Blood Red Roses

This is from “Rogue’s Gallery: Pirate Ballads, Sea Songs and Chanteys” a compilation cd to be released August 22nd, featuring various artists and created by Hal Wilner when Johnny Depp and the director of the two “Pirates of the Caribbean” movies—Gore Verbinski expressed an interest in pirate lore.

I’m smiling … I’m so glad—my, but you’re quiet today …

Then the mate came dancing on the scene And she said—now quit yer chin Or I’ll knock yer skulls—so help me, Hannah! And let some wisdom in Ye doddering scum of the slums—she says Are ye drunk or blazing nuts If ye wish to save yer sickly hides Ye best get off yet butts!

Everyone was really really hoping you weren’t serious … Huh? Does this pertain to this song's meaning? Naturally! Why do you ask? Oh ...

The artists clearly savour the opportunity to play pirate and each give it their own stamp. So, we have Bill Frisell's languid, haunting take on Spanish Ladies and Sting's hoary growl on traditional worksong Blood Red Roses, while Nick Cave snarls his way through Pinery Boy and Fire Down Below.

There are girls in forty seaports And they all wait for you Wait for Johnny Chanteyman And his all singin’ crew

But they’d better deck their bosoms With bright ribbons gay And forget about those other sailors Singin’ down the way

Now the hungry seas are breakin’ With an angry little roar And there’s black squalls a’blowin’ Pipin’ past a coral shore

There’s a clipper lying broken In quite a few odd parts He said, lady, get some other guy To play yer dumb part-heart

Tain’t no use to love a sailor Tain’t no use to wait the day For yer Johnnie’s chanteys are Cheerily ringin’ down along the bay

Tain’t no use to listen, baby For this seaman’s love Just happens to be somethin’ No one gets possession of

Bill Adams—Johnny Chanteyman [paraphrased]

We were schooner-rigged and rakish With a long and lissome hull And we flew the pretty colors Of the crossbones and the skull

The wind and sea were fair We lay at anchor there The stars burned in the air When in the midnight dark Our watcher saw a spark Then as we looked amazed Others and other blazed Terror set them crazed They ran down screaming—fire ships are coming! Wake! Cast loose for crissake! Eight fire ships coming on the lake Look at their gleaming!

The English would not close They fought us as they chose Dealing us deadly blows—for several hours And drove us north and now—another woe A never ending gale of frost and snow

Now our hearts failed They washed about the wet decks as we sailed Desolate seas we sailed so grim and wide With neither sun nor star—to be our guide Defeat is bitter and the truth is hard We are defeated—England has prevailed This is your banner—which I could not guard And this—is your crappy old sword that failed!

Down in her bunk, the beauty lay awake Thinking of her unfitness for the sea Each failure, each derision, each mistake There in the life not made for such as she The ship lay on her broadside—the wind’s sound Had devilish malice, at having got her downed

How long the wind had blown, she could not tell A moment now—was everlasting Hell Down on the bloody deck! the captain screamed The multitudinous little snowflakes sped Her pain was real enough but all else seemed Panting but full of life and eager eyed

The pain was stunning her and the wind went by More heartbreak, said the mate—here, Beauty—try! As if he got a message—hell, he’s gone Here Beauty dances—I say it will go on!

Say, there’s a mort of wicked rogues That lives in good reputes I’m for drinking honestly and dying in my boots! Green were her eyes and her hair was soft and bonny Golden she was—like wild bee’s honey And a fellow will forget—how a sleeper lies awake Lonely in the night watch Crying for his sake

[paraphrased]