1. |
The Wishing Well
04:50
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When hope is lost and prayers are spent
When faith is gone and nothing’s left
There’s a wooded grove near Inverness
Where ancient ways still take a breath
Tie your wish around a tree
Let it flutter in the breeze
Perhaps the fates will intercede
And what will be will be will be
CH: Let’s make our way to the wishing well
And ask the spirits there who dwell
To hear our dreams and weave their spells
Let’s make our way to the wishing well
My heart is sick my heart is sore
For you don’t want me anymore
And I have done my best to try
But you don’t love me and I don’t know why
My love fell ill and I’m afraid
To see her sicken day by day
And the doctors all just shake their heads
Just pray to god is all they said
I’m as poor as poor can be
The dregs of this society
I've sunk down to hell below
Now there's nowhere else for me to go
When we walk in places thin
Where time and space don't mean a thing
It’s us who should be stepping in
The world cries out but we’re not listening
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2. |
The Wolf Of Badenoch
03:38
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With the blood of The Bruce thick in his veins
And too much power held tight in his reins
A true prince of Scotland spoiled and cruel
A lust for the land for his own rule
With titles and wealth and the law on his side
They called him the wolf for his greed and his pride
A bully who ruled with a grasping steel fist
A lowlander claiming the high North as his
CH: The Wolf of Badenoch’s coming your way
Your land and your money and life he will take
If your paths ever cross then you’ll rue the day
You saw the Wolf of Badenoch coming your way
His lair was the castle of dark Lochindorb
His wife was the Lady and Countess of Ross
When she bears him no sons she’s cast out in disgrace
And his favourite mistress has taken her place
But the Bishop of Moray threatens divorce
And his land gained through marriage would surely be lost
The price of divorce was too high to pay
So the wolf had to send his true love away
His anger raged wicked when forced to back down
So he set out to burn and tear Moray down
He put towns and cathedrals and homes to the flame
And a thousand years later God will still curse his name
He died in the year of 1405
They say he and the devil played chess for his life
His body still lies in a tomb at Dunkeld
While his soul burns forever and ever in hell
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3. |
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We sailed out into the Bristol Channel, from Swansea round to Galway Bay
Heading west, into the rays of the setting sun, America we’re on our way
The boat was filled with working men and families, with hopes and dreams of honest toil
Irish, Welsh, Scots and Cornish keen to get their hands deep in American soil
But even though our eyes were looking west
Our hearts were drifting back to shore
Your native land is hard to leave behind
When you believe you’ll see your home no more
CH: The Celtic Sea, the Celtic Sea is the first leg of this odyssey
Where the waters of home and the currents of new worlds meet
On the celtic sea, the celtic sea
Though my eyes are looking west to America, my heart’s in the Celtic Sea
When we made land in America, we all went our different ways
Some went west to San Francisco, some went north to Hudson Bay
Some stayed east in New York City, some went south towards the sun
For coal and gold, for cotton or tobacco, some went to war with a gun
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she with silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
And now we’re all Americans
But still our Celtic roots run deep
Across the ocean back through time
The Celtic Sea washes through our dreams
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4. |
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A headstone sits on a lonely moor where a young girl lies
She lost her heart to a sailor lad who left when she was with child
She put a rope around her neck for she could not stand the shame
Here lies Betty Corrigall that was the poor girl’s name
She took her life on that lonely moor but in peace she did not rest
Sinners cheat the Reaper’s scythe so she was shunned in death
For a hundred years and more she lay lost to the sight of God
Until the day a digger’s spade hit wood beneath the sod
CH: Lay a wreath for the Lady of Hoy
She fell in love with a boy x2
He promised her a golden wedding ring
So she gave everything x2
When her dead eyes saw the light of day the diggers were un-nerved
Her body whole, her hair was long for the peat bog had preserved
So they put her back into the ground but through the passing years
The curious would dig her up to stare not to revere
But now she has a fine white stone and a service with God’s word
And people come from far and wide to pay their respects to her
So here lies Betty Corrigall that’s what her headstone says
It’s a sorry tale of love and loss, of a poor girl led astray
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5. |
Tugboats Of The Tyne
04:18
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CH: I spend my time on the river, on the mighty River Tyne
I pull the big ships into place and push them into line
I tell them where to go yet I’m, a fraction of their size
I’m a tugboat… on the mighty River Tyne
I was built right on this river, powered by coal and steam
Oh the shipyards of Tyneside were a fine sight to be seen
This river is a wild one where it flows out to the sea
And to keep the coal ships sailing south they needed tugs like me
I've seen the shipyards close, I’ve seen the mines shut down
I’ve seen the march set off from Jarrow and walk to London town
I used to know each funnel by, their colours and designs
But the glory days of steam have gone for the tugboats of the Tyne
Today my diesel engine is 10,000 horses strong
To keep the cargo ships and ferries and cruisers moving on
I’m still working on the river, I’m ruled by shifting tides
And I’m proud to pull my weight and more on the mighty River Tyne
Just like the cowboys of old, wrangling big bulls
The river is my prairie, it’s big ships I lasso
And like the cowboys and buffalo, our numbers have declined
But for now I’ll ride the currents of the mighty River Tyne
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6. |
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From Dunbar you came to the peaks of California
You ventured on foot through miles of creation
Stripped away scripture revealing the true laws of nature
Born again free of God’s wrath and hellfire damnation
Baptised by rock and sky and timber
To drink his fill from streams of clear water
His heart was strong and his vision pure
Come into the church of John Muir
You felt you’d died and woke up in heaven
Yosemite’s secrets your source of devotion
You preached the forests you worshipped the woods
You went beyond valleys of ice seeking the truth
A man alone in the wilderness
The living world put you to the test
Your faith in nature deep and sure
This is the gospel of John Muir
American wild you true nature’s child
The sacred secure the heartlands endure
Beauty stands still through sheer force of will
Here’s to you John Muir
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Malcolm MacWatt London, UK
“MacWatt will doubtless be considered among the best of the new breed of folksingers and songwriters, who speak of the past
as a way to perhaps understand it and move forward” Stephen Rapid, Lonesome Highway
“He shines as a singer and he shines as an interpreter of the eternal folk songbook,” Tom Brosseau, The Great American Folk Show, North Dakota
... more
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