The Sailor Being Tired (Roud 269) (1967) - Dillard Chandler Sings An Old Traditional Mountain Ballad скачать в хорошем качестве

The Sailor Being Tired (Roud 269) (1967) - Dillard Chandler Sings An Old Traditional Mountain Ballad

The Sailor Boy / A Sailor Being Tired / Bell Bottom Trousers / Rawsberry Lane / Raspberry Lane / Rosemary Lane (Roud No. 269) - Sung by Dillard Chandler of Big Laurel, North Carolina. From the documentary "The End of an Old Song" (1969) about the ballad singer Dillard Chandler and the mountain people of North Carolina. Filmed and recorded by John Cohen in 1967. The complete movie can be watched here: https://www.folkstreams.net/films/end... I extracted the songs and used my knowledge on video editing to share them on Youtube in the highest possible quality, I used manual video upscaling (no AI was used!) for this, to further document variants of traditional ballads and songs which has been my hobby for many years. I claim no ownership of the video, all the rights belong with John Cohen. Note by Kevin W.: This is an old English ballad, but sung in the style of the mountain people of North Carolina. Dillard Chandler could neither read nor write but he knew hundreds of songs, some of them very old. They were brought over from England, Scotland and Ireland with the early settlers and lived on in the memory of the mountain singers. Dillard Chandler's tune follows the first half of the English "When I was a Servant in Rosemary Lane" quite closely. It's as simple as it's beautiful. Song transcription: It's a sailor being tired, well, he hung down his head. It's a sailor being tired, well, he hung down his head. Well, he asked a little maid to show him the bed. Well, she showed him the bed, like a maid ought to do, And she showed him the bed, like a maid ought to do. Well, he said, "My little honey, won't you come to bed too." It's what I done there, well, I wouldn't tell here. It's what I done there, well, I wouldn't tell here. But I wish 'at night could-a been a long year. If it is a boy child, please name it after me. Put a pistol in its pocket, Lord, send it to the sea. Put a pistol in its pocket, Lord, dress it in blue. Tell hit to hug the women like I used to do.