Holy cow. I'll have to call in some help on that one. I may be Canadian, but I'm no old gramaphone recording expert. I can say right off the bat that I'm big on "Ben Bolt" (Adanac Quartet) cause my mom used to sing it and the lyrics are grim and mean:
Oh don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt
Sweet Alice whose hair was so brown
Who wept with delight when you gave her a smile
And trembled with fear at your frown.
In the old church yard in the valley, Ben Bolt
In a corner obscure and alone
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray
And sweet Alice lies under the stone
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray
And sweet Alice lies under the stone
And don't you remember the school, Ben Bolt
And the master so kind and so true,
And the little nook by the clear running brook,
Where we gathered the flowers as they grew?
On the masters grave grows the grass, Ben Bolt,
And the running little brook is now dry,
And of all the friends who were schoolmates then,
There remain, Ben but you and I,
And of all the friends who were schoolmates then,
There remain, Ben but you and I
Tom, I really don't know remember...was it the Musical Ride? (Royal Mounted Polic—aka: Mounties—on parading around on horses to music) ...or Morris Dancing? That's English, but highly nerdish folk music types do it all over the place (in USA too, I'm sure). It involves people strapping bells and ribbons to their shins and clonking big sticks together. Or maybe it was the Chicken Dance. hah hah. Sorry. Joe might remember.
|
Oh don't you remember sweet Alice, Ben Bolt
Sweet Alice whose hair was so brown
Who wept with delight when you gave her a smile
And trembled with fear at your frown.
In the old church yard in the valley, Ben Bolt
In a corner obscure and alone
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray
And sweet Alice lies under the stone
They have fitted a slab of granite so gray
And sweet Alice lies under the stone
And don't you remember the school, Ben Bolt
And the master so kind and so true,
And the little nook by the clear running brook,
Where we gathered the flowers as they grew?
On the masters grave grows the grass, Ben Bolt,
And the running little brook is now dry,
And of all the friends who were schoolmates then,
There remain, Ben but you and I,
And of all the friends who were schoolmates then,
There remain, Ben but you and I
Tom, I really don't know remember...was it the Musical Ride? (Royal Mounted Polic—aka: Mounties—on parading around on horses to music) ...or Morris Dancing? That's English, but highly nerdish folk music types do it all over the place (in USA too, I'm sure). It involves people strapping bells and ribbons to their shins and clonking big sticks together. Or maybe it was the Chicken Dance. hah hah. Sorry. Joe might remember.
- sally mckay 4-19-2005 11:23 pm