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Scotland

The McCalmans

The McCalmans: The Smuggler

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  • The Smuggler
    • 1975 - Transatlantic XTRA 1149 LP
  • The Smuggler & Burn the Witch
    • 1997 - Castle ESM CD 521 CD
  • Side One
    1. Smuggler
    2. If Mother Should Die
    3. Gardens
    4. Hornpipes/Reels
    5. Mount and Go
    6. The Boatie Rows/The Carls of Dysart
    7. The Flowers o' the Forest
    8. The Barnyards o' Delgaty
  • Side Two
    1. Bar-Room
    2. No Churchman Am I
    3. The Silkie of Sule Skerry
    4. A Man's a Man For A' That
    5. Nagasaki (Dixon/Warren)
    6. Johnnie Cope
    7. Skye Boat Song
    8. Tammy Traddlefeet/The Rising (Trad. arr. by The McCalmans/MacMillian)

  • The McCalmans
    • Derek Moffat: vocals, guitar, mandolin, bodhrán
    • Ian McCalman: vocals, guitar, English guitar
    • Hamish Bayne: vocals, mandolin, whistle, concertina
  • Musicians
    • Dave Moses: string bass, bass recorder
  • Credits
    • Produced by Ritchie Gold
    • Engineer: Barry Hammond
    • Recorded at the Chipping Norton Recording Studios, Oxfordshire, April, 1975.
    • All songs Traditional arranged by The McCalmans, unless otherwise noted

Smuggler

The boat rides south o Ailsa Craig, in the waning of the light,
Theres thirty men in Lendalfit, tae mak our burden light.
Theres thirty horse at Hazelholm, with the halters on their heads.
All set this night upon you hight, if wind and water speed.

Smugglers drink of the Frenchmans wine,
And the darkest night is the smugglers time,
Away we ran from the exciseman,
Its a smugglers life for me,
Its a smugglers life for me.

O lass ye hea a cosy bed, and cattle ye hae ten,
Can ye no live-a lawful life, and live wi lawful men.
But must I live with namely goods, while theres foreign gear sae fine,
Must I drink at the waterside, and France sae full of wine.

O weel I like tae see ye Kate, with the bairnie on thy knee,
But my heart is now wi the gallant crew, that plough thro the angry sea,
The bitter-gales, the tightest sales, the sheltered bay our goal.
Its the wayward life, its the smugglers strife, its the joy of the smugglers soul.

And when at last the sun comes up, and the cargo safely stored,
Like sinless saints to church we go, Gods mercy to afford,
And its champagne fine for communion wine, and the parson drinks it too,
With a sly wink prays, forgive these men, for they know not what they do.