the rosemary - jon raven lyrics
’twas way up in brummagem, so i do hear say
a boat by the name of the rosemary lay
she was clothed up and painted in traditional style
but she hadn’t carried for many a mile
fol*de*rol, fol*de*ri*do, sing fol*de*rol*day
it’s the song they’re all singing down brummagem way
well, along came a boatman, the old boat to see
says he, “here’s a craft that is useful to me
“i’ll load her with coal and to london, i’ll steer.”
says the boatman to the owner, “if i take her from here.”
fol*de*rol, fol*de*ri*do, sing fol*de*rol*day
it’s the song they’re all singing down brummagem way
well, the owner said, “yes,” and the boatman, “okay.”
then into the cabin, he went straightaway
he lit up the stove, cleaned cobwebs and mold
polished the beam ’til it shone like fine gold
fol*de*rol, fol*de*ri*do, sing fol*de*rol*day
it’s the song they’re all singing down brummagem way
well, he sang and he labored far into the night
got up in the morning before it was light
put the rusty blowlamp on the cylinder head
“’tis a fine day for boating,” the old boatman said
fol*de*rol, fol*de*ri*do, sing fol*de*rol*day
it’s the song they’re all singing down brummagem way
he’s primed up the engine, a prayer in his heart
kicked on the flywheel to see if she’d start
with a bang like the sound of a ten*pounder gun
the aged old bolinder started to run
fol*de*rol, fol*de*ri*do, sing fol*de*rol*day
it’s the song they’re all singing down brummagem way
well, he’s cast off the fore*end of the counter he stood
as the rosemary shook herself free of the mud
with tears in his eyes, says the boatman, “we may
“get right down to coventry ‘fore the end of the day.”
fol*de*rol, fol*de*ri*do, sing fol*de*rol*day
it’s the song they’re all singing down brummagem way
on dark stormy nights ’round the fall of the year
if the beat of a bolinder distant you hear
it’s not clayton’s stour, umea, or the tay
it’s the ghost of that boatman and the old rosemary
fol*de*rol, fol*de*ri*do, sing fol*de*rol*day
it’s the song they’re all singing down brummagem way
fol*de*rol, fol*de*ri*do, sing fol*de*rol*day
it’s the song they’re all singing down brummagem way
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