1. |
Wassailing Song
05:17
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Here we come a-wassailing among the leaves so green
Here we come a-wandering, so fair to be seen
Love and joy come to you, and to you a wassail, too
Fortune grant you a wassail and a Happy New Year
Fortune grant you a Happy New Year
Tear down the master of the house strip off his golden ring
Poor us a cup of ale so sweeter shall we sing
Love and joy come to you, and to you a wassail, too
Fortune grant you a wassail and a Happy New Year
Fortune grant you a Happy New Year
We have a little purse and it’s made of leather skin
We want a little sixpence to line it well within
Love and joy come to you, and to you a wassail, too
Fortune grant you a wassail and a Happy New Year
Fortune grant you a Happy New Year
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2. |
Of Holly and Ivy (II)
06:19
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Holly standeth in the hall fair to behold,
Ivy stands without the door; she is full sore a cold.
Nay, Ivy, nay, it shall not be, I wis,
Let Holly hold the mastery as the old custom is.
Holly and his merry men, they dancen and they sing;
Ivy and her maidens, they weepen and they wring.
Nay, Ivy, nay, it shall not be, I wis,
Let Holly hold the mastery as the old custom is.
Holly hath berries, as red as any rose,
The foresters, the hunters, keep them from the does.
Nay, Ivy, nay, it shall not be, I wis,
Let Holly hold the mastery as the old custom is.
Ivy hath berries as black as any sloe,
There come the owl and eat them as she go.
Nay, Ivy, nay, it shall not be, I wis,
Let Holly hold the mastery as the old custom is.
Holly hath birds a full fair flock,
The nightingale, the poppinjay, the gentle laverock.
Nay, Ivy, nay, it shall not be, I wis,
Let Holly hold the mastery as the old custom is.
Good Ivy, good Ivy, what birds hast thou,
None but the owlet that cries How! How!
Nay, Ivy, nay, it shall not be, I wis,
Let Holly hold the mastery as the old custom is.
Holly’s torn from off his throne, cast into the street,
Ivy reaches out her hand, she helps him to his feet.
Nay, Holly nay, it shall not be, I wis,
Custom’s poor excuse for mastery, let the old ways desist.
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3. |
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Will you go to the rolling of the stones,
The tossing of the ball?
Or will you go and see pretty Susie
Dance among the moors,
I won’t go to the rolling of the stones
The tossing of the ball
For I will go and see pretty Susie
Dance among the moors,
They had not danced a single dance,
Not half the floor around,
When the sword that hung from her brother’s side,
Gave him a fatal wound,
They picked him up they carried him along,
They laid him on the ground,
And there he lay til the break of day,
Made not a single sound,
Susie came, she came wandering by,
A tablet under her arm,
And when she came to her true love's grave,
She began to charm,
Susie charmed the birds from out the sky,
the fish from out of the bay,
She charmed her true love out of his grave,
Where he could no longer stay,
Will you go to the rolling of the stones,
the tossing of the ball?
Or will you go and see pretty Susie,
Dance among the moors?
I won’t go to the rolling of the stones,
The tossing of the ball,
For I will go and see pretty Susie,
And dance among them all,
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4. |
A Winter of Discontent
06:21
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Gnarl Edinburgh, UK
Doom-Noise inspired by the landscapes and folklore of the British Isles.
Brooding guitars
weave between layered field recordings and cascades of searing noise.
While some of the sources of my inspiration may have been co-opted by the far right, Gnarl will always remain fiercely anti-fascist.
FFO: Sunn O))), Bismuth, Harvestman, Nadja
... more
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