ORIGINAL LYRICS

WHEN I STEP OUT 

I'll take down my old long cloak, hangin' by the door

I'll pick up my leather boots, up from off the floor

My father's cane of old blackthorn feels warm in  my hand

I'll put on my cap well-worn and set out across the land.

 

When I step out on the road, when I step out on the way,

I'll follow that road where're it goes, when I step out this fine day.

 

No work, no work, I feel no shame, I'll do no work at all 

I claim this day in my own name I'm feelin' ten feet tall.

I greet the day with open arms, I flash the sun a smile.

I look out over fields and farms, I pause there for awhile. 

 

When I step out on the road, when I step out on the way,

I'll follow that road where're it goes, when I step out this fine day.

The road winds over hill and dale, it crosses rivers three

No ugly storm or blowing gale will be stopping me

No wall or cliff will bar my way, I'll slip right through the air,

and when I land I'll dust me off, not long and I'll be there. 

 

When I step out on the road, when I step out on the way,

I'll follow that road where're it goes, when I step out this fine day.

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept].  Lyrics & melody by Westan James. Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

Hey, so, this song I wrote for my first kid, way back when kids were a new thing for us.  It's our wish for all kids to find an an open way, free of obstacles, and free to grasp whatever opportunities in life may interest them. The cane is real, by the way, it belonged to our grandfather and I use it all the time.  When I Step Out was the very first song I brought to the band, and I would have never, ever written one if David Miller had not kept after me to. - WJ

~All our original songs from Drop of the Creature~

WANDERLUST

Once I loved a lady she meant the world to me

Her eyes as green as a shady lake 

Her smile like a springtime breeze

Her long hair shone like golden silk

with the rolling sea in her stride

I found my comfort in a feathery bed with my lady by side 

But a long dark winter took her from me, I must have wept for forty days

As the sparks from the pyre flew up to the stars, I thought about my ways

My lady was my hearth and heat, my lady was my home

Without her love and without my tears I'll pick up my staff and roam

Harvest time turns the trees to rust and my travels bring me to town

The smell of raw blows up from the fields and the sounds of music rolls down

The skalds sing out and the merchants deal and the women dance till dawn

there's ale and merriment enough for me but in the morning I'll be gone

For I'm at my best when my boots wear thin I'll see the world by the mile

Every lake is green as a lady's eyes, every breeze is welcome as a smile

From caravans of gold and silk to ships on the new moon's tide

I found my comfort in a mossy bed with the road close by my side

Summertime brings the drums of war and banners from far far away

Fields burn as the farmers arm so I lend my sword to the fray

"You've won a place of honor here lad, why is it you won't stay?"

But the winding road keeps calling me back so this is what I say

I'm at my best when my boots wear thin I'll see the world by the mile

Every lake is green as a lady's eyes, every breeze is welcome as a smile

From caravans of gold and silk to ships on the new moon's tide

I found my comfort in a mossy bed with the road close by my side

On a cold mountain road in a traveler's inn I find shelter in the winter time

I warm my bones by the crackling fire and I trade my tales for wine

the innkeepers always ask the same, "What calls you to the open road?"

For an answer all they see is me vanish in the swirling snow

 

For I'm at my best when my boots wear thin I'll see the world by the mile

Every lake is green as a lady's eyes, every breeze is welcome as a smile

From caravans of gold and silk to ships on the new moon's tide

I found my comfort in a mossy bed with the road close by my side

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept].  Lyrics & melody by George Curtis. Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

This is a song George brought to us one sunny day in a park where we were practicing and  it just left us all flabbergasted. We knew he had one, and he kept postponing bringing it, over and over. And over. I recall at the time he said he reworked it constantly while musing in the shower and doing other work.  Time well spent. - WJ

McPaw's Reel

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-laddie listen close to what I say

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-lum don't step the graves, don't wake the dead

Little Tommy Tim McPaw loved the girls but wouldn't pick one

A wealthy family he'd come from, quite a catch a grave-digger's son

He said I never plan to marry, a captured soul I shall never be

I shall die quite happily, with all the girls cryin' over me

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-laddie listen close to what I say

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-lum don't step the graves, don't wake the dead

Little Tommy tim McPaw was out one night drinkin' hard

He stumbled on his long walk home and cut across the graveyard

He danced and sang around the stones a captured soul I shall never be

I shall die quite happily with all the girls cryin' over me

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-laddie listen close to what I say

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-lum don't step the graves, don't wake the dead

You sing with spirit a voice cried out Tommy then saw a maiden fair

Her lantern lighted her pretty face and showed off the fire in her hair

she flirted with Tom as maidens will when their father's are far away

they danced and he begged her for a kiss as the music of locusts continued to play

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-laddie listen close to what I say

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-lum don't step the graves, don't wake the dead

She obliged to Tom's surprise her kiss was a cold as the stones and the dew

The maiden said I've been four years dead, now that we've kissed you're dead too

Early next morning they buried poor Tom at the spot where he died

The men drank whiskey to his life the girls stood over Tom and they cried

 

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-laddie listen close to what I've said 

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-lum don't step the graves, don't wake the dead

So the ghost of Tom forever sings a captured soul I shall forever be

Dancing forever around the stones with the ghostly maiden who captured me

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-laddie listen close to what I 've said 

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-lum don't step the graves, don't wake the dead

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-laddie listen close to what I 've said 

Feel-a-lucky-a-li-a-lum don't step the graves, don't wake the dead

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept].  Lyrics & melody  by David Miller. Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

David loved playing with the genre and worked out this jiggedy song after listening to the Clancy Brothers and the Rovers and Planxty until he began to hallucinate that leprechauns told him to send our first mailing of The Regurgitator (our Fan Newsletter) ((brilliantly written by him)) with envelopes stamped with "Warning: contains live goldfish". He somehow actually had this stamp. So we stamped them. All 175. We've always wondered how the post-office and our fans felt about that. We still think it's funny.

- WJ

Bewitchin' Brenda

I met the girl I love, before church on an August day.

I'd like to say she was heaven-sent, and for me did kneel and pray.

The first time I looked into her eyes, I thought ol' Fagen you're truly blessed.

For she stopped me on my holy path and unbuttoned her calico dress!

She's bewitching' Brenda, wears jewelry on her toes 

Her hair is gold spun from the sun and her lips are red as rose 

By day we fight and make love all night, sometimes till the afternoon

When the mandolins wail, she brews her own ale, and sings to the man on the moon

Well I told me mother that I loved Brenda, and she fainted in her Mulligan stew.

Papa sent for Father O'Kelly and the nuns at the convent too,

My brother said you're going to hell, where you'll burn and you'll blister

Then he took me aside, and he smiled wide, and said, tell me - has she a sister?

She's bewitching' Brenda, wears jewelry on her toes 

Her hair is gold spun from the sun and her lips are red as rose 

By day we fight and make love all night, sometimes till the afternoon

When the mandolins wail, she brews her own ale, and sings to the man on the moon

I married Brenda and she married me cause the old priest wouldn't think of it

We asked him to imbibe of a spiritual bribe, but the old man wouldn't take a drink of it

Word spread around through the whole town, that I had married a Pagan

Think what you will but she has her own still, and my last name, that's Fagen

She's bewitching' Brenda, wears jewelry on her toes 

Her hair is gold spun from the sun and her lips are red as rose 

By day we fight and make love all night, sometimes till the afternoon

When the mandolins wail, she brews her own ale, and sings to the man on the moon

 

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept].  Lyrics & melody by David Miller. Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

Unrelated to the song;  in many of the old newsletters David crafted a romance between model Christy Brinkly and Wayne.  We kept telling her Wayne wasn't interested, but she kept flying us around the world in her jet and baking us cookies in the hopes he'd come around.  Also according to the newsletter the only quote we would ever give the press was "Beets, very large beets!"  Theater of the Absurd is probably our true home.- WJ

Out in the Night

Don't go alone out in the night, it is not yours to own

Cling to pools of moonlight if through the night your goin'

Beware the sounding of the horn, it cries out for your soul

The Hunt rides out, the never-born, tis you that is their goal.

Oh fear that sight my wandering one, may you never hear that sound

for if you do my dearest one I fear you ne'er be found.

Beware the goblins o' the glen, the drumming and the song, 

stray too close to that great din, and dinner you'll become!

Home and hearth stay here and rest, hearth and home by far the best!

By the fire just sit tight - awake at dawn - survive the night!

Avoid the forest if you can, Unseelie Court there rules

for that is where Black Alder stands and waits for passing fools

Pass not the ruins on the hills, Redcaps stand the watch

your blood is dye for hats to fill, don't end up one more notch.

If the coastline you must tread beware of plaintive cries

a mermaid wet, or selkie dread, will catch you with their lies

The mountains too are no safe place, hear the rumbling roar

Trolls moan, and giants PACE, and line their dens with gore.

Home and hearth stay here and rest, hearth and home by far the best!

By the fire just sit tight - awake at dawn - survive the night!

If on the road you meet a man in grey cloak with a staff

Toss him silver if you can, avoid his horrid laugh

Whate'er you do, stay clear the moors, its hidden falls and fens

Spirits want that which is yours -  you'll not find home again.

Fearies too enchant the way, and pixies play they're part

Listen close to what I say, or be elf-shot through the heart

If you still think that you must go, take rowan and take rue

I'll teach you old songs that I know - they might just see you through...

Our thoughts will all be with you now, hold tightly to your pack

The horrors I describe are true! Please now, hurry back!

 

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept].  Lyrics & melody by Westan James. Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

Out in the Night is me telling my children it is bed time and explaining why they should stay in the bed. This is what happens when you eat too much folklore.           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's not really. You cannot eat too much folklore. And I would often invite the kids to get back up and march around the hallways. - WJ

Maybe. Did we mention we are unreliable trivia providers? 

Tenderly

tenderly with sweet caress

tenderly she will cry

tenderly he'll kiss her hand 

but never say good-bye

sparingly she savors hope

sparingly she will dream

sparingly with time enough

her smile though fleet may beam

savagely he fights abroad

savagely he clings to life 

savagely he swears to God

he'll return to see his wife

sparingly she savors hope

sparingly she dreams

sparingly she says goodbye

slowly rending seams

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept]. Written by Westan James & Wayne Twombley.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

This is one those songs Wayne and I put together, like a hundred years back. He had this lovely tune and I made him play it over and over till these words made themselves known. We practiced in the day job back alley until we felt it'd be ok enough to bring to the band. Then they  added their parts.  I still really like Steve Marshall's flute coming forward at the end, and all of  the sound effects George Curtis selected, on the entire Drop of the Creature album, (especially the crackling fire as this song begins.  It still reminds me of all the times we spent around camp fires early on.) Music, friends and smoke-fire is a heady blend. - WJ

The Rakish Young Devil

The rakish young devil came to town by coach, he stepped to the street

and beat the dust from his pants. Bright yellow curls fell from his high bowler

and he stole away my Kate, with one blue-eyed glance 

And I swear to the wild wind in revenge I will revel!

God give back my Kate and damn the rakish young devil!

The rakish young devil stepped in to the inn, where Katie caught sight

of him and how her eyes shown. 

He lit up a smoke and he told her a joke and she smiled in a way

that I'd never known. 

I watched from the corner, where my piano jangled songs of the 

railroad for the drinking workmen, and every bitter stout sweet Katie

poured out, could not quench the thirst behind his devilish grin.

And I swear to the wild wind in revenge I will revel

God give back my Kate and damn the rakish young devil!

Day after day, the rakish young devil, came in and sat down at the very same place.

He spent his purse freely, with a stare at me steely. His whispers brought a blush to my 

sweet Katie's face. The night of a cold moon they danced in the saloon with my back

turned away the two cooed and they kissed. My loyal young brother stood true to my honor, it pained him to tell me all that I had missed. 

And I swear to the wild wind in revenge I will revel

God give back my Kate and damn the rakish young devil!

With my blood afire and burning in my chest I ran down the road to her father's green 

farm, beneath a willow tree, they kissed passionately, the rakish young devil with

my Kate in his arms!

One shot rang high above the cold dead ground! My brother's pistol fell from my trembling 

hand. My aim tainted by anger left sweet Katie dyin' though I meant to destroy the 

rakish young man.

 

And I swear to the wild wind in revenge I will revel

God give back my Kate and damn the rakish young devil!

 The rakish young devil disappeared in the darkness and Katie's wide eyes met with mine in despair. I rushed to her side, forgive me, I cried!

 

And her life drifted off on the cool autumn air...

 

Well they've built the gallows outside the jail window. The rake will live on long after my death. 

But as a spirit that's damned, to misery eternal, I swear, I'll haunt that bastard till his dyin' breath!

And I swear to the wild wind in revenge I will revel

God give back my Kate and damn the rakish young devil!

And I swear to the wild wind in revenge I will revel

God give back my Kate and damn the rakish young devil!

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics & melody by David Miller.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

So, to call someone a rake; meant they were a womanizer, (short for rakehell: a hell-raiser, also usually wasting his rich-boy inheritance.) We referred to this song as our Irish immigrant song, in that we thought it was set during the early days of the wild west and all the characters in it were recent arrivals. It's a grand example of Dave's storytelling in song. I believe it is even more powerful when you hear  us perform it live. -WJ

I'm So Stupid

Every little twist has got me fooled,

she plays me like a fish right out of school.

She hooks me and she reels me in,

tosses me back just to catch me again,

 

But I love her, I love her, I love her - I'm so stupid.

She wants diamonds and she wants flowers,

she wants to live in an Ivory tower, 

spends my money and leaves me poor,

smiles and says, "Honey, can I have some more?" 

But I love her, I love her, I love her - I'm so stupid.

Now, if I was king of land and sea,

I'd still ask the girl to marry me,

and if I was just a poor little fish,

I'd be glad to be served on her supper dish.

'Cause I love her, I love her, I love her - I'm so stupid.

'Cause I love her, I love her, I love her - I'm so stupid

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics & melody by David Miller.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

This gem was one of Dave's from before the formation of Wylde Nept,  when he was still getting used to wearing steel arm-pits due to wounds received in WW1. And it was our first patron's favorite.  She gave us our first break playing live at her place in CR, on a St. Patrick's Day long, long ago. She had us play, literally, all, day, long.     All.    Day.     Long.   A learning experience to say the least, but she was the best. Here's to the Left Bank and it's proprieter, hold her memory high, may she reside in lofty peace among all the lefties. -WJ

Ugly Mrs. Fen

One cold March mornin' I crossed O'Miller's moor,

w'me shepherd dog Clancy, on a distasteful chore.

Me mother sent me out with some soup for Mrs. Fen

Who's husband fell on his dickey and couldn't get up again. 

 

St. Patrick lead me to the gates, St. Peter let me in. 

For I don't wanna see the face of ugly Mrs. Fen.

She comes from France and she wears pants, 

and smells like fishermen!

St. Patrick lead me to the gates, St. Peter let me in!

I knocked three times and Mrs. Fen opened up the door.

A nastier uglier hag I had never seen before.

She had hairy moles and blackened teeth and weighed 900 pound!

Poor Clancey took one look at her and fell dead on the ground.

St. Patrick lead me to the gates, St. Peter let me in. 

For I don't wanna see the face of ugly Mrs. Fen.

She drinks from kegs, has hairy legs, 

and a hideous devil's grin!

St. Patrick lead me to the gates, St. Peter let me in!

She took the soup from me hands and bid me do come in,

"It might make me husband smile if you paid your respects to him."

So I took off me cap and coat and walked over to his bed

he whispered to me, "Closer lad,'' and this is what he said, 

"St. Patrick lead me to the gates, St. Peter let me in. 

For I can't stand another day, living' with Mrs. Fen

me outlook is ____, ___ _ ____ since me drunken wedding, friend!

St. Patrick lead me to the gates, St. Peter let me in!"

I felt so sorry for the man, I started in to cry

I reached into me pocket for me traveler o' rye. 

We drank and we cried together till our eyes were red and sore

we got so drunk that we couldn't see her ugly face no more!

St. Patrick lead me to the gates, St. Peter let me in

For i don't wanna see the face of ugly Mrs. Fen.

St. Patrick lead me to the gates, St. Peter let me in

For i don't wanna see the face of ugly Mrs. Fen.

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics & melody by David Miller.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

Yes, this song is naughty. And funny. Yes, I purposely left out some of the lyrics, we even slur them on purpose live, because A: children, and B: we enjoy your guesses. Its not actually dirty. -WJ

No really.

Well. Maybe kinda.  Also this is the song that first shined a light on Wayne's natural 'pained screams and animal noises' talent. It's actually quite astonishing how many traditional songs describe terrible things happening to animals. OK, maybe not too astonishing when you compare that to how many awful things are happening to the people in them...

The Bloody Drum

This story happened years ago, forty score or more,

a bodhran playing lad, dressed in plaid, went off to fight a war.

To take, bonnie Mohr the enemy, in the morning did come.

the boys only weapon was his bloody drum

Just his bloody drum. Just his bloody drum.

The drummer lad in kelly plaid, sounded a lively beat

as his regiment marched in time-o, down the village street.

No one ever knew, where the drummer he came from

but the town stood and cheered-o

For the bloody drum. For the bloody drum.

The fight took the whole day, and death crossed the field slowly

In no small shame the foe tried to claim final victory

for in the living the enemy still counted some and our only soldier still alive

was the bloody drum. Just the bloody drum.

He marched up to the enemy and challenged single-handedly

Surender asunder and die with wonder, I shall drive you into the sea

the enemy captain laughed. He said either you or I are dumb.

you can't drive us to the sea, you can't even hurt a flea

with your bloody drum. With you bloody drum.

He raised the goatskin o'er his head, and he began to pound

the sky cracked wide and the raiders all died when the lightning came down

the air was charged with sorcery and filled with a slow steady hum

of the wide thunder and the tide pulling under 

the foes of the bloody drum.  The foes of the bloody drum.

The town cried out for its hero, they cried out for his name,

and how they all did cheer-o, they promised to spread his fame

they offered shelter from the storm, but in he refused to come.

he let out a banshee call and disappeared in the squall,

he disappeared, the bloody drum. He disappeared, the bloody drum.

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics & melody by David Miller.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

So many questions about this story. I have no answers. I can't decide if Dave sounds a bit more like Cash or Dylan on the recording of this one. Maybe both? Oh, and feel free to argue about the pronunciation of bodhran, the traditional Irish drum. We were taught 'bow-rawn,' by an Irish bodhran player that sang and spoke Gaelic.  Your experts can fight our experts elsewhere. There's a Bodhran Battle Arena near you.  Oh - and ours can do sorcery.  Just a heads up. 

The Bandit Song

Oh I am a rover I roam the land over and I'll never settle until I get caught,

from village to township my sword hangs at my hip

and you'll never catch me I'll always be sought.

We hold the highways and we hold the hills
steal your silver make off with your tills
call down your kingsmen - we quicken our pace
Drive hard for the forest we live for the chase!

A knave so beguiling that while your still smiling
before you know it I've got all your gold.
And I am so dashing I'll escape the thrashing
so damnably vexing I'll live till I'm old.

We have the forest and we have the moors,
rustle your cattle and take what is yours.
Call the High Sheriff we couldn't care less!
Torture us glady we'll never confess!

No you cannot beat me nor ever defeat me.
I am but a sinner and I have no shame.
To filch all that glimmers purloin all that shimmers.
To nab it and grab it that's our favorite game.

We hold the alley and we hold the night.
We're always ready and willing to fight.
Put all your money right here in the sack!
Just do as we say, there's a knife at your back!

Ah we are hellacious, our greed is voracious
and no one is safe above our plans and schemes
Rogue's from a nightmare, we burgle with great care and
if you can hear this we've stolen your dreams.

We rule the backlands and we know the waste,
sneak into the village and ride off in haste.
We rob and we plunder and sunder and kill,
we wreck and we ruin and threaten with skill.

Yes we're here to scare you to trap and ensnare you,
rakish young devils we scoff at the law!
Remarkably daring, our nostrils a flaring,
make off with yer chattel our plans have no flaw!

We'll take the booty and we'll take the loot!
We all have daggers concealed in our boot.
Call the kings horses and all the lawmen,
we'll just evade them again and again.

Yes we are all blackguards, raise up all the tankards
and drink to the wild ways that led us astray.
Sometimes we are charming but most times alarming,
don't ever forget us or be our next prey!

We hide in shadows and hide behind trees.
We prove that there is no honor among thieves
We'll count up the gain, and you'll count up the loss.
Where is my dagger? In your gullet boss!

So in conclusion we thrive on illusion.
We're all in collusion, keep secrets or die.
We all conspire, around the campfire.
Make plans to go straight, of course I'd never lie. 

Copyright © 1997 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics & melody by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

This is one of our most requested songs.  Probably because there's no chorus, and we hardly ever sing it because none of us remembers all 28 verses.  I wrote this for the Rogues, they know who they are. - WJ

~All the original songs from Live in 3-D~

The Gallows

 It stands alone against the sky
Where seawinds blow and seabirds fly
A darkened and foreboding tree
Bet your purse it waits for me 

The gallows wait, against the sky
The gallows wait, where seabirds fly
The gallows wait, foreboding tree
The gallows wait, it waits for me 

Cold, alone, sway with the wind 
Pray it’s not for you my friend 
Though it’s true that I have sinned 
This was not meant to be my end 

The gallows wait, with the wind 
The gallows wait, for you my friend 
The gallows wait, for I have sinned
The gallows wait, to be my end 

But I will not abandon hope 
To yet avoid that sturdy rope 
While you dance outside my cell 
And think that I will go to hell 

The gallows wait, abandon hope 
The gallows wait, a sturdy rope 
The gallows wait, outside my cell 
The gallows wait, I'll go to Hell! 

Upon these walls a true confession, 
Thieving was my last profession, 
I did not take her ring in flight 
I stole away his wedding night 

Just make it clear that’s why I died.
Then wipe the tears all from her eyes. 
I stretched before I e'er was tried. 
My life was purchased with his lies. 

The gallows wait 
The gallows wait  
The gallows wait 
The gallows wait... 

Copyright © 1999 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

So we've made it to songs on our our second CD, recorded live at The Mill in Iowa City.  One of our very favorite places to play, in a town full of cultural delights.  Ok the song, so there's a lot of songs about going to the gallows, this is my contribution, such as it is. If there's any confusion, the hero is being hanged not because they were a thief,  but because they eloped with someone else's love - probably some upstanding citizen that has sway over the law.  I bet they escape, with the help of local gnomes and a rusty spoon, and they re-unite with their true loves and live happily ever after in Skopnoller. Perhaps I'm reading too much into it.- WJ

Some Kinda Ride

 Woo! 

Copyright © 1999 [Wylde Nept]. Tune by David Miller, 'Lyric' by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

What? It's the only other original song on the album. I know it's an instrumental. That's ... that's pure poetry right there is what that is.

Woo!- WJ

~All the original songs from Traditional Routes~

We are The Storm

No more planning, no more schemes, no more fleeting foolish dreams

No halls to pace, no time to bide, gather up your gear we ride!

 

Rage against the wind, my lads, 

Strain against the hour, swallow leagues and banish fear,

we ride!

 

Faster now a blazing trail, faster now we must not fail

thundering loud we muster pride, we are the storm for now we ride!

Rage against the wind, my lads, 

Strain against the hour, swallow leagues and banish fear,

we ride!

Heavy weather in our eye, hear the raven's sounding cry

flank the left and charge the right, burst the clouds for now we fight!

Rage against the wind, my lads, 

Strain against the hour, swallow leagues and banish fear,

we ride!


We ride!

Ride hard and trust your steed!

We ride!

Ride fast we must make speed!

We ride! We ride!

We ride! We ride!

Copyright © 2002 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

All right, album three, different studio.  There is such a genre as cavalry songs. Right? There is. I honestly have no idea what inspired this song, according to my notes; spiderweb doodle and flying dagger misses finger sniffing monkey. Big scribbly blotch. Date crossed out. Ok, I probably wanted some sort of rallying song, we had a fresh new lead guitar; Chris Pasbrig. - WJ

Four Oaks Lane

Elm do grieve, oak - he do hate, willow do walk, if you travels late.

 

Come sit closer to the fire, the night is cold and the wind blows higher

Warm your bones while I tell my tale, turn you cold it'll make you pale

It's been fifty years gone by, since Silas Smith lived on high

Did men wrong and women worse, he never prayed he only cursed! 

 

Oh hear me, don't go walking, don't go walking down four oaks lane,

Deep through swampland where the willows

will make certain you don't return again.

Silas Smith he lived for greed, money filled his every need

He was boastful he was proud, one night he spoke a but too loud

At the tavern full to fight, stepped outside and yelled to the night

For his crimes he felt no shame - he'd go walking down four oaks lane.

Oh hear me, don't go walking, don't go walking down four oaks lane,

Deep through swampland where the willows

will make certain you don't return again

Here's a gift from me to you, now you know what you should not do

just ask Silas, he's there himself, that's his skull set high upon the shelf!

Oh hear me, don't go walking, don't go walking down four oaks lane,

Deep through swampland where the willows

will make certain you don't return again

Oh hear me, don't go walking, don't go walking down four oaks lane,

Deep through swampland where the willows

will make certain you don't return again

 

Copyright © 2002 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

 One of my favorite authors is Manly Wade Wellman, whose tales of John the Balladeer I read as a kid and shared with my own kids when they were old enough. I feel his influence here. Also my brother and I used to sneak out to the park and walk late at night, and we'd sing old Kingston Trio songs up to the moon, as the dark trees loomed over.  The snippet at the beginning is Steven quoting some 14th century doggerel, because... well, I like to read.  I have no idea if the trees are out for  justice or just predatory. I think maybe forests are just, even today,  as much as I love them, places where danger may lurk. - WJ

Cursed, Hunted, & Haunted

I'm cursed, I'm hunted, I'm haunted. 

Will there come a day when I'm free?

I'm cursed, I'm hunted, I'm haunted. 

Dear God have pity on me.

As a lad I once ran off when they tried to switch me.

They called on a gypsy to spurl and bewitch me.

now my luck is drained by this horrible curse, 

if a thing can go wrong rest assured, she'll go worse.

 

I'm cursed, I'm hunted, I'm haunted. 

Will there come a day when I'm free?

I'm cursed, I'm hunted, I'm haunted. 

Dear God have pity on me.

One day I was called out to pay by the tax man. 

Broke, they sentenced me to the axe-man.

Breathless and tired now I'm forced to wander

No place for a rest or to stop for to ponder

I'm cursed, I'm hunted, I'm haunted. 

Will there come a day when I'm free?

I'm cursed, I'm hunted, I'm haunted. 

Dear God have pity on me.

I left a fair maiden to fight in the war.

Her face I did picture as I hit the shore.

But she died instead, and her image now haunts me.

I can't clear my mind how her face still does taunt me.

I'm cursed, I'm hunted, I'm haunted. 

Will there come a day when I'm free?

I'm cursed, I'm hunted, I'm haunted. 

Dear God have pity on me.

Dear God have pity on me.

Copyright © 2002 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

 We tell the audience I wrote this one to fit in with a lot of the other traditional songs we were singing and listening to, because it fits the general dread captured by an overwhelming amount of Celtic folk songs.  That's probably the truth.  Sounds likely.  Sure. 

 

 

Ok, but understand this; I very, very seldom set out to write X kind of song. They mostly just enter my awareness and I try desperately to capture them before they drain away. Sometimes writing a song is the hardest thing ever, and sometimes they simply flow through you like you're a conduit. So if you don't like 'em, its ok, sometimes, neither do I. Sometimes they plop out and you're like, ew, let's fix that, urrgh, throw that out,  and what is happening over here, yeesh.  And sometime's you're just - yeah, ok, that's good, and rarely - ever so rarely, you get the kind I really hope for; one that moves you. Which is quite a tricky dance to pull off when you're the one pulling all the strings.  You might still need to revise, even then.- WJ

Oh, I also love poetry and wordplay. Sometimes, as Lewis Carol did, I just make up words because they sound right, or taste best. Like in this song.

I Sailed the Ocean

When I was young and the world was blue,

my heart beat strong, my love was true. 

I sailed the ocean each afternoon, 

on a chair in the back of the room.

When I was little the world was too

father was tall, a park was a zoo

Cats could sing and my dog was smart

I couldn't wait for the next day to start

 

Magic dust danced in the rays of the sun

just watching clouds for hours was fun

Days lasted months, months lasted years, 

and the darkness was my only fear

A box was a mansion and it could take flight

the moon up above came home every night

I loved the snow and I never got cold

and I couldn't wait to grow old.

When I was young and the world was blue,

my heart beat strong, my love was true. 

I sailed the ocean each afternoon, 

on a chair in the back of the room.

Copyright © 2002 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Music by Wayne Twombley. Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

This is Morgan's song - WJ

One day I noticed him playing pretend on an old chair in my office, and I remembered, for a moment, childhood.- WJ

So it's auto-biographical, just, I don't know, recording kid thoughts?- WJ

TRIVIA

This one is another one that just Wayne and I worked out together. Some of the images are so nostalgic that I tear up when I sing it, so when we recorded it, I had to turn away from the crew and the rest of the gang. If you're very observant, you may notice a catch in my voice, or spot me tearing up on stage from time to time. Its because of all the rain. - WJ

 

Lighthouse Keeper's Lament

Lightning crashed and thunder roared two hundred pleas were plain

they'd get no closer to the shore for mercy in his name.

The crew and captain kept the course, hold steady as you go 

When first they felt the slamming force, where is the guiding glow?

The hull cracked wide and all inside were swallowed and swept under

certain now their heartfelt cries were swallowed by the thunder

The sounds of screams and broken dreams and shouts of fear and pain

rose up along with splintered beams and fought against the rain

 

The ship's remains through all that strife swept up upon the beach 

a few survivors clawed for life hoping safety was in reach

salt-filled eye and crusted hand taught with life's desire

A stream of lights poured down the strand, and hope grew slightly higher

 

But it was not just what it seemed that help come from the town

though eyes did glow and smiles beamed they had hoped all would drown

Yes all the town had risen up and the beacon they betrayed

They dowsed the light that sorry night for money to be made

Copyright © 2002 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

I'm pretty sure I'd just read some book or other about pirates that mentioned ship-breakers in passing. - WJ

 

Ghost Ship

One more year boys and a day, we'll set sail for far away

Till then we toil and work and sweat, till we pay off our cursed debt.

 

We've been trough the seven seas. We keep sailing with no breeze

Set no anchor, touch no land, with death's head gins and skeletal hands

At the edge we heard a cry, sailed on past and still we fly

We work the sails without wind, through seven hells for we have sinned

We've forgotten all the laws, lost in time the curse's cause

A ship of inmates a ship of death,  our sails are filled by the devil's breath

One more year boys and a day, we'll set sail for far away

Till then we toil and work and sweat, till we pay off our cursed debt

The sun nor wind nor moon nor stars the salt sea mists are never ours

still we chase them shiver and shake, pray you don't cross, our burning wake

One more year boys and a day, we'll set sail for far away

Till then we toil and work and sweat, till we pay off our cursed debt

Copyright © 2002 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

Wrote this  in 2001. We recorded this in 2002.

Curse of the Black Pearl?   2003 kids, 2003. 

 

 

Arr... 

We were piratey long afore ye gauwpy 

lubbers!

Gyar.

also, my brother plays a mean accordion - drink up, Fishes!- WJ

 

TRIVIA

We should also definitely mention we were quite honored that this song inspired a writer to create a d20 adventure for Atlas Games, the scenario 'Devil's Breath' by Matt Sprengeler, in "En Route II - By Land or Sea,"  which entertains Wylde Nept in undead action. So cool! -WJ 

 

 

The Razing of Jedborough

The candle burned the wick was high, it flicked and fluttered with a sigh

he licked his fingers, snuffed it out, faced the room, took up the shout

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

They left the room, took up the fight, a moving glow tired of their plight

Torches high with lamps and oil, no more would soldiers tread their soil

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

There was the castle on the hill, they set to burning with a will

First in this, then that, lord's hands so many wars had spent their land

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

The leader turned through back his hood, someone cried out we need more wood

Wagons tress the flames grew higher, "Whatever will burn throw it on the fire!"

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

We'll burn Jedborough down, burn it down

We'll burn Jedborough down

Copyright © 2002 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

Based on a trip to ancestral sites in Scotland, during my honeymoon,  where I asked the guide, What happened to the castle?  (Which is now a former prison turned 

museum, which they all still call the castle. (Because of course.)

 

She said all the farmers and folk round about got tired of the English and the Scottish fighting over the castle,  so they burned it down.  

 

Sounds like our family. Practical, eccentric, and occasionally extreme. - WJ

 

Oh -also,  on the recording we brought in family and friends to be the angry mob.

My Brother Said

Well the lightning flashed and the thunder fell

And we fell into the jaws of hell.

I looked left, he looked right

I asked out loud could we last all night?

Hell yes.

Hell yes we can take that hill.

Hell yes we can ride all night.

Walk tall take one deep breath.

Back to back we'll fight to the death.

Well the light grew dim and I lost my way

Didn't know whether to go or stay

He was gone and I felt the fear

I swear I heard him whisper in my ear,

I'm here.

Hell yes we can take that hill.

Hell yes we can ride all night.

Walk tall take one deep breath.

Back to back we'll fight to the death.

We were broke with no gold to spare

wondering how we could get our share

We were all such a pitiful sight

I asked what was wrong and what was right.

Feels right.

Hell yes we can take that hill.

Hell yes we can ride all night.

Walk tall take one deep breath.

Back to back we'll fight to the death.

Our ship sank and we swam to shore

there must have been a dozen or more

abandoned women they begged us stay

I shook my head no, but I heard the band say

Hell yes!

Hell yes we can take that hill.

Hell yes we can ride all night.

Walk tall take one deep breath.

Back to back we'll fight to the death.

Copyright © 2002 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

My you find someone who's always got your back. My brother and I are close, but brothers aren't always related by blood. Sometimes you find them on the battlefield, or in the trenches, or on stage, or just sitting next to you. Brother or Sister; take care of each other.  

It's rough to know that not everybody is going to stay on your stage your whole life, friends and family are going have to go backstage, wander off, find new stages, or simply leave. New players will arrive, and the cycle will go on, and everyone's got their own stage, but, but some players will stand out for you.  So to the missing, the fallen, the forgotten; we remember. 

To all those fighting re-enactors, fellow gamers, and especially to those rangers on patrol; we are with you, and you will take that hill.

...Oh,  I know the last verse is silly, but the rest of the band was single at the time I wrote it, and I just wanted an excuse for them to shout. -Sligo! WJ

For the Hills

My fathers fathers father made their living from the land

the wind left trails upon their face and soil soaked their hands

asleep before the stars awoke up as the sun was risin' 

hard work and toil until they looked like hills on the horizon

Miles and miles and miles from home too far away too long alone

Miles and miles and miles I roam in places that I've never known

Certain 'tis my father's dad always had a sweat-soaked brow

for certain he put all he had into working with the plow

the road rose up to pass him by to towns he ne'er set eyes on

he fought the wind and stayed behind the hills on the horizon

Miles and miles and miles from home too far away too long alone

Miles and miles and miles I roam to someplace that I've never known

And my old man tis certain yet he toiled for years and years

convinced that only work and sweat could keep away his fears

But I set course by the evening star that's the star to keep you eyes on

can you see how far away they are those hills, on the horizon?

Miles and miles and miles from home too far away too long alone

No matter how far off I run there's just more hills on the horizon

No matter how far off I run there's just more hills on the horizon

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © 2002 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

I grew up in the suburbs, but spent a great deal of my time with relatives in rural Iowa, on the farm, or on the Mississippi.  I understood small town life, and  'big city' life, and the meaning of  'river rat'. It's very strange to me that my children have never spent a week on the farm, slopping hogs or bailing hay, or never gone fishing in a john-boat across river white-caps in a thunderstorm to haul in (illegal) fishing lines. 

          From very early on I knew I did not have the temperament to follow in any of my family's noble footsteps. They were all up at dawn, all in bed by 9PM. My path would be different.

          But there are days when the sweet country air whispers to me, turning my head with the smell of Spring grass and fresh turned earth, and days when the river sings it's own siren's summons. Return, return.  As dissociated from the land and water as I have become, I still cannot entirely deny their call. -WJ

~All the original songs from All's Fair~

Before the Kisses Fade

I awoke in Germany after a month of sleep

With my true love ten thousand miles away

an ocean and the enemy between the two of us 

With my true love ten thousand miles away

I awoke in London town after a month of pain

With my true love a thousand miles away

a hell ride north with all due haste, Ive been at war too long 

With my true love ten thousand miles away

Ride on through wind and weather, Ride on through pain and thunder!

Ride on! Before the kisses fade

My horse is painted foam and fleck, Ive traded now through four

With my true love five hundred miles away

I wear a cloak of wind and dust, my clothes are worn and tore

With my true love five hundred miles away

I see her face before me now, the glory of her smile

with my true love a hundred miles away

I smell the sunshine in her hair stronger by the mile

with my true love a hundred miles away

Ride on through wind and weather, Ride on through pain and thunder!

Ride on! Before the kisses fade

I see her now upon the square so close that we could touch

with my true love a hundred miles away

she doesn't know me anymore, I begin to blush

with my true love five hundred miles away

And in her arms a new born child held closely to her breast

with my true love a thousand miles away

A brand new husband by her side pride upon his chest

with my true love ten thousand miles away

Ride on through wind and weather, Ride on through pain and thunder!

Ride on!

Ride on!

Ride on.

Until the kisses fade

Copyright © 2006 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

Ah, our fourth album. Same producers, but new studio. Thank you Catamount.  Also, a new lead guitarist joins us - Jon Southwood! ...so of course here's another driving, riding song, I guess, like on the previous album?

I'm pretty sure it was Steven's idea to change the milage of the repeated lines as the rider realizes or imagines  their chance is lost, taking us further and further away from the square.

I'm also pretty sure it was his idea to steal an Ice Cream truck and drive to Ireland. Wayne condones this action, saying scientific documentaries like the movie "Strange Brew", support this venture, we would just need to accumulate enough empty beer bottles to last a month or so. When I point out this might be more bottles than an ice cream truck might contain, Jon suggests that some of us could be cryogenically frozen with the ice cream, so, fewer bottles. When I wonder if an Ice Cream truck could even function under-water, Brian attests that cars can swim, like in James Bond.  When I say, well , that would indeed be a very special Ice Cream truck, where would we ever find one like that? They say, California, duh. 

So, this is the kind of thing I deal with every practice.

Oh, and somehow we're driving to Ireland via SanFrancisco to go on tour.  In an Ice Cream truck. With some of us clinically dead. If you' like to join that ride, just drop us a line! -WJ

The Landlord's Daughter

Lovely Brea the landlord's daughter, at the Two Stags down the road

served them whiskey with their water, slapped their hands when they grew bold

 

Twas a dusky twilight evening while the inn was fit to burst

when Liam the one-eyed crofter limped inside and spat and cursed

There are soldiers headed this way, full thirty-score of men!

They are coming for the outlaw and we'll not see Jack again!

Now some men gathered weapons, and some yelled, "Hide the ale!"

and some ran out the backway - "oh you'll not put me in jail"

Lovely Brea the landlord's daughter, at the Two Stags down the road

served them whiskey with their water, slapped their hands when they grew bold

Those remaining whispered fiercely, what they needed was a plan

they were smugglers of the coastline and the highwayman was kin

Then the soldiers marched in boldly, and surveyed them one and all

While Liam the one-eyed crofter limped off meekly down the hall

 

Where he lifted up his eye-patch, and he kissed the lovely Brea

and she held him oh so tightly as he made set to flee

While meanwhile in the greatroom, all the patron's bowed their best

as desire burned within them to send each guard to his rest

Then drunken Jarmar Mappestone with a sign from Black Currant, 

threw a mug at Captain Blowhard and the bloody war began

there was fighting in the corner, there was biting there was fuss

there was not one soldier standing not involved in fisticuffs

 

Then from the door - a warning, Liam held the lantern high, 

pointing out the night-black rider's silhouette against the sky

and the corporal cried, "The outlaw!" and the captain gave a roar

and the soldiers ran out wildly forming just outside the door

Where they saddled up their horses and rode off after their mark

you could hear the hoofbeats pounding fading off into the dark

Then Gunnar set to laughing, and Tinker set to wail

and Bosky started filling every smuggler's cup with ale

For they knew they chased a phantom, and lame Liam bid farewell

and raced off to meet his sweetheart lovely Brea behind the mill.

Lovely Brea the landlord's daughter and the one-eyed outlaw Jack, 

were not seen again in that town and they're never coming back

Copyright © 2006 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

Another song for rogues. 

 

So, some of us play now and again in the SCA. If you don't what that is - google it. Have fun, be careful.

Anyways, we used to frequently visit an event called the War of the Lilies, where they sometimes got

thousands of people to show up,

 

dress medieval, wear armor and hit each other with sticks. Eventually we tried that part, but that part has... bruises.  Like serious bruises, huge with seams and sprockets! You become proud of them! It's like getting tattoos, you can never have enough.  And oh my God the heat! Armor is like wearing an oven!  I'm too old for ...

So, where was I? Ah, Local celtic jam sessions and the SCA were what inspired us to do our thing. We went to the jams and knew the music, but couldn't play the music, yet. We  went to the SCA and were known for...nothing. So we thought we might could get some renown for singing and such.  They used to have these grand parties at night all lit with torches, and then they had this lovely floating tavern, called the Broken Harp. Which,  is just a very special magical little place - you should see it during a Kansas thunderstorm. They've always been very kind to us, and even built us a small traveling liquor 

cabinet, which we took with us to the studio for this album. So, Cheers, Broken Harp folks! May you ever be too loud. -WJ

Sail Forever

Hello my love, I'm glad to see you

It pains me too, but I must leave you

Our love was wrong, our love was right,

The air is sweeter in the night

Don't turn away with so much woe

Our spark of love shall ever glow

Though it may fade, your smile still gleams

I'll always wait love, within your dreams

Dreams never die, they sail forever

Dreams never die, they ride the night

Dreams never die, they sail forever

Like drifting clouds across the night

There's our two stars, up in the night sky

A beacon bright for us to steer by

So don't be sad, no don't you cry

I need your bright eyes up in the sky

Dreams never die, they sail forever

Dreams never die, they ride the night

Dreams never die, they sail forever

Like drifting clouds across the night

 

So dream with me, a last farewell

And hold me so, it lasts trough hell,

Well you may wed, but I must sail

I swear my lass, my love won't fail

He left her then, and sailed forever

She waited still, for her fair lover

She watched the stars up in the sky

her two fine sons, never asked why

Dreams never die, they sail forever

Dreams never die, they ride the night

Dreams never die, they sail forever

Like drifting clouds across the night

Dreams never die

Dreams never die

Dreams never die

Dreams never die

Copyright © 2006 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

Ummmm. I think I was inspired by a novel I didn't like so I changed the ending but kept it tragic. As I've stated before, sometimes I'm just a conduit.     - WJ

So So Cold

II watch the red sun crawl up the dawn sky, and the sea is back as coal.

I see you working, greet others passing, but will anyone pray for my soul?

I was a young man, fresh from the country, well she was fine as lace

She said to meet her, deep in the moonlight, I thought she'd be my saving grace.

So, so cold. So, so cold

Now see them coming, armed and forboding, two men as rough as the sea

High on the cliff-top, see swords a-flashing, you should know its the death of me

High on the cliff-top here every morning, i watch for the girl fine as lace

I wonder duly, wind blowing through me, was she truly my saving grace?

So, so cold. So, so cold

II watch the red sun crawl up the dawn sky, and the sea is back as coal.

I see you working, greet others passing, but will anyone pray for my soul?

So, so cold. So, so cold

Copyright © 2006 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

My second ghost story song. At first I think I had the roles reversed, but I thought there was too much of that, so I doomed the guy to pine over the bad girl, instead. Ooh - and I love Mark Knopfler & the Cheiftan's version, the absolute best version,  of The Lily of the West. Perhaps this was her first victim. - WJ

TRIVIA

The version of So, So Cold you hear on the video for this song was recorded in 2019, shot in Nathan & Susan Kula's barn, and features Lincoln Ginsberg on bodhran and vocals. - WJ

Waiting for the Rush

IYou see me racing down the hillside, beating time to make the bend

Soon she'll be walking past the mill-site, and from the trees I'll see her then

All the birdsong falls to nothing and the world begins to slow

All my senses fill with one thing, just one breath away from now

Standing, waiting for the water, as the breeze begins to shove

Bracing feet as current rises, waiting for

Waiting for

The rush of love

The rush of love

Now I've seen the changing seasons, and I've weathered many storms

Now I know love takes all reason,  and it comes in many forms

I still burn to feel the moment, I still reach to touch your hair

I confess my life has changed me, and no longer, am I fair

I'm still waiting for the water, as the breeze begins to shove

Bracing feet as current rises, waiting for

Waiting for

The rush of love

The rush of love

I see white upon the hillside, slowing time as snow flakes fall

All the ice has dammed the mill-site, silver moon above us all

Winter's hour has stole my power and my youth is buried deep

How I need the Summer of you, now for all eternity

I'll stand waiting for the water, as the breeze begins to shove

bracing feet as current rises, waiting for

waiting for

the rush of love

the rush of love

 

Copyright © 2006 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Jon Southwood & Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

This one is for Carolyn. My wife is from Lime Springs, "Best Town by a dam-site."  I had the lyrics for this a long time but couldn't come up with a decent melody so I handed this one to Jon to see what he could conjure. So of course he writes a melody and accompaniment prettier

 than  the words. Well, ok, all right, they're pretty ok, stop hitting me. - WJ

On the Road to What-May-Be

Jump on the road  to What-May-Be, we'll travel light to reach the sea

and who can know what we may find? Is the road harsh? Or is it kind?

On the road to What-May-Be, take my hand run with me

Across from Near-To-Far, turn a card change your star

And when we're tired, we'll sleep past dawn, douse the fire and travel on

And if we thirst, drink down the moon, discover joys end all too soon.

We'll dance like gypsies when moon is new, from flowery cups, we'll sip the dew

On the road to What-May-Be, take my hand run with me

Across from Near-To-Far, turn a card change your star

And when we're hungry, we'll steal a pie, from farmer's window  - it smells close by

we'l fight like pirates and sing their songs, and if we die, it won't last long

On the road to What-May-Be, take my hand run with me

Across from Near-To-Far, turn a card change your star

So come a-rovin' to What-May-Be, it's that long road not all can see

Live for adventure, all for one, here's to the journey- everyone

Jump

On the road to What-May-Be, take my hand run with me

Across from Near-To-Far, turn a card change your star!

Copyright © 2006 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

This one is for Taliesyn, my youngest, who pretends with greatest skill. And also dedicated to Liam and Rowan,  and Andy and Emily and Jacob, and  Shea and Emmet!

 

 

 

 

Be a kid, every day, for at least a little while. Imagine an amazing future, for I truly believe we are precisely who we imagine ourselves to be.- WJ

Old Green Gown

Young Tom Brown came empty handed to the party,

A merrier lad you'll never meet but poor as the night is dark. 

Sweet Nancy Clancy welcomed him, it was her birthday

With no gift to give he returned with her from a short walk in the park

 

She was grinning slyly, when I spied her dress was ruined

A long green stripe along her back from the collar and on down

That's when i discovered a flat spot in the garden, I put two and two together

Oh! He'd given her the old green gown!

-Old green gown-

Come on poor boy show her that you love her

-Old green gown-

Doesn't really matter if you don't have wealth or fame

-Old green gown-

Even if you can't find two coins to rub together

If you've nothing else to give her then, give her the old green gown

Black Jack Wallace had never ever been a poacher

Now he's running for his life because of one lone deer

the long armed law-men came, he had to leave the county

they caught up with him at road-side pub (alt. the Broken Harp)

and he had to leave his beer

His feet began to drag and his strength began to falter

He came upon a stately home, the perfect place to hide

The wealthy widow uproot saw him run into the stable

and watched him crawl into the straw with the law-men close behind

"What brings you here?" she said, "There's nothing here but sorrow.

A lonely widow all alone and no one here but me."

The law-men tipped their hats and took their searching elsewhere 

She went to the place where Jack had hid and told him, "You owe me."

Poor Jack emerged, grateful but embarrassed

"I've nothing to give you for your time," he said with a weary frown.

That's when she grabbed him and she threw him in the new mown hay

She smiled him and Said to him, "You'll be given' me the old green gown."

-Old green gown-

Come on poor boy show her that you love her

-Old green gown-

Doesn't really matter if you don't have wealth or fame

-Old green gown-

Even if you can't find two coins to rub together

If you've nothing else to give her then, give her the old green gown

 

Not everybody will find this to their liking,

This wasn't a tale of true love or soulmates lost at sea 

These days when even simple flowers cost a fortune

It's nice to know that even now the best things in life are free

-Old green gown-

Come on poor boy show her that you love her

-Old green gown-

Doesn't really matter if you don't have wealth or fame

-Old green gown-

Even if you can't find two coins to rub together

If you've nothing else to give her then, give her the old green gown

-Old green gown-

Come on poor boy show her that you love her

-Old green gown-

Doesn't really matter if you don't have wealth or fame

-Old green gown-

Even if you can't find two coins to rub together

If you've nothing else to give her then, give her the old green gown

Copyright © 2006 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by George Curtis.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

   I imagine George would explain that there are those who believe that the song 'Greensleeves' meant something far different from what the refined courtly love most historians would shelve it as; it meant instead, uh, it meant the courtiers were getting along fine in the garden and then leaving with grass stains. (It meant the horizontal disco.)

 

Also, he might include the frequent Wylde Nept disclaimer: It's not our fault, if your kid's get our jokes.-WJ

You'll Never Win

 

Well there's a trick I think I now understand, 

A little twist between women and men

Now I'll tell you so, I think you ought to know

No single line will work every time, 

A little line won't make the sun shine

You can shake your head, sleep in an empty bed

If you want to unlock a heart 

there's no correct way to start

you better just spin the wheel

and say what you feel

You'll never win. 

Before you begin; 

know you'll never win.

So that's that's the tip to all my good friends, 

Yeah that's the trick, that you'll never win

Now I'll tell you so, I think you ought to know

When you're right just admit that you're wrong

Dead on right, just remember this song

Logic will never work

argue and you're a jerk.

If you want to unlock a heart 

there's no correct way to start

you better just spin the wheel

and say what you feel

You'll never win. 

Before you begin; 

know you'll never win.

Even when she knows that she's wrong, 

she's right all along, 

she right and she's wrong

Hey what's the problem then, what can't you understand?

You'll never win. 

Before you begin; 

know you'll never win

Copyright © 2006 [Wylde Nept]. Lyrics by Westan James.  Composed by Wylde Nept.  All Rights Reserved.

TRIVIA

The undead lawyer for Wylde Nept recommends no further comment on this song, and instead i should refer folks to look at "It's not about the nail." video. The video has no connection to us, whatsoever, but it best explains my position in this song.  And this is the last song! Oh no! Sligo!-WJ

  • w-facebook
  • Twitter Clean