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Demos and Radio Sessions 1986​-​1998

by The Whisky Priests

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1.
THE RISING OF THE NORTH [Instrumental] (Gary Miller)
2.
THE COAL-DIGGER’S GRAVE There had just been a big cave-in in the depths of Belly Row And Jim Greenwood was stretched out on the ground And those with no guts were smiling at the back While the strong men had failed to bring him round The burial party had just reached the top of Dead Man's Hill It was well past closing time and all the men had drunk their fill They were starting to shovel the soil over his head When he jumped up and yelled, "Give us whisky!" The top men are calling for enquiries round the town They've got a lot of face to save And they've sent out appeals for the men to rally round "Will someone put a body in the coal-digger's grave?" Jim Greenwood had survived many pitfalls in his time And the thinkers couldn't think what else to do "We cannot starve your family and we cannot steal your home But somehow we're going to get you" The top men are calling for enquiries round the town They've got a lot of face to save And they've sent out appeals for the men to rally round "Will someone put a body in the coal-digger's grave?" And they sent him off to fight in the war And the bullets knocked him to the ground And they said, "That's the end of you my son" But the bugger he came back round The top men are calling for enquiries round the town They've got a lot of face to save And they've sent out appeals for the men to rally round "Will someone put a body in the coal-digger's grave?" (Gary Miller) Copyright © 1988 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
3.
PRIDE I remember working winters That were cold and filled with strife But the winters of my winter years Are the coldest of my life But we’ll keep the fires burning With the anger in our souls And pray to God in Heaven For the men who dig for coal My youngest son called Terry Was a shipbuilder by trade And he told me he was proud to work For a good and honest wage Then his boss said, “Son we’re paying you off With involuntary redundancy pay Though you’ve built ships that have sailed Down South America way” When you’re faced with a crisis We will never let you down We’ll do just what’s required to a man You can lead sheep to the slaughter And we’ll follow every one But you can’t destroy the pride Of a hard working man Sitting round with beers With the lads who’ve never worked And telling them all stories Of the times when we worked hard Then we’ll doff our caps in honour To the old days long gone by And drink to a good future When we’ll never lay down and die When you’re faced with a crisis We will never let you down We’ll do just what’s required to a man You can lead sheep to the slaughter And we’ll follow every one But you can’t destroy the pride Of a hard working man The fighters throughout history Have never been put down And they’ll always keep on fighting Though they’re stamped into the ground And the marchers keep on marching Though the blood drips from their feet And the pride of a whole nation Reaps a victory from defeat When you’re faced with a crisis We will never let you down We’ll do just what’s required to a man You can lead sheep to the slaughter And we’ll follow every one But you can’t destroy the pride Of a hard working man (Gary Miller) Copyright © 1992 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
4.
SHUT DOON THE WAGGON WORKS The lights are going out on the edge of Ghost Town As a coldness penetrates through curtained windows For the colliery streets shed no warmth light or heat There is no joy or friendship here in winter As me and my marrers go to get ourselves a pint All we get are looks which make us shiver For the people have changed though the place still looks the same But the waggons don't run here anymore Times are hard in this world When you get put out of work The people up in power Have shut down the waggon works There are jobs up for grabs in other parts I hear While our village has been scrapped through lack of care They've decided to scrap jobs in the places they matter most Though the towers still belch their smoke into the air Times are hard in this world When you get put out of work The people up in power Have shut down the waggon works (Gary Miller)
5.
COLLIER'S RANT As me and my marrers were going to work We met with the Devil it was in the dark I up with my pick it was in the neet I knocked off his horns likewise his clubfeet Follow the horses Johnny me laddie Follow the horses canny lad-o Follow the horses Johnny me laddie Away lie away me canny lad-o Marrer oh marrer now what do you think I've broken my bottle and spilt all my drink I've lost my tools among the great stones Draw me to the shaft lad it's time to go home Follow the horses Johnny me laddie Follow the horses canny lad-o Follow the horses Johnny me laddie Away lie away me canny lad-o As me and my marrer were loading the tram His laugh it went out and my marrer went wrong You would have laughed to see the fine game Old Nick took my marrer and I took the tram Follow the horses Johnny me laddie Follow the horses canny lad-o Follow the horses Johnny me laddie Away lie away me canny lad-o So here's my horses and here's my tram Two horns full of grease will make her to gan There's my marrer all stretched on the ground You can tear up his shirt his mining's all done Follow the horses Johnny me laddie Follow the horses canny lad-o Follow the horses Johnny me laddie Away lie away me canny lad-o (Trad. arr. The Whisky Priests)
6.
THE RISING OF THE NORTH [Instrumental] (Gary Miller)
7.
GRANDFATHA’S FATHA When I was a young lad and had never known a job I would visit my grandfather once a week And I’d listen to his tales whilst sitting on his knee But of his days at work he’d never speak I found out that his father had died long ago When granda was a young lad like mysel’ It was down the pit he died whilst working on the gang There was a big explosion so they tell They were cut off from the world When the big cage doors were closed They sang and talked to keep their spirits high Then his father told the tale Of when he’d met Old Nick Himself And then he joked he’d see them all in Hell They’d both left home together They were both on the same long shift And with the other men they piled into the cage But the clanging of machinery as they descended down Was warning them “you’re going to your graves” When the cage reached the bottom All the men clambered out And like tiny ants they laboured in the gloom Then an almighty bang rent the air As the men began to shout And the roof caved in to seal them in their tomb No one knew what had happened Until the dust began to settle It looked like there’d been a battle With the Devil down in Hell My grandfather had been knocked unconscious By a beam that had grazed his skull While his father just lay lifeless where he fell They’d brought him to the surface By the time that he’d come round Someone said “Son forget what happened To you down there in the dark” But his mind could never escape the horror Of seeing his poor father die In that dark hole that was called his place of work (Gary Miller) Copyright © 1988 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
8.
NO CHANCE Tim Malone took the long road home As the night was closing in And the cruel wind struck and wailed in angry moans With his scarf wrapped tight around his neck And his cap pulled over his eyes He fought to keep the cold out of his bones As he passed by closed down factories Waste ground and crumbling walls He recalled the evening's events oh what a story The cinema's woodbine smells The patriotic war film as well And the end to the tune of 'Land of Hope and Glory' "Cheer up there bonnie lad" Says the man who knows no cares "It's no use crying needlessly" (I'm all right Jack) "Get up off your backside" Says the man who knows it all It’s no use waiting until your boat comes in (I see no ships round here) "Because you'll find out son it's never coming in" At the shipyard on the quayside He watched the men come out And the boss said "Are you looking for a job" He sang "Weel may the keel row" To the tune of fifty quid But the boss said "Try some busking with your gob" (Weel may the keel row that my laddie's in) "Cheer up there bonnie lad" Says the man who knows no cares "It's no use crying needlessly" (I'm all right Jack) "Get up off your backside" Says the man who knows it all It’s no use waiting until your boat comes in (I see no ships round here) "Because you'll find out son it's never coming in" He'd sit and curse at four grey walls And watch his life go slowly by Waiting for next pay Friday to come Then he'd sit and sup his beer Watch people come then disappear And wonder if their lives were fashioned out of stone "Cheer up there bonnie lad" Says the man who knows no cares "It's no use crying needlessly" (I'm all right Jack) "Get up off your backside" Says the man who knows it all It’s no use waiting until your boat comes in (I see no ships round here) "Because you'll find out son it's never coming in" (Gary Miller) Copyright © 1988 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
9.
JENNY GREY I watched as you watched me with hope in my heart And I wondered what your eyes were telling me then But a wall drew around me and trapped me forever And there was no key that could free me again I passed by a headstone, which no shadows darkened There I saw a young woman with flowers and tears And I envied the soul for whom she was grieving And I lost all desire to continue my years When they are drying the blood from my body And the flowers and grieving are all for me And when I am gone into Hell or to Heaven Oh dear Jenny Grey cry for me We walked together in the cool summer morning And the birds were all singing in the valley below But the wind stole their voices as the sweet vision faded And I walked home without you alone When they are drying the blood from my body And the flowers and grieving are all for me And when I am gone into Hell or to Heaven Oh dear Jenny Grey cry for me The factory gates have all closed down before me And the lights are dimming on the edge of the town And they are singing a sad hymn in the church in the village And your face looks so sad as the tears flow down When they are drying the blood from my body And the flowers and grieving are all for me And when I am gone into Hell or to Heaven Oh dear Jenny Grey cry for me (lyrics: Gary Miller / music: Glenn Miller)
10.
THE ROW BETWEEN THE CAGES One morning when I went to work the sight was most exciting I heard a noise and looked around and who do you think was fighting I stood amazed and at them gazed to see them in such rages I never saw a row like that between the Brockwell cages The patent to the old cage says although I be a stranger I can work my work as well as you and free the men from danger But if the rope should break with me old skinny jaws just watch us You'll see me clag on to the skeets for I'm full of springs and catches The old cage to the patent says I warrant you think you're clever Because they've polished you with paint but you'll not last forever For when your paint is worn away then you'll have lost your beauty Now they never painted me at all but still I've done my duty When going up and down the shaft the patent cage did threaten For to take the old one's life if they stopped it meeting The old cage bawled out as it passed you nasty dirty patent Rub your eyes against the skeets I think you're hardly wakened The old cage says come over the gates because it's my intention To let you see whether you or me is the best invention The new one being raised took off his claes and at it they went dabbing The blood was running down the skeets and past the weighman's cabin The brakesman brought them both to bank the mischief for to settle They fought from five o'clock 'til six and the patent won the battle It took the brakesman half his shift to clag them up with plasters The old cage sent his notice in just to vex the masters (lyrics: Tommy Armstrong / music: Trad. arr. The Whisky Priests)
11.
THREE RIVERS An old man once told me a story Of three rivers running through this land of mine And men who would die to feed their loved ones Now the work is all gone the rivers run clear again And who would believe they've seen three rivers running clear Who am I well I'll tell you I'm Jack Robson And I'd cut you down with words as well as blows I used to make the steel down at the foundry Now it's gone the steel is rust the furnace cold I had a wife and bairns who felt my kindness And my belt and my rage when hard times came They left one day to look for something better I wonder if they found it If the wounds upon my body had been money If the tears I've shed for you had all been gold If the times that I've been drunk had all been diamonds Would the love you had for me have been so cold I'm a welder by trade my name is Wilson And I built the ships that fought my country's wars I'd take my lad to see the game at Roker Where he would dream of being captain of the team To score a goal and get a winner's medal And hold the cup for everyone to see His sisters used to sing of Bobby Shaftoe And what he'd do when he came home from sea If the wounds upon my body had been money If the tears I've shed for you had all been gold If the times that I've been drunk had all been diamonds Would the love you had for me have been so cold Those who knew me they all would call me Tommy A geordie collier to the core Unsung hero of this country Who never went away to fight a war Fought my battles down there at the coal face Two thousand feet below my home Until a wiser man said "Tom the war is over There's nothing left for you now go on home" If the wounds upon my body had been money If the tears I've shed for you had all been gold If the times that I've been drunk had all been diamonds Would the love you had for me have been so cold What's my name it really doesn't matter I'm the eyes now blinded by hot steel I'm the hands all bloody black and broken I'm the ears that heard the last ship leave I'm the father crying for his children I'm the husband begging to his wife I'm the voice of doubt and fear politicians never hear As three rivers run on silent to the sea If the wounds upon my body had been money If the tears I've shed for you had all been gold If the times that I've been drunk had all been diamonds Would the love you had for me have been so cold (lyrics: Mick Tyas / music: Gary Miller)
12.
WHEN THE WIND BLOWS, BILLY BOY Where have you been all the day Billy Boy Now you have put away all of your toys I wish I had known you when you were a boy But that's all gone now I'll never forget when I first put you now You were dancing all round the town With your shoes all scuffed and your curly hair brown But that seems such a long time ago now When the wind blows you've got time on your hands But when the time comes it blows by so fast I'll dream of the days that are coming at last When the wind blows Billy Boy You in your innocence were such a sweet little thing Now that's gone forever flown like birds on the wing Did you ever regret it did you lose anything Now it's all in the past Billy Boy When the wind blows you've got time on your hands But when the time comes it blows by so fast I'll dream of the days that are coming at last When the wind blows Billy Boy Where have you been all the years Billy Boy You threw them away like you didn't know how All for the sake of just living for now Well I still love you Billy Boy When the wind blows you've got time on your hands But when the time comes it blows by so fast I'll dream of the days that are coming at last When the wind blows Billy Boy Now you and your sweetheart will walk hand in hand You and the world and his wife make a stand For all that we've ever held at our command As you count down the years Billy Boy When the wind blows you've got time on your hands But when the time comes it blows by so fast I'll dream of the days that are coming at last When the wind blows Billy Boy Now the wind's blown all the time from your hands Now the time's come will you blow by so fast Or welcome the days that are here at last When the wind blows Billy Boy (Gary Miller)
13.
PITMAN TOM Well I know of this little old gadgie You can call him Pitman Tom With lots of bairns and an indomitable thirst How could the bugger go wrong? Not so tall, bow-legged an' all He looked a little bit frail But stick a tanner in his pocket And he was ready for his ale He was down the pit at the age of nine His brother carried him to work And the first thing he could remember Was sitting in the dark Now the coal dust made him thirsty And inspired him to verse So he sold his songs so that all night long He could satisfy his thirst His glory was his pen His muse was a mug of ale His wit was as sharp as a knife in the dark How could the bugger fail? His legs were made of rubber His hands were made of clay His throat was made of sawdust But his words were made to stay One day he went to the co-op But ended up in Durham Gaol He nicked a pair of stockings And the judge refused him bail He said "Tom why did you nick 'em?" And he answered in reply "I'll never see another pair of bow-legged leggings Until the day I die" His glory was his pen His muse was a mug of ale His wit was as sharp as a knife in the dark How could the bugger fail? His legs were made of rubber His hands were made of clay His throat was made of sawdust But his words were made to stay But now the bugger's gone And buried in his grave And all the folks from 'round about Never recognise his name But if he was alive today He'd write them all a song About that silly old gadgie By the name of Pitman Tom His glory was his pen His muse was a mug of ale His wit was as sharp as a knife in the dark How could the bugger fail? His legs were made of rubber His hands were made of clay His throat was made of sawdust But his words were made to stay (Gary Miller)
14.
MANIMAL FARM The cock crows dawn and signals time to rise Manimal Farm is soon full of life The horse is in the field or down the mine The cock just sits there and bides his time The cock just sits there and bides his time Spring brings in the lambing time School days over in summer time We bring in the harvest at autumn time But winter is cold at the slaughter time Winter is cold at the slaughter time We will grow old before our time We will taste sorrow and bitter wine We will bring the crops in until the day that we die We will feed the swine The power of authority is thine The power of the Lord is mine The harvest fails when God is unkind He will punish us and we will cry He will punish us and we will cry We will grow old before our time We will taste sorrow and bitter wine We will bring the crops in until the day that we die We will feed the swine (Gary Miller)
15.
LEAD THEM TO THEIR GRAVES The moon is up the stars are out You're in your shining tower And love is shining down on you From its heavenly bower But the man in the moon will come too soon Destroying all he saves And you'll catch a falling star tonight As you lead them to their graves Bite the hand that feeds Are the words you know so well Yet you fight the hand that bleeds In your self made living hell Your love has withered down the years Yet theirs grows with the days And you'll reap their crop until they drop As you lead them to their graves A million tears count the years From your cradle to their graves On faces once so beautiful Which love could not have saved Do the flowers of romance still touch their hearts Do they yearn for days now past Will they bloom again in their twilight years Or will they just fade away The moon is up the stars are out You're in your shining tower Yet the architects have failed you Their work has never flowered A deep dungeon hides the greatest gift Once beheld by eyes now glazed Will they finally free what they long to see As you lead them to their graves As you lead them to their graves As you lead them to their graves (Gary Miller)
16.
LAND OF THE DINOSAUR Here amongst the memories That belong to yesterday The monolithic metal beasts No longer rule the waves The ruins of a greater age Lie strewn across wasteland The dinosaurs are now extinct Their bones rust in the sand The timbers burned The wheels have turned The ships have sailed away Yet the dinosaurs stand tall and proud In the graveyard that remains See the greatness now expired In the hearts and lives of men Monuments of men Monumental men And their epitaph shall be: 'They walked on water They parted the waters Until the seas of power engulfed them' The timbers burned The wheels have turned The ships have sailed away Yet the dinosaurs stand tall and proud In the graveyard that remains (Gary Miller)
17.
SEE THE WHIPPET RUN I was born and bred into a race of skill It's the drug that gives me speed and thrills With a never ceasing heat in my heart and brain To give me the power of a speeding train See the whippet run Watch it leap the highest hurdles Run rabbit run Keep on heading down that track See the whippet run As it hurtles to the finish line Racing past your train and never looking back There's many a pleasure and delight In being the victor through another man's plight I can see the gold at the rainbow's end So carry me up as the gods descend See the whippet run Watch it leap the highest hurdles Run rabbit run Keep on heading down that track See the whippet run As it hurtles to the finish line Racing past your train and never looking back This race has led me to grief and woe And brought me to arms against friend and foe Yet the fire still burns as bright as before I can win this race and a thousand more See the whippet run Watch it leap the highest hurdles Run rabbit run Keep on heading down that track See the whippet run As it hurtles to the finish line Racing past your train and never looking back (lyrics: Gary Miller / music: Glenn Miller)
18.
BALLAD OF JOHN EGAN John Egan is a meek man A miner, a meek man And 'The meek shall inherit the Earth', they say 'The meek shall inherit the Earth' John Egan mined for 50 years He slaved for 50 years He mined in the morning He mined all those days He served for 50 years John Egan has a tale to tell He has a life to tell And 'It's time that tale was told Time his life was told The bells toll, the bells toll John Egan sleeps and dreams He dreams of Heaven He dreams of His Maker He dreams of Paradise Row He dreams that the meek shall inherit the Earth The meek shall inherit the Earth John Egan is a meek man A miner, a meek man And this is the tale the bell tolls This is the tale he tells (lyrics: Keith Armstrong / music: Gary Miller) Copyright ©1998 Keith Armstrong / Gary Miller / Whippet Records
19.
BONNIE WOODHA' Down by yon green bushes near Calder's clear stream Where me and my Annie oft times we have been Oh the hours flew right past us, right happy we'd be It was little she thought that a soldier I'd be So it's farewell to Annie, for I must away For the king he needs soldiers and I must obey But if providence proves kind love until my return I'll wed with my Annie near Calder's clear burn On the Fourteenth of August our regiment was lost And a ball from the enemy our lines came across Oh it struck me on the temple, the blood trickled down I reeled and I staggered and I fell to the ground "Come here" cried our captain, "Come here with great speed For I fear by this bullet young Dimsmore lies dead" Two men with a stretcher did quickly prepare And they carried me away to a hospital bed Cold water and brandy they poured out so free And they turned me all over my wounds for to see But if I had my Annie to bind up my wounds One kiss from her sweet lips would soon deaden this doom And it's when I am weary and think of Lang Syne When I was a miner and worked in the mine Oh the tears they do trickle and down they do fall Like the roses that bloom around bonnie Woodha' (Trad. arr. The Whisky Priests) Copyright © 1998 Gary Miller / Glenn Miller / Whippet Records
20.
EVERYBODY’S GOT LOVE BITES BUT ME In this two-bit town It’s once bitten twice shy Chewing streets up and down My tongue’s asking “Why?” My teeth are on edge No work and no necking Just sucking this ledge No future worth wrecking Nothing to say No reason to pray Wish something lovely would hit me Everybody’s got love bites but me Everybody's got love bites but me In the back of my mouth There’s a taste of success And word has it down south You can talk oral sex But in this dingy town My lips are all cracked Speechless at home All sleepless and sacked Nothing to say No reason to pray Wish something lovely would hit me Everybody’s got love bites but me Everybody’s got love bites but me Everybody’s got love bites but me Everybody's got love bites but me In this two-bit town It’s once bitten twice shy Chewing streets up and down My tongue’s asking “Why?” My teeth are on edge No work and no necking Just sucking this ledge No future worth wrecking Nothing to say No reason to pray Wish something lovely would hit me Everybody’s got love bites but me Everybody's got love bites but me Nothing to say No reason to pray Wish something lovely would hit me Everybody’s got love bites but me Everybody's got love bites but me Everybody’s got love bites but me Everybody's got love bites but me Everybody’s got love bites but me Everybody's got love bites but me (lyrics: Keith Armstrong / music: Gary Miller)
21.
ANGELS PLAYING FOOTBALL Sprinkle my ashes on St. James’s Park Fragments of goals on the grass Hear the Gallowgate roar in the dark All of my dreams come to pass Pass me my memories Pass me the days Pass me a ball and I’ll play Play with the angels Play on their wings Play in the thunder and lightning I leave you these goals in my will Snapshots of me on the run I leave you these pieces of skill Moments of me in the sun Pass me my memories Pass me the days Pass me a ball and I’ll play Play with the angels Play on their wings Play in the thunder and lightning Pass me my memories Pass me the days Pass me a ball and I’ll play Play with the angels Play on their wings Play in the thunder and lightning (lyrics: Keith Armstrong / music: Gary Miller)
22.
WIDOWS OF HARTLEY “What was it there on Hartley Heap Caused the mother and child to weep” (George Cooke) Cold January’s gripped our throbbing hearts And torn them Still the sea rolls on The earth’s bowels stink Of our loved one’s deaths The air tastes foul Still the sea rolls on They don black gloves Drag out the bodies one by one The death-stained faces seem to smile Still the sea rolls on We are the widows of Hartley Our men and boys are dead Our lives cracked open Damp corpses in our beds Still the sea rolls on We are the widows of Hartley Our men and boys are dead Our lives cracked open Damp corpses in our beds Still the sea rolls on Still the sea rolls on Still the sea rolls on We clutch cold messages From dukes and queens We wipe the coal dust From our widowed eyes The coffin-makers heavy hammers beat Keep time with lapping parlour clocks And still the sea rolls on We are the widows of Hartley Our men and boys are dead Our lives cracked open Damp corpses in our beds Still the sea rolls on We are the widows of Hartley Our men and boys are dead Our lives cracked open Damp corpses in our beds Still the sea rolls on We are the widows of Hartley Our men and boys are dead Take away your stumbling words And give us bread (lyrics: Keith Armstrong / music: Gary Miller)
23.
THIS VILLAGE This village draws me I hear it calling me back through the years Its people are its life-blood I am its joy; I am its tears Makers were forged here To forge a bond no cruel hands could destroy Artists' hands seized it Lost lovers grieved for it Builders have reached for its skies Poets have captured its beauty They speak of its sad beauty now This village haunts me Its whispering hurt tears at my soul Why did I forsake you? Welcome me back welcome me home A sacred bond exists here Between the land and the people it owns It grants no escape from the realms of its fate It reaps the crops we have sown This village has made me all that I am This village is calling me home (Gary Miller)
24.
WORKHORSE Out across the cold grey fields Like a monument to the damned He ploughs the fields and scatters The good seed on the land And in the evening when the sun goes down And the whole world is asleep He carries on with one last shift To earn his mind some peace He suffers all the taunts and jibes Of the cruel ploughboy lads As they idle all their time away Though there's money to be had He carries on regardless Though his back is bruised and sore His heart beats faster than a train And his lungs are clogged and slow This old workhorse will work 'til he drops When his work is all done, he refuses to stop When he's put out to pasture will he finally be free Will his body and mind at last feel relief He no longer heeds the danger signs He no longer hears the warning chimes Deaf, dumb and blind, just the straight line ahead Driving him on 'til he drops down dead Out across the cold grey fields Like a monument to the damned He ploughs the fields and scatters The good seed on the land And in the evening when the sun goes down And the whole world is asleep He carries on with one last shift To earn his mind some peace This old workhorse will work 'til he drops When his work is all done, he refuses to stop When he's put out to pasture will he finally be free Will his body and mind at last feel relief Now who will hold him close and weep In their deepest thoughts his love to keep And ease his body from dusk 'til dawn This self-made martyr with his crown of thorns (Gary Miller)
25.
BROTHERS IN ARMS AGAIN You came to me with cap in hand While kid gloves were on mine I worked all the hours God sent me While you wasted my time But my best was never good enough for you I could never do right for doing wrong And now you want me to apologise For all the bad things that you've done When one man digs for buried treasure There's always another man standing close by Waiting to step in to take the glory Waiting to pluck out the other man's eyes Its a fact of life those who stand idle May find success when it isn't even theirs While those who break their guts And hearts while others profit Find life doesn't always deal fair shares So hold those feelings close to your heart Keep those devils in For when the saints go marching in Who will count your sins Or bang the bitter aching drum You've hammered on in vain While I must hang my head in shame Until we are brothers in arms again Some people might say that I'm bitter To them I say "What do you know?" I only know I'm feeling tired now I only know I'm growing old From propping up the deep dark tunnels Of your crumbling mind But 'though my mental back is broken Mine will heal in time So hold those feelings close to your heart Keep those devils in For when the saints go marching in Who will count your sins Or bang the bitter aching drum You've hammered on in vain While I must hang my head in shame Until we are brothers in arms again Until we are brothers in arms again Until we are brothers in arms again (Gary Miller) Copyright © 1998 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
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CAR BOOT SALE I went to the car boot sale At the racecourse one fine June I had nothing else better to do On a boring afternoon There were cars and stalls and people obsessed As far as the eye could see But there wasn't a fucking horse in sight At the sale of the century Oh me lads, you should've seen them gannin' Millin' around like flies 'round shite With no real sense of plannin' Hagglin' and fussin', hustlin' and bustlin' In search of the Holy Grail Some folks' rubbish is other folks' gold At the car boot sale There were people arriving while others were leaving A lot of them pushing prams I hope the ones that had just been bought Were the unoccupied ones Amidst the clamour you could hear a man cry "Everything fifty pence!" But you wouldn't have bothered to look in his box If you had any sense There were second-hand clocks and watches With a history to tell They might have been worth a fortune If they told the time as well Broken toys, torn books, scratched records Electrical goods of every degree Finding they don't work when you get home Is your only guarantee There was Mister Softee ice cream Next to a burger van from Hell In a cone or a tub with monkey's blood Next to people with no sense of smell I was trying to find one of those Backward-facing baseball caps 'Cos no matter how hard I've looked I've only seen forward ones in the shops So if you're bored or depressed With the National Lottery Come along for a grand day out With the shell-suit family Grab a piece of the action Of this latest national craze Rogues by the score amid bargains galore At your local car boot sale Oh me lads, you should've seen them gannin' Millin' around like flies round shite With no real sense of plannin' Hagglin' and fussin', hustlin' and bustlin' In search of the Holy Grail You might find it for a couple of quid At the car boot sale Gary Miller) Copyright © 1998 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
28.
29.
BLACKLEG MINING MAN Who is that blackleg mining man? Who is that blackleg mining man? He’s the one who helps the boss Nail his brothers to the cross Who is that blackleg mining man? Where was that blackleg mining man? Where was that blackleg mining man? He was nowhere to be seen When they killed young Jones and Green Where was that blackleg mining man? He was that blackleg mining man He was that blackleg mining man He was deep down in the mine Gone through the picket line He was that blackleg mining man Why does that blackleg mining man? Why does that blackleg mining man? Dig the blackleg coal Puts his marrers on the dole Why does that blackleg mining man? Someday that blackleg mining man Someday that blackleg mining man Will rue what he has done When there’s no work for his son Someday that blackleg mining man One day that blackleg mining man One day that blackleg mining man Will realise he’s sold his soul For a tub of blackleg coal One day that blackleg mining man He’ll see that blackleg mining man He’ll see that blackleg mining man When he looks into his glass A traitor to his class He’ll see that blackleg mining man Who is that blackleg mining man? Who is that blackleg mining man? He’s the one who helps the boss Nail his brothers to the cross He is that blackleg mining man? (Jock Purdon) Copyright © Jock Purdon / Pit Lamp Press
30.
SONG FOR EWAN Hello precious one, so small and frail May you grow to be strong and may your strength never fail 'Though you enter a world of sorrow and pain May you find peace and may wisdom be your reign Go forward with laughter and joy in your heart Be positive in everything you do Always believe in what you seek to achieve And I will believe in you This whole world is yours to paint and explore May your colours be vibrant, may your canvas be broad May each path you choose be sure and bold May the secrets of the universe be yours to unfold May your journey be exciting, may you reach for the stars May all your dreams come true Should you walk on Mars or through war-torn lands May your aim always be true The love I feel is deep and real It's pouring down on you My heart is on my sleeve for all to see As I sing this song for you But hush for now, may your life bring joy And may you find happiness too And when I am blessed with a child of my own May he or she be beautiful like you (Gary Miller) Copyright © 1998 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
31.
THIS VILLAGE This village draws me I hear it calling me back through the years Its people are its life-blood I am its joy; I am its tears Makers were forged here To forge a bond no cruel hands could destroy Artists' hands seized it Lost lovers grieved for it Builders have reached for its skies Poets have captured its beauty They speak of its sad beauty now This village haunts me Its whispering hurt tears at my soul Why did I forsake you? Welcome me back welcome me home A sacred bond exists here Between the land and the people it owns It grants no escape from the realms of its fate It reaps the crops we have sown This village has made me all that I am This village is calling me home (Gary Miller)
32.
33.
GOING TO THE MINE Into the smoky morning And I'm trudging down the line Past the dirty tanky engine Going to the mine Rows of pit folks' houses Like regiments in time Taste the gritty daylight When you're going to the mine Whistle of the buzzer Time to rise and shine How I long for Sunday When I'm going to the mine Falling snow around us Turning into grime Down the coaly track-way When you're going to the mine Flying birds and freedom But I must serve me time One day I'll be flying too From going to the mine Falling down the shaft And I'm leaving the sun behind Born to be a human mole Going to the mine Into the smoky morning And I'm trudging down the line Past the dirty tanky engine Going to the mine (Johnny Handle) Copyright © Johnny Handle
34.
LEAVE HER JOHNNY, LEAVE HER I thought I heard the old man say Leave her Johnny leave her It's a long hard pull to the next payday And it's time for us to leave her Leave her Johnny leave her Leave her Johnny leave her Now the voyage is done and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her Oh the skipper was bad but the mate was worse Leave her Johnny leave her He'd blow you down with a spike and a curse And it's time for us to leave her Leave her Johnny leave her Leave her Johnny leave her Now the voyage is done and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her It's pull you lubbers or you'll get no pay Leave her Johnny leave her Pull you lubbers and then belay And it's time for us to leave her Leave her Johnny leave her Leave her Johnny leave her Now the voyage is done and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her (Trad. arr. The Whisky Priests) Copyright © 1998 Gary Miller / Glenn Miller / Whippet Records
35.
CAR BOOT SALE I went to the car boot sale At the racecourse one fine June I had nothing else better to do On a boring afternoon There were cars and stalls and people obsessed As far as the eye could see But there wasn't a fucking horse in sight At the sale of the century Oh me lads, you should've seen them gannin' Millin' around like flies 'round shite With no real sense of plannin' Hagglin' and fussin', hustlin' and bustlin' In search of the Holy Grail Some folks' rubbish is other folks' gold At the car boot sale There were people arriving while others were leaving A lot of them pushing prams I hope the ones that had just been bought Were the unoccupied ones Amidst the clamour you could hear a man cry "Everything fifty pence!" But you wouldn't have bothered to look in his box If you had any sense Oh me lads, you should've seen them gannin' Millin' around like flies 'round shite With no real sense of plannin' Hagglin' and fussin', hustlin' and bustlin' In search of the Holy Grail Some folks' rubbish is other folks' gold At the car boot sale There were second-hand clocks and watches With a history to tell They might have been worth a fortune If they told the time as well Broken toys, torn books, scratched records Electrical goods of every degree Finding they don't work when you get home Is your only guarantee There was Mister Softee ice cream Next to a burger van from Hell In a cone or a tub with monkey's blood Next to people with no sense of smell I was trying to find one of those Backward-facing baseball caps 'Cos no matter how hard I've looked I've only seen forward ones in the shops Oh me lads, you should've seen them gannin' Millin' around like flies 'round shite With no real sense of plannin' Hagglin' and fussin', hustlin' and bustlin' In search of the Holy Grail Some folks' rubbish is other folks' gold At the car boot sale So if you're bored or depressed With the National Lottery Come along for a grand day out With the shell-suit family Grab a piece of the action Of this latest national craze Rogues by the score amid bargains galore At your local car boot sale Oh me lads, you should've seen them gannin' Millin' around like flies 'round shite With no real sense of plannin' Hagglin' and fussin', hustlin' and bustlin' In search of the Holy Grail Some folks' rubbish is other folks' gold At the car boot sale Oh me lads, you should've seen them gannin' Millin' around like flies round shite With no real sense of plannin' Hagglin' and fussin', hustlin' and bustlin' In search of the Holy Grail You might find it for a couple of quid At the car boot sale (Gary Miller) Copyright © 1998 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
36.
ALICE IN WONDERLAND First she dries the dishes then she dries her eyes 'Though her tears could fill an ocean, her own river's running dry She's moved to Dead End Street from Opportunity Rise Where the spirits of dead dreams haunt the back lanes of her mind Sometimes he shows affection in a way that makes her proud But mostly he can't stand her; she's just a stupid cow To one who doesn't love her or respect her anyhow And cares nothing for their future just his own here and now So come on now, get your head out of the sand You're just like Alice dreaming of a wonderland But yours could be reality if you just take a hand Think positive! Think confidence! Think, "I am in command!" Time is a prison time is our own Hell Time is the destroyer; it's the fire in which we burn And on this one-way ticket, which offers no return Time never heals is something you will learn And as time slips away, it seems such a crime To see one so young growing old before their time Life offers too few chances don't let them pass you by For perhaps the greatest crime is never to have tried So come on now, get your head out of the sand You're just like Alice dreaming of a wonderland But yours could be reality if you just take a hand Think positive! Think confidence! Think, "I am in command!" So come on now, get your head out of the sand Don’t waste your whole life trapped in dreams of wonderland The reality could be yours if you just make a stand Think positive! Think confidence! Think, "I am in command!" Think positive! Think confidence! Think, "I am in command!" Think positive! Think confidence! Think, "I am in command!" (Gary Miller) Copyright © 1998 Gary Miller / Whippet Records
37.
"FAREWELL JOBLING!" "Farewell Jobling!" rang the shout from the crowd As he was launched into eternity And on Jarrow Slakes Gibbet 21-feet high He was left to rot in the hot summer sky William Jobling an illiterate man A scapegoat an innocent victim An example to the striking miners of the time Sentenced to hang for another man's crime On a cold winter's night outside Turner's public house William Jobling and Ralf Armstrong were standing about The magistrate Fairles came riding along Recognised by Armstrong for he'd sent his brother down Armstrong swung a stick knocking Fairles to the ground Then he upped and left the scene with Jobling close behind Armstrong escaped but Jobling was caught And soon to Durham assizes was brought Fairles dying plea was for Jobling to be freed But his innocence contradicted the authority’s need Without legal defence and an example to be made Murder was the verdict execution was his fate "Farewell Jobling!" rang the shout from the crowd As he was launched into eternity And on Jarrow Slakes Gibbet 21-feet high He was left to rot in the hot summer sky Now Jobling had rehearsed a speech for the crowd But his nerves failed and he uttered no sound Then a shout rang out to send him on his way As the gallows took his life and the angry crowd were held at bay His pitch-covered corpse was strapped in a cage Then hung from the gibbet at Jarrow Slake The last man in England to suffer this fate As the strike collapsed and the authorities got their way Compare this to another case of the time When a miner’s leader tried to break up a fight Without justification a policeman shot him dead But leniency prevailed as he was gaoled for half a year The century has changed but some things stay the same Injustice is still with us and injustice will remain As long as we let politics rule the course of liberty Scapegoats will be made while the guilty ones go free "Farewell Jobling!" rang the shout from the crowd As he was launched into eternity And on Jarrow Slakes Gibbet 21-feet high He was left to rot in the hot summer sky (Glenn Miller / Gary Miller)

about

A comprehensive chronological compilation of demos and radio sessions recorded by The Whisky Priests between 1986 and 1998.


Tracks 1 & 2 recorded on 4-track at Fowlers Yard, Durham City, England on 20th December 1986.
Previously released on 'A Few Drops More' [WPTCD17]

Tracks 3-6 recorded on 8-track at The Pigpen, Trimdon, County Durham, England on 14th February 1987.
Track 3 - Previously released on 'A Few Drops More' [WPTCD17]
Track 4 - Previously unreleased
Tracks 5 & 6 - Previously released on 'The First Few Drops' (1994 Reissue Version) [WPTCD10]

Tracks 7-10 recorded on 8-track at The Pigpen, Trimdon, County Durham, England on 14th February 1988.
Tracks 7, 8, 10 - Previously released on 'A Few Drops More' [WPTCD17]
Track 9 - Previously released on 'The First Few Drops' (1994 Reissue Version) [WPTCD10]

Tracks 11-19 recorded on 16-track at Studio 64, Middlesbrough, England on 22nd & 23rd October 1993.
Previously released on 'A Few Drops More' [WPTCD17]

Tracks 20-22 recorded and mixed live direct to tape at BBC Radio Newcastle, England on 31st August 1996.
Previously unreleased

Tracks 23-24 recorded and mixed live direct to tape at BBC Radio Newcastle, England on 12th June 1996.
Previously released on 'A Few Drops More' [WPTCD17]

Tracks 25-34 recorded and mixed live direct to tape at Radio Heemskerk, Netherlands for the Mark C. Deren Show on 14th December 1987.
Previously released on 'Live on Radio Heemskerk' [WPTCD16]

Tracks 35-37 recorded and mixed live direct to tape at Radio Sieben, Ravensburg, Germany on 31st October 1998.
Previously released on 'Full Circle EP' [WPTCD23]

credits

released July 8, 2016

The Whisky Priests line-up on these recordings:

Tracks 1-2
Gary Miller - vocals, acoustic guitar
Glenn Miller - accordion
Michael Stephenson - bass
Michael 'Sticks' Stoker - drums
Mark Kelly - banjo

Tracks 3-6
Gary Miller - lead vocals, acoustic guitar
Glenn Miller - accordion
Michael Stephenson - bass, backing vocals
Michael 'Sticks' Stoker - drums
Mark Kelly - banjo

Tracks 7-10
Gary Miller - lead vocals, acoustic guitar, bouzouki
Glenn Miller - accordion
Michael Stephenson - bass, backing vocals
Bill Bulmer - mandolin, harmonicas
David Ayre - drums

Tracks 11-19
Gary Miller - vocals, acoustic guitar
Glenn Miller - accordion
Mick Tyas - bass, vocals
Paul Carless - electric mandolin, harmonica
Nick Buck - drums

Tracks 20-22
Gary Miller - vocals, acoustic guitar
Glenn Miller - accordion
Thomas Fisk - mandola, mandolin, electric guitar, backing vocals
Mick Howell - bass, backing vocals
Paul Stipetic - drums, backing vocals
Chuck Fleming - fiddle

Tracks 23-24
Gary Miller - vocals, acoustic guitar
Glenn Miller - accordion
Thomas Fisk - mandola, electric guitar, backing vocals
Mick Howell - bass, backing vocals
Paul Stipetic - drums, backing vocals

Tracks 25-34
Gary Miller - lead vocals, acoustic guitar
Glenn Miller - accordion
Hugh Bradley - mandolin, mandola, electric guitar, whistle, vocals
Cozy Dixon - drums
Andy Tong - bass, vocals

Tracks 35-37
Gary Miller - lead vocals, acoustic guitar
Glenn Miller- accordion
Hugh Bradley - mandola, mandolin, backing vocals


This Compilation ℗ & © 2016 Whippet Records

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The Whisky Priests Durham, UK

The Whisky Priests (1985-2002) was founded by twin brothers, Gary & Glenn Miller (“the Joe Strummer and Mick Jones of Folk Music”). The band was internationally renowned for its energetic live shows, released a number of critically acclaimed albums, toured extensively and developed a worldwide cult following. The band reunited to tour in 2018 and release a 12-disc Complete Discography CD Box-set. ... more

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