The Songs From Irish Row CD Online

We are happy to offer some special notes on all of the songs on the CD. Some of the text will be identical to that found on the CD, while there are special comments and further information added--some of which was not able to be printed due to size constraints. We hope you will enjoy this companion to your CD purchase. There are additional external links to other sites offering lyrics and guitar chords and tabulature for your convenience.

liner notes

Barnyards of Delgaty

We've been known to play some Scottish tunes, and this Bothy ballad from the Aberdeenshire region is a popular tale of some fellow who started drinking and exaggerating at about the same time in a Pub during a local hiring fair. 

That subject makes the song both ancient and contemporary.  A bothy is a dirty thatch cottage usually inhabited by working farm laborers, and these songs put actual events to the music of popular fiddle or pipe tunes of the 19th century.
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While it appears late on the CD, this particular song was the first chosen for the album. It gives Brian the chance to sing harmony with the vocals and bring layered guitars into the mix.

One of the joys of doing this CD was the opportunity for audiences to hear what the band can do with more vocals and instrumentation in songs. It's the one thing Brian misses when playing solo, as he often does in Pubs.

We hope you enjoyed listening to these different aspects of our music on the CD.

The Barnyards of Delgaty

As I go down to Turra Market
Turra Market for to fee,
I fell in with a wealthy farmer
The Barnyards of Delgaty.

Lint-a-naddy, tour-a-naddy
Lint-a-naddy, tour-a-nee
Lint-a-low-rin, low-rin, low-rin
The Barnyards of Delgaty.

He promised me the one best horse
That 'ere I set my eyes upon;
But when I got to the barnyard
There was nothing there but skin and bone!

As I go down to church on Sunday
Many's the bonnie lass I see;
Sittin' by her mother's side
Winkin' o'er the pews at me.

I can drink and no be drunken
I can fight and no be slain;
I can court with another man's lass
And still be welcome to me 'ain.

Now my candle is burnt out
My snotter's fairly on the wane;
Fair ye well, ye barnyards
You'll never see me here again.

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