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benjamin.coudrin 16 years ago
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  1. 36
      dans_les_prisons_de_nantes.tex
  2. 29
      dirty_old_town.tex
  3. 30
      drunken_sailor.tex
  4. 42
      eileen_og.tex
  5. 69
      irish_rover.tex
  6. 49
      johnny_i_hardly_knew_ye.tex
  7. 45
      jug_of_punch.tex
  8. 32
      le_forban1.tex
  9. 40
      le_forban2.tex
  10. 47
      leprechaun.tex
  11. 60
      mermaid.tex
  12. 34
      quinze_marins.tex
  13. 69
      rocky_road_to_dublin.tex
  14. 1393
      songbook.sty
  15. 165
      songbook.tex
  16. 28
      whiskey_in_the_jar.tex
  17. 45
      whiskey_you_re_the_devil.tex

36
dans_les_prisons_de_nantes.tex

@ -0,0 +1,36 @@
\begin{SBVerse*}
\Ch{Am}{Dans} les prisons de Nantes \Ch{G}{~} (bis)
Y avait un \Ch{G}{prison}\Ch{Am}{nier}
\end{SBVerse*}
~\\
Personne ne vint le "vouère"\\
Que la fille du geôlier\\
~\\
Un jour il lui demande\\
Et que dit-on de "moué" ?\\
~\\
On dit de vous en ville\\
Que vous serez pendu\\
~\\
Mais s'il faut qu'on me pende\\
Déliez-moi les pieds\\
~\\
La fille était jeunette\\
Les pieds lui a délié\\
~\\
Le prisonnier alerte\\
Dans la Loire s'est jeté\\
~\\
Dès qu'il fût sur les rives\\
Il se prit à chanter\\
~\\
Je chante pour les belles\\
Surtout celle du geôlier\\
~\\
Si je reviens à Nantes\\
Oui je l'épouserai\\
~\\
Dans les prisons de Nantes\\
Y avait un prisonnier\\
~\\

29
dirty_old_town.tex

@ -0,0 +1,29 @@
\begin{SBVerse*}
I met my \Ch{G}{love}, by the gas yard wall
Dreamed a \Ch{C}{dream}, by the old \Ch{G}{canal}
Kissed my \Ch{Em}{girl}, by the factory \Ch{G}{wall}
Dirty old \Ch{D}{town}, dirty old \Ch{Em}{town}
\end{SBVerse}
~\\
I heard a siren from the dock\\
Saw a train cut the night on fire\\
Smelled the breeze on the smokey wind\\
Dirty old town, dirty old town\\
~\\
I'm going to make a big sharp ax\\
Shining steel tempered in the fire\\
I'll cut ye down like an old dead tree\\
Dirty old town, dirty old town\\
~\\
Clouds are drifting on the street\\
Cats are prowling on their beats\\
Springs a girl on the streets at night\\
Dirty old town, dirty old town\\
~\\
I Met my love, by the gas yard wall\\
Dreamed a dream, by the old canal\\
Kissed my girl, by the factory wall\\
Dirty old town, dirty old town\\

30
drunken_sailor.tex

@ -0,0 +1,30 @@
\begin{SBVerse*}
\Ch{Dm}{What} shall we do with a drunken sailor
\Ch{C}{What} shall we do with a drunken sailor
\Ch{Dm}{What} shall we do with a drunken sailor
\CH{C}{Early} in the \Ch{Dm}{mornin'}
\end{SBVerse*}
~\\
\begin{SBChorus}
\Ch{Dm}{Wey} Hey and Up she rises
\Ch{C}{Wey} Hey and Up she rises
\Ch{Dm}{Wey} Hey and Up she rises
\Ch{C}{Early} in the \Ch{Dm}{mornin'}
\end{SBChorus}
~\\
Put him in the longboat till he's sober\\
~\\
Shave his belly with a rusty rasor\\
~\\
Give him a dose of salt and water\\
~\\
Put him in the bed with the captain's daughter\\
~\\
That's what we'll do with a drunken sailor\\

42
eileen_og.tex

@ -0,0 +1,42 @@
\begin{SBVerse*}
\Ch{Am}{Eileen} Oge, and \Ch{E7}{that} the darlin's \Ch{Am}{name} is, \Ch{G}{through} the barony her \Ch{D}{features} they were \Ch{G}{famous}
\Ch{Am}{If} we loved her, \Ch{E7}{who} is there to \Ch{Am}{blame} us, for wasn't she the \Ch{E7}{pride} of Petra\Ch{Am}{vore} ?
\Ch{F}{But} her \Ch{G7}{beauty} \Ch{C}{made} us all so shy, \Ch{Dm}{not} a \Ch{E7}{man} could \Ch{Am}{look} her in the eye
\Ch{F}{Boys}, O \Ch{G7}{boys}, sure \Ch{C}{that's} reason why we're in \Ch{Am}{mourning} for the \Ch{E7}{pride} of Petra\Ch{Am}{vore}
\end{SBVerse*}
~\\
\begin{SBChorus}
\Ch{F}{Eileen} \Ch{G7}{Og}, me \Ch{C}{heart} is growing grey \Ch{Dm}{ever} since the \Ch{E7}{day}, you \Ch{Am}{wandered} far away
\Ch{F}{Eileen} \Ch{G7}{Og}, there's \Ch{C}{good} fish in the sea but there's \Ch{Am}{none} of them like the \Ch{E7}{pride} of Petra\Ch{Am}{vore}
\end{SBChorus}
~\\
Friday at the fair of Ballintubber \\
Eileen met McGrath the cattle jobber\\
I'd like to set me mark upon the robber \\
For he stole away the Pride of Petravore\\
He never seemed to see the girl at all \\
Even when she ogled him underneath her shawl \\
Looking big and masterful when she was looking small\\
Most provoking for the Pride of Petravore \\
~\\
So it went as it was in the beginning \\
Eileen Og was bent upon the winning \\
Big McGrath contentedly was grinning\\
Being courted by the Pride of Petravore\\
Says he, \og I know a girl who'd knock you into fits \fg \\
At that Eileen nearly lost her wits \\
The upshot of the ruction was that now the robber sits \\
With his arm around the Pride of Petravore \\
~\\
Boys, O boys, with fate 'tis hard to grapple \\
Of my eye 'cause Eileen was the apple \\
And to see her walkin' to the chapel \\
Wid the hardest featured man in Petravore \\
Now me boys, this is all I have to say \\
When you do your courting make no display\\
If you want them to run after you just walk the other way \\
For they're mostly like the Pride of Petravore \\

69
irish_rover.tex

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\begin{SBVerse*}
On the \Ch{G}{Fourth} of July, \Ch{C}{1806}
We set \Ch{G}{sail} from the sweet Cobh of \Ch{D}{Cork}
We were \Ch{G}{sailing} away with a \Ch{C}{cargo} of bricks
For the \Ch{G}{Grand} City \Ch{D}{Hall} in New \Ch{G}{York}
'Twas a \Ch{G}{wonderful} craft, She was \Ch{D}{rigged} fore and aft
And \Ch{G}{oh}, how the wild wind \Ch{D}{drove} her
She stood \Ch{G}{several} blasts, She had \Ch{C}{twenty} seven masts
And they \Ch{G}{called} her The \Ch{D}{Irish} \Ch{G}{Rover}
\end{SBVerse}
~\\
~\\
~\\
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags\\
We had two million barrels of stones\\
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides'\\
We had four million barrels of bones\\
We had five million hogs, six million dogs\\
Seven million barrels of porter\\
We had eight million barrels of old nanny goate tails\\
In the hold of the Irish Rover\\
~\\
~\\
There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute\\
And the ladies lined up for a set\\
He would tootle with skill for each sparkling quadrille\\
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet\\
With his smart witty talk, he was cock of the walk\\
As he rolled the dames under and over\\
They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance\\
That he sailed in The Irish Rover\\
~\\
~\\
~\\
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee\\
There was Hogan from County Tyrone\\
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work\\
And a man from Westmeath called Malone\\
There was Slugger O'Toole, who was drunk as a rule\\
And Fighting Bill Tracy from Dover\\
And your man, Mick McCann, from the banks of the Bann\\
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover\\
~\\
~\\
For a sailor its' always a bother in life\\
It's so lonesome by night and by day\\
That he longs for the shore and a charming young whore \\
Who will melt all his troubles away\\
Oh, the noise and the rout swillin' poiteen and stout\\
For him soon the torment's over\\
Of the love of a maid he is never afraid\\
An old salt from the Irish Rover\\
~\\
~\\
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out\\
And the ship lost its way in the fog\\
And that whale of a crew was reduced down to two\\
Just myself and the Captain's old dog\\
Then the ship struck a rock. Oh Lord! what a shock\\
The bulkhead was turned right over\\
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned\\
I'm the last of The Irish Rover

49
johnny_i_hardly_knew_ye.tex

@ -0,0 +1,49 @@
\begin{SBVerse*}
While \Ch{Em}{goin'} the road to sweet Athy, \Ch{G}{Hurroo!} Hurroo !
While \Ch{Em}{goin'} the road to sweet Athy, \Ch{G}{Hurroo} ! \Ch{B7}{Hurroo} !
While \Ch{Em}{goin'} the road to \Ch{Am}{sweet} Athy,
A \Ch{G}{stick} in the hand and a \Ch{B7}{drop} in the eye
A \Ch{Em}{dole}ful \Ch{Am}{damsel} \Ch{G}{I} heard \Ch{B7}{cry},
\Ch{Em}{Johnny} I \Ch{D}{hardly} \Ch{Em}{knew} ye !
\end{SBVerse*}
~\\
\begin{SBChorus}
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, Hurroo ! Hurroo ! (bis)
With your drums and guns and drums and guns,
The enemy nearly slew ye
Oh me darling dear, Ye look so queer
Johnny I hardly knew ye
\end{SBChorus}
~\\
Where are the eyes that look so mild, Hurroo ! Hurroo ! (bis) \\
Where are the eyes that look so mild \\
When my poor heart you so beguiled \\
Why did ye skedaddle from me and the child \\
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye. \\
~\\
Where are the legs with which ye run, Hurroo ! Hurroo ! (bis)\\
Where are the legs with which ye run \\
When ye went for to carry a gun \\
Indeed your dancing days are done \\
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye. \\
~\\
Ye haven't an arm, Ye haven't a leg, Hurroo ! Hurroo ! (bis)
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg \\
Ye're an armless, boneless, chickenless egg \\
Ye'll have to be put in a bowl to beg \\
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye. \\
~\\
I'm happy for to see ye home, Hurroo ! Hurroo ! (bis)\\
I'm happy for to see ye home \\
All from the island of Sulloon \\
So low in flesh, so high in bone \\
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye. \\

45
jug_of_punch.tex

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One pleasent evening in the month of June,\\
As I was sleeping in my room,\\
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch,\\
And the song he sang was The Jug Of Punch.\\
\textbf{Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
A small bird sang on an ivy bunch,\\
And the song he sang was the jug of punch.}\\
~\\
What more diveration can a man desire,\\
Than to sit him by an alehouse fire,\\
Upon his knee a pritty wench,\\
And on the table a jug of punch.\\
\textbf{Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
Upon his knee a pritty wench,\\
And on the table a jug of punch.}\\
~\\
Let the doctors come with all their art\\
They'll make no impression upon me heart\\
Even the cripple forgets his hunch\\
When he's snug outside of a jug of punch\\
\textbf{Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
Even the cripple forgets his hunch\\
When he's snug outside of a jug of punch.}\\
~\\
If I get drunk, well, me money's me own,\\
And them don't like me, they can leave me alone;\\
I'll tune me fiddle and I'll rosin me bow\\
And I'll be welcome wherever I go.\\
\textbf{Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
I'll tune me fiddle and I'll rosin me bow\\
And I'll be welcome wherever I go.}\\
~\\
And when I'm dead and I'm in me grave\\
No costly tombstone will I crave.\\
Lay me down by me native peat,\\
With a jug of punch at me head and feet.\\
\textbf{Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
Too-ra loo-ra loo, too-ra loo-ra lay,\\
Lay me down by me native peat,\\
With a jug of punch at me head and feet.}\\

32
le_forban1.tex

@ -0,0 +1,32 @@
A moi l'forban, que m'importe la gloire,\\
Les lois du monde, et qu'importe la mort ? \\
Sur l'océan j'ai planté ma victoire,\\
Et bois mon vin dans une coupe d'or. \\
Vivre d'orgie est ma seule espérance, \\
Le seul bonheur que j'aie pu conquérir. \\
C'est sur les flots qu'jai passé mon enfance, \\
C'est sur les flots qu'un forban doit mourir\\
~\\
\textbf{Vin qui pétille, femme gentille, \\
Sous tes baisers brûlants d'amour ; \\
Plaisirs, batailles, Vive la canaille ! \\
Je bois, je chante, et je tue tour à tour\\}
~\\
Peut-être qu'au mât d'une barque étrangère\\
Mon corps, un jour, servira d'étendard\\
Et tout mon sang rougira la galère\\
Aujourd'hui fête et demain le hasard. \\
Allons esclave, allons, debout mon brave,\\
Buvons la vie et le vin à grands pots ; \\
Aujourd'hui fête, et puis demain, peut-être \\
Ma tête ira s'engloutir dans les flots.\\
~\\
Peut-être qu'un jour, par un coup de fortune \\
Je capturerai l'or d'un beau gallion ;\\
Riche à pouvoir vous acheter la lune, \\
Je m'en irai vers d'autres horizons. \\
Là, respecté, comme un vrai gentilhomme, \\
Moi qui ne fus qu'un forban, qu'un bandit, \\
Je pourrai, comme le fils d'un roi, tout comme \\
Mourir, peut-être, dedans un grand lit.\\
~\\

40
le_forban2.tex

@ -0,0 +1,40 @@
A moi forban que m'importe la gloire \\
Né fils de roi et de prostituée \\
Sur des cadavres j'ai chanté la victoire \\
Et dans un crâne j'ai bu la liberté \\
Vierge craintive, toi, ma captive \\
Ce soir je vais dévorer tes appâts\\
Encore brûlant d'une autre amante \\
Tes vertus vont expirer dans mes bras.\\
\\
\textbf{Vin qui pétille, femme gentille \\
Sous tes baisers brûlant d'amour, oui d'amour \\
Plaisirs... batailles... vive la canaille \\
Je bois, je chante et je tue tour à tour.\\}
\\
Etant forban je vis dans ma cabine \\
En méprisant les lois , même la mort \\
Ne vivant que de meurtre et de rapine \\
Je bois mon vin dans une coupe d'or \\
Vivre d'orgie est ma seule espérance \\
Le seul bonheur que j'ai su conquérir \\
car sur les flots j'ai bercé mon enfance \\
Et sur les flots un forban doit mourir\\
\\
Pendu au mât d'une barque étrangère \\
Mon corps un jour servira d'étendard \\
Et tout mon sang rougira la galère \\
Aujourd'hui fête et demain le hasard \\
Allons esclaves, debout mes braves \\
Buvons l'ivresse et l'orgie à grands flots \\
Aujourd'hui fête , demain peut être\\
Mon corps ira s'engloutir dans les flots\\
\\
Si par hasard par un coup de fortune \\
Je capturais l'or d'un beau galion \\
Riche à pouvoir décrocher la lune \\
Je m'en irai vers d'autres horizons \\
Là, vénéré tout comme un gentilhomme\\
Moi qui ne fut qu'un forban qu'un bandit \\
Là je pourrais peut être tout comme\\
Un grand roi dormir dedans un bon lit\\

47
leprechaun.tex

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There's a Leprechaun in me head, and I wish that I were dead\\
For I don't think he'll e'er let me be.\\
Oh, he tempts me with his gold, and if I were e'er so bold,\\
I'd strangle him and leave him in the street.\\
~\\
\textbf{Well, he says to me, "Ah, you're no Irish Laddie!\\
And ye call that thing a harp?"\\
But each time I share the lore that I am learning.\\
He hides in shame while my friends they chant.\\
~\\
La ta tee, da diddley dee, la ta tee ta tee da\\
La ta tee, da diddley diddley dai\\
La ta tee, da diddley dee, la ta tee ta tee da\\
La ta tee, da diddley diddley dai\\}
~\\
There's a leprechaun in my room. He swats me with a broom.\\
That's the reason I forget the words of this song.\\
Well, he shows me a four-leaf clover, and before me song is over,\\
It's buried in a bowl of Lucky Charms.\\
~\\
Ther'es a leprechaun on the floor, and he says that I'm a bore.\\
He yawns aloud as I sing my song.\\
He feigns one last breathe stolen, but I see his eyes are open.\\
And he's watching me with envy deep inside.\\
~\\
There's a leprechaun on a hill, and his gold is buried there.\\
So I grab him by the neck 'fore he gets away.\\
The pot's too heavy, he giggles, so I pinch me just a little,\\
And he thinks he's fooled me as I run away.\\
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% A AJOUTER %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
%KEY F
%verse:
%D D G D
%D D D A
%D D G D
%D D D-A-D
%chorus:
%G G G D
%G G G A
%D D G D
%D D D-A-D
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

60
mermaid.tex

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\begin{SBVerse}
Twas \Ch{G}{Friday} morn when \Ch{C}{we} set \Ch{G}{sail}
And \Ch{C}{we} were not \Ch{D7}{far} from the \Ch{G}{land}
When the captain, he spied a \Ch{C}{lovely} \Ch{G}{mermaid}
With a \Ch{C}comb and a \Ch{D7}{glass} in her \Ch{G}{hand}
\end{SBVerse*}
~\\
\begin{SBChorus}
O the ocean's waves will roll
And the stormy winds will \Ch{D7}{blow}
While \Ch{G}{we} poor sailors go \Ch{C}{skipping} to the \Ch{G}{top}
And the \Ch{C}{landlubbers} \Ch{D7}{lie} down \Ch{G}{below} (below, below)
And the \Ch{C}{landlubbers} \Ch{D7}{lie} down \Ch{G}{below}
\end{SBChorus}
~\\
And up spoke the captain of our gallant ship\\
And a well-spoken man was he\\
I have me a wife in Salem by the sea\\
And tonight she a widow will be\\
~\\
And up spoke the cookie of our gallant ship\\
And a red hot cookie was he\\
Saying I care much more for my pots and my pans\\
Than I do for the bottom of the sea\\
~\\
Then up spoke the cabinboy, of our gallant ship\\
And a nasty little lad was he.\\
I'm not quite sure I can spell "mermaid"\\
But I'm going to the bottom of the sea.\\
~\\
Then three times around went our gallant ship\\
And three times around went she\\
Three times around went our gallant ship\\
And she sank to the bottom of the sea\\
%%%%%%%%%%%%% A AJOUTER %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
%KEY G
%verse:
%G G C C
%C D7 G
%G G C C
%C D7 G
%chorus:
%G G G G
%G G D7 D7
%G G C C
%C D7 G
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

34
quinze_marins.tex

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\begin{SBChorus}
\Ch{Dm}{Quinze} marins sur le bahut du \Ch{C}{mort}
Hop la ho ! une bouteille de \Ch{Dm}{rhum}
A boire et l'diable avait réglé leur \Ch{C}{sort}
Hop la \Ch{Dm}{ho} ! une \Ch{C}{bouteille} de \Ch{Dm}{rhum}
\end{SBChorus}
~\\
\begin{SBVerse}
Long John Silver a pris le commandement
Des marins, et vogue la galère
Il tient ses hommes comme il tient le vent
Tout l'monde a peur de Long John Silver.
\end{SBVerse}
~\\
C'est Bill, le second du corsaire,\\
Le capitaine Flint en colère\\
Qu'est revenu du royaume des morts\\
Pour hanter la cache au trésor.\\
~\\
Essaye un peu de l'contrecarrer,\\
Et tu iras où tant d'autres sont allés\\
Quelqu's uns aux vergues et quelqu's uns par d'sus bord\\
Tout l'monde pour nourrir les poissons d'abord.\\
~\\
Nous finirons par danser la gigue\\
La corde au cou, au quai des pendus\\
Toi, John Forest, et toi, John Merigue\\
Si près du gibet qu'j'en ai l'cou tordu.\\

69
rocky_road_to_dublin.tex

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In the merry month of May, From my home I started,\\
Left the girls of Tuam, Nearly broken hearted,\\
Saluted father dear, Kissed my darlin' mother,\\
Drank a pint of beer, My grief and tears to smother,\\
Then off to reap the corn, And leave where I was born,\\
I cut a stout blackthorn, To banish ghost and goblin,\\
In a brand new pair of brogues, I rattled o'er the bogs,\\
And frightened all the dogs,On the rocky road to Dublin. \\
\\
\textbf{One, two, three, four five,\\
Hunt the hare and turn her\\
Down the rocky road\\
And all the ways to Dublin,\\
Whack-fol-lol-de-ra.\\}
\\
In Mullingar that night, I rested limbs so weary,\\
Started by daylight, Next mornin' light and airy,\\
Took a drop of the pure, To keep my heart from sinkin',\\
That's an Irishman's cure, Whene'er he's on for drinking.\\
To see the lasses smile, Laughing all the while,\\
At my curious style, 'Twould set your heart a-bubblin'.\\
They ax'd if I was hired, The wages I required,\\
Till I was almost tired, Of the rocky road to Dublin. \\
\\
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity,\\
To be so soon deprived, A view of that fine city.\\
Then I took a stroll, All among the quality,\\
My bundle it was stole, In a neat locality;\\
Something crossed my mind, Then I looked behind;\\
No bundle could I find, Upon my stick a wobblin'.\\
Enquirin' for the rogue, They said my Connacht brogue,\\
Wasn't much in vogue, On the rocky road to Dublin. \\
\\
From there I got away, My spirits never failin'\\
Landed on the quay As the ship was sailin';\\
Captain at me roared, Said that no room had he,\\
When I jumped aboard, A cabin found for Paddy,\\
Down among the pigs I played some funny rigs,\\
Danced some hearty jigs, The water round me bubblin',\\
When off Holyhead, I wished myself was dead,\\
Or better far instead, On the rocky road to Dublin. \\
\\
The boys of Liverpool, When we safely landed,\\
Called myself a fool; I could no longer stand it;\\
Blood began to boil, Temper I was losin',\\
Poor ould Erin's isle They began abusin',\\
"Hurrah my soul," sez I, My shillelagh I let fly;\\
Some Galway boys were by, Saw I was a hobble in,\\
Then with a loud hurray, They joined in the affray.\\
We quickly cleared the way, For the rocky road to Dublin. \\
\\
%KEY Dm \\
\\
%verse:\\
%Dm C \\
%Dm C\\
%Dm C\\
%Dm C\\
%Dm F Dm F\\
%Dm F Dm \\
%Dm F Dm F\\
%Dm C \\
\\
\\
%chorus: C Dm\\
%Dm \\
%Dm\\
%C\\
%Dm \\

1393
songbook.sty

File diff suppressed because it is too large

165
songbook.tex

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\documentclass[a4paper,10pt]{book}
% histoire de ne plus être emmerdé avec les accents et autres conneries
\usepackage[french]{babel}
\usepackage[utf8]{inputenc}
\usepackage[T1]{fontenc}
\usepackage[chordbk,compactsong]{songbook}
\usepackage{musixtex}
\begin{document}
\title{\Large\bf Shiver Me Timbers \\ ~\\ Songs \begin{tiny}from the\end{tiny} Book}
\author{Benjamin COUDRIN}
\maketitle
\makeTitleIndex
%%%%%%%%%%% S E T - L I S T %%%%%%%%%%%%
\chapter*{Songs from the Set-list}
\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{Songs from the Set-list}
\subsection*{KERNEL SET}
\begin{itemize}
\item Kesh Jig / Blackthorn Stick
\item Irish Rover
\item The Mermaid
\item Kerry Polka (Egan's Polka) / Britches Full Of Stitches / Finnish Polka
\item Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye
\item Whiskey In The Jar
\item Quinze Marins / Drunken Sailor
\item Dérobée de Guingamp
\item Morrison's Jig / Joe Cooley's Reel
\item Dirty Old Town
\item Le Forban
\item Drowsy Maggie / Glasgow's Reel
\item The Wild Rover
\item The Leprechaun
\item Rights of Men / The Pride of Petravore
\end{itemize}
\subsection*{OPTIONALS (sous réserve de travail)}
\begin{itemize}
\item The Jug Of Punch
\item Dans Les Prisons de Nantes
\item Banish Misfortune
\item Devil's Dream
\item Whiskey You're The Devil
\item Rocky Road To Dublin
\end{itemize}
%%%%%%%%%%% S O N G S F R O M T H E S E A %%%%%%%%%%%%
\chapter{Songs from the sea}
\begin{song}{Irish Rover}{G}{~}{irish traditional}{}{}
\input irish_rover.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{The Mermaid}{G}{Child Ballad 289}{traditional}{}{}
\input mermaid.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{Quinze Marins (\textit{Dead Man's Chest})}{Dm}{~}{R.L. Stevenson and Y.E. Allison}{}{}
\input quinze_marins.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{Drunken Sailor}{Dm}{Capstan shanty}{traditional}{}{}
\input drunken_sailor.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{Le Forban (version de terre)}{C}{~}{traditionnel breton}{}{}
\input le_forban1.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{Le Forban (version de mer)}{C}{~}{traditionnel breton}{}{}
\input le_forban2.tex
\end{song}
%%%%%%%%% S O N G S F R O M T H E B A T T L E F I E L D %%%%%%%%%
\chapter{Songs from the battlefield}
\begin{song}{Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye}{Em}{~}{irish traditional}{}{}
\input johnny_i_hardly_knew_ye.tex
\end{song}
%%%%%%%%% S O N G S F R O M T H E R O A D %%%%%%%%%
\chapter{Songs from the road}
\begin{song}{Whiskey In The Jar}{G}{~}{irish traditional}{}{}
\input whiskey_in_the_jar.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{Rocky Road To Dublin}{Dm}{~}{irish traditional}{}{}
\input rocky_road_to_dublin.tex
\end{song}
%%%%%%%%% S O N G S F R O M T H E T O W N %%%%%%%%%%
\chapter{Songs from the town}
\begin{song}{Dirty Old Town}{G}{~}{Ewan MacColl}{}{}
\input dirty_old_town.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{Dans les prisons de Nantes}{Am}{~}{traditionnel breton}{}{}
\input dans_les_prisons_de_nantes.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{Eileen Og}{Am}{~}{Percy French}{}{}
\input eileen_og.tex
\end{song}
%%%%%%%%% S O N G S F R O M T H E F I E L D S %%%%%%%%%%
\chapter{Songs from the fields}
\begin{song}{The Leprechaun}{?}{St Patrick's Day song}{Marc Gunn}{}{}
TODO : Chords
\input leprechaun.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{Kilkelly, Ireland}{Em}{~}{irish traditional}{}{}
TODO : All
\end{song}
%%%%%%%% S O N G S F R O M T H E B O O Z E %%%%%%%%%
\chapter{Songs from the booze}
\begin{song}{The Jug of Punch}{D}{~}{traditional}{}{}
\input jug_of_punch.tex
\end{song}
\begin{song}{Whiskey You're The Devil}{D}{~}{irish traditional}{}{}
\input whiskey_you_re_the_devil.tex
\end{song}
%%%%%%%% S O N G S F R O M T H E W O O D S %%%%%%%%
\chapter{Songs from the woods}
NOTHING YET
\begin{music}
\parindent10mm
\instrumentnumber{1} % a single instrument
\setname1{Piano} % whose name is Piano
\setstaffs1{2} % with two staffs
\generalmeter{\meterfrac44}% 4/4 meter chosen
\startextract % starting real score
\Notes\ibu0f0\qb0{cge}\tbu0\qb0g|\hl j\en
\Notes\ibu0f0\qb0{cge}\tbu0\qb0g|\ql l\sk\ql n\en
\bar
\Notes\ibu0f0\qb0{dgf}|\qlp i\en
\notes\tbu0\qb0g|\ibbl1j3\qb1j\tbl1\qb1k\en
\Notes\ibu0f0\qb0{cge}\tbu0\qb0g|\hl j\en
\endextract % terminate excerpt
\end{music}
\end{document}

28
whiskey_in_the_jar.tex

@ -0,0 +1,28 @@
As I was a goin' over the far famed Kerry mountains\\
I met with captain Farrell and his money he was counting\\
I first produced me pistol and then produced me rapier\\
Saying "Stand and deliver" for I am a bold deceiver\\
~\\
\textbf{Musha ring dumma do damma da\\
whack fol' the daddy 'ol (bis)\\
there's whiskey in the jar}\\
~\\
I counted out his money and it made a pretty penny \\
I put it in me pocket and I took it home to Jenny\\
She said and she swore that she never would deceive me\\
But the devil take the women for they never can be easy\\
~\\
I went up in my chamber, all for to take a slumber\\
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure 't was no wonder\\
But Jenny drew my charges and she filled them up with water\\
And sent for captain Farrell to be ready for the slaughter\\
~\\
't was early in the morning, as I rose to travel\\
The guards were all around me likewise captain Farrell\\
I first produced me pistol for she stole away me rapier\\
I couldn't shoot the water, so a prisoner I was taken\\
~\\
If anyone can aid me it's my brother in the army\\
If I knew his station down in Cork or in Killarney\\
And if he'll come and join me, we'll go rovin' near Killkenny\\
And sure he'll treat me better than this fuckin' cunt of Jenny\\

45
whiskey_you_re_the_devil.tex

@ -0,0 +1,45 @@
\begin{SBChorus}
Oh, \Ch{G}{whiskey} you're the devil, You're \Ch{C}{leading} me \Ch{G}{astray}
O'er hills and mountains and to \Ch{D}{Americae}
You're \Ch{G}{sweeter}, stronger, decenter, You're \Ch{C}{spunkier} than \Ch{G}{tea}
Oh, \Ch{G}{whiskey} you're me darling drunk or \Ch{D}{so}\Ch{G}{ber}
\end{SBChorus}
~\\
\begin{SBVerse*}
Now \Ch{G}{brave} boys, we're on the march
\Ch{D}{Off} to Portu\Ch{C}{gal} and Spain
\Ch{G}{Drums} a'beating, banners a'waving
\Ch{C}{Devil} a'home will \Ch{D}{come} tonight
Lo' fare thee well With me thitery doodelum the \Ch{D}{da}
Me \Ch{Am}{thitery} doodelum the \Ch{C}{da}
Me \Ch{G}{right} fol' tur-a laddie-o
There's \Ch{D}{whiskey} in the \Ch{G}{jar}
\end{SBVerse*}
~\\
The French are fighting boldly \\
Men are dying hot and coldly \\
Give every man his flask of powder \\
His firelock on his shoulder \\
Lo' fare thee well With me thitery doodelum the da\\
Me thitery doodelum the da\\
Me right fol' tur-a laddie-o \\
There's whiskey in the jar \\
\\
Says the mother : \og Do not wrong me\\
Don't take me daughter from me \\
For if you do I will torment you \\
And after death me ghost will haunt you \fg \\
We're off, fare thee well With me thitery doodelum the da\\
Me thitery doodelum the da\\
Me right fol' tur-a laddie-o \\
There's whiskey in the jar \\
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