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Rant and Roar

from Will Play For Kibble by SaltyPaws

/

lyrics

Chorus:
We'll rant and we'll roar like true Newfoundlanders
We'll rant and we'll roar on deck and below
Until we strikes bottom inside the two sunkers
When straight through the Channel to Toslow we'll go.

My name it is Robert, they call me Bob Pittman
I sail in the Ino with Skipper Tom Brown
I'm bound to have Polly or Biddy or Molly
As soon as I'm able to plank the cash down.

I'm a son of a sea cook, and a cook in a trader
I can dance, I can sing, I can reef the mainboom
I can handle a jigger, and cuts a fine figure
Whenever I gets in a boat's standing room.

If the voyage is good, this fall I will do it
I wants two pounds ten for a ring and the priest
A couple of dollars for clean shirts and collars
And a handful of coppers to make up a feast.

There's plump little Polly, her name is Goldsworthy
There's John Coady's Kitty and Mary Tibbo
There's Clara from Brule and young Martha Foley
But the nicest of all is me girl from Toslow.

Farewell and adieu to ye girls of Valen
Farewell and adieu to ye girls in the Cove
I'm bound to the westward, to the wall with the hole in
I'll take her from Toslow the wide world to rove.

Farewell and adieu to ye girls of St. Kryan's
Of Paradise and Presque, Big and Little Bona
I'm bound unto Toslow to marry sweet Biddy
And if I don't do so I'm afraid of her da'.

I've bought me a house from Katherine Davis
A twenty pound bed from Jimmy McGrath
I'll get me a settle, a pot and a kettle
And then I'll be ready for Biddy, hurrah!

O, I brought in the Ino this spring from the city,
Some rings and gold brooches for the girls in the Bay;
I bought me a case-pipe —- they call it a meerschaum —-
It melted like butter upon a hot day.

I went to a dance one night at Fox Harbour,
There were plenty of girls, so nice as you'd wish;
There was one pretty maiden a-chewin' of frankgum
Just like a young kitten a-gnawing fresh fish.

Then here is a health to the girls of Fox Harbour
Of Oderin and Presque, Crabbes Hole and Brule
Now let ye be jolly, don't be melancholy
I can't marry all or in chokey I'd be.

We hove our ship to with a wind from the Sou'west.
We hove our ship to deep soundings to take.
'Twas 45 fathoms with a light sandy bottom,
We squared our mainyard and up channel did make.

Now let every man toss off his full bumper
Let every man drink up and be glad.
We'll drink and be jolly, and drown melancholy.
So here's to the health of each fine strappin' lad.

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SaltyPaws Punta Gorda, Florida

When you think of wandering minstrels, do you ever think they might live on a boat? SaltyPaws is a sailing acoustic duo, living aboard their catamaran, sailing and singing the Atlantic eastern seaboard. You'll hear guitar and 5 string banjo, spiced with harmonica and concertina. Wherever the boat is in port, you'll find Bentley and Jim joining a jam, at an open mic, or busking a street corner. ... more

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