

We Redcoats don’t like marching fast
But once we’re there we’ll have a blast.

We follow our officers here and there
Oh even when they don’t know where.

the doodles think that we are nuts
and yet we mostly kick their butts.

Major likes the war I hear
`cause first we fight and then drink bear.

We always have shiny brass
Or Sgt. Major kicks our ass.


British Grenadiers

Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules,
Of Hector and Lysander, and such great names as these,
But of all the world’s great heroes,
There’s none that can compare,
With a tow, row row row , row row row,
To the British Grenadiers.

None of these ancient heroes ne’er saw a cannon ball,
Nor knew the force of powder to slay their foes with all,
But our brave boys do know it and banish all their fears,
Sing tow, row row row , row row row,
For the British Grenadiers.

When e’er we are commanded to storm the palisades,
Our leaders march with fuses, and we with hand grenades;
We throw them from the glacis about the enemies’ ears,
Sing tow, row row row , row row row,
For the British Grenadiers.

And when the siege is over, we to the town repair.
The townsmen cry Hurrah, boys, here comes a Grenadier.
Here come the Grenadiers, my boys, who know no doubts or fears.
Sing tow, row row row , row row row,
For the British Grenadiers.

So let us fill a bumper, and drink a health to those,
Who carry caps and pouches, and wear the louped clouthes.
May they and their commanders live happy all their years.
Sing tow, row row row , row row row,
For the British Grenadiers.

Rule Brittania

1. When Britain first, at heaven’s command,
Arose from out the azure main,
Arose, arose, arose from out the azure main.
This was the charter, the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang the strain.

Rule Britannia!
Britannia rule the waves.
Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.

2. The nations not so blest as thee,
Must in their turn to tyrants fall,
Must in their turn, must in their turn,
To tyrants fall,
While thou shall flourish,
Shall flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.

Chorus.

3. Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful from each foreign stroke.
More dreadful, more dreadful
From each foreign stroke.
As the loud blast that tears the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.

Chorus.

4. Thee haughty tyrants ne’er shall tame,
All their attempts to bend thee down,
All their attempts, all their attempts
To bend thee down,
Will but arouse thy generous flame.
But work their woe and thy renown.

Chorus.

5. To thee belongs the rural reign,
Thy cities shall with commerce shine,
Thy cities shall, thy cities shall
With commerce shine.
All thine shall be the subject main,
And every shore it circles thine.

Chorus.

6. The muses still, with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair,
Shall to thy happy coast,
Thy happy coasts repair,
Best isle of beauty,
With matchless beauty crowned,
And manly hearts to guard the fair.

Chorus.

The Minstrel Boy

The minstrel boy to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you’ll find him;
His father’s sword he hath girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him;

“Land of Song!” cried the warrior bard,
(Should) “Tho’ all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!”

The Minstrel fell! But the foeman’s steel
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he lov’d ne’er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;

And said “No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and brav’ry!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery!

Men of Harlech

March ye men of Harlech bold, Unfurl your banners in the field,
Be brave as were your sires of old, And like them never yield!
What tho’ evry hill and dale, Echoes now with war’s alarms,
Celtic hearts can never quail, When Cambria calls to arms.

By each lofty mountain, By each crystal fountain,
By your homes where those you love Await your glad returning,
Let each thought and action prove, True glory can the Cymru move,
And as each blade gleams in the light, Pray “God defend the right!”

Clans from Mona wending, Now with Arvon blending,
Haste with rapid strides along The path that leads to glory,
From Snowdon’s hills with harp and song, And Nantlle’s vale proceeds a throng,
Whose ranks with yours shall proudly vie, “And nobly win or die!”

March ye men of Harlech go, Lov’d fatherland your duty claims,
Onward comes the Saxon foe, His footsteps mark’d in flames;
But his march breeds no dismay, Boasting taunts we meet with scorn,
Craven like their hosts shall flee Like mists before the morn.

On the foemen dashing, Swords and bucklers clashing;
Smite with will their savage band Nor think of e’er retreating:
But with a firm unflinching hand, In blood quench ev’ry burning brand,
And for each roof tree cast away A Saxon life shall pay.

Thus each bosom nerving, From no danger swerving,
Soon shall the invader feel The doom of fate rewarding;
They firmly grasp the flashing steel, And as ye strike for Cymru’s weal,
Be this your cry, till life’s last breath – “Our Liberty or Death!”

Fathom the Bowl

I’ll fathom the bowl, I’ll fathom the bowl
Give me the punch ladle, I’ll fathom the bowl

Come all you bold heroes, give an ear to my song
And well sing in the praise of good brandy and rum
There’s a clear crystal fountain near England shall roll
Give me the punch ladle, I’ll fathom the bowl

From France we do get brandy, from Jamaica comes rum
Sweet oranges and apples from Portugal come
But stout and strong cider are England’s control
Give me the punch ladle, I’ll fathom the bowl

My wife she do disturb me when I’m laid at my ease
She does as she likes and she says as she please
My wife, she’s a devil, she’s black as the coal
Give me the punch ladle, I’ll fathom the bowl

My father he do lie in the depths of the sea
With no stone at his head but what matters for he
There’s a clear crystal fountain, near England shall roll
Give me the punch ladle, I’ll fathom the bowl

Beer Beer Beer (Charlie Mopps)

A long time ago, way back in history,
When all they had to drink was nothing but cups of tea,
Along came a mane by the name of Charlie Mopps,
And he invented a wonderful drink and he made it out of hops

Chorus:
He might have been an Admiral,
a Sultan or a King
And to his praises we shall always sing.
Look what he has done for us: he’s filled us with cheer.
God bless Charlie Mopps, the man who invented beer beer beer tiddily beer beer beer

A barrel of malt a bucket of hops
and add some yeast
put it all together and let it ferment and swell
When it’s brewed and ready at 11 o’clock we’ll stop
for 5 short seconds we’ll remember Charlie Mopps

(Put your local pubs here)
At Carnsies and the Flat Iron
and Pickle Bill’s as well
One thing I can be sure of
It’s Charlie’s beer they sell
Some come along you lucky lads
at 11 o’clock we’ll stop
for 5 short seconds we’ll remember Charlie Mopps

Version 2

A long time ago, way back in history,
When all they had to drink was nothing but cups of tea,
Along came a man by the name of Charlie Mopps,
And he invented a wonderful drink and he made it out of hops (hops hops hops hops, etc)

Chorus:
He might have been an Admiral, a Sultan or a King
And to his praises we shall always sing.
Look what he has done for us: he’s filled our hearts with cheer.
God bless Charlie Mopps, the man who invented beer beer beer tiddily beer beer beer

When beer was first invented it was very very dear,
Fancy paying a chaser for a glorious glass of beer,
People of the day were foolish so they say,
They used to chew the hops and throw the beer away.

A bushel of hops, a barrel of malt, you stir it around with a stick
The sort of lubrication to make your engine tick
40 pints of wallop a day will keep away the quacks
It’s only fourpence ha’penny a pint and a shilling and tuppence in tax

Chorus:
He might have been an Admiral, a Sultan or a King
And to his praises we shall always sing.
Look what he has done for us: he’s filled our hearts with cheer.
God bless Charlie Mopps, the man who invented beer beer beer tiddily beer beer beer

Here in [substitute your own locale/town] we drink beer a lot.
Down at [substitute your pub] on a Saturday night, the pace gets rather hot.
We’ll drink a pint, or sometimes two, it’s cool and fresh and clear:
God bless Charlie Mopps, the man who invented beer.

The purest bar, the fanciest pub, this hole in the wall as well
One thing you can be sure of, it’s Charlie’s beer they sell
So come on all you lucky lads, eleven o’clock she stops
Quiet for five short seconds to remember Charlie Mopps… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Chorus:
He might have been an Admiral, a Sultan or a King
And to his praises we shall always sing.
Look what he has done for us: he’s filled our hearts with cheer.
God bless Charlie Mopps, the man who invented beer beer beer tiddily beer beer beer

You can talk about inventors of today being up to date,
Our animated pictures and our photographs so great,
But the greatest inventor of them all, to me is plain and clear,
It’s Charlie Mopps the man who invented beer.

The day that Charlie died he came to Heaven’s gate,
He said to old St Peter now tell me how I rate,
Saint Peter looked at him and said, “now who the Hell are you”,
He said I’m Charlie Mopps, Saint Peter said straight through.

Chorus:
He might have been an Admiral,a Sultan or a King
And to his praises we shall always sing.
Look what he has done for us: he’s filled our hearts with cheer.
God bless Charlie Mopps, the man who invented beer beer beer tiddily beer beer beer

We’ll all miss Charlie Mopps!

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