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Mrs. McGrath |
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Sing by Bruce Springsteen |
[00:06.34] |
From Album:<We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions> |
[00:10.36] |
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[00:15.10] |
"Mrs. McGrath," the sergeant said, |
[00:17.31] |
"Would you like to make a solider out of your son Ted? |
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With a scarlet coat and a big cocked hat, |
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And Mrs. McGrath, wouldn't you like that?" |
[00:26.22] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[00:31.56] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[00:37.20] |
Now, Mrs. McGrath lived on the shore |
[00:39.27] |
And after seven years or more |
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She spied a ship come into the bay |
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With her son from far away |
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"Oh captain dear, where have you been? |
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You've been sailing the Mediterranean. |
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Have you news of my son Ted? |
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Is he living or is he dead?" |
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With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[01:04.22] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
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Up came Ted without any legs |
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And in their place, two wooden pegs. |
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She kissed him a dozen times or two |
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And said, "My god, Ted is it you?" |
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"Now were you drunk or were you blind |
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When you left your two fine legs behind? |
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Or was it walking upon the sea |
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That wore your two fine legs away?" |
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With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[01:36.64] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[01:42.08] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[01:47.24] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
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"No, I wasn't drunk and I wasn't blind |
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When I left my two fine legs behind. |
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A cannon ball on the fifth of May |
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TOre my two fine legs away." |
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"Oh, Teddy boby," the window cried. |
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"Your two fine legs were your mother's pride. |
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Stumps of a tree won't do at all. |
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Why didn't you run from the cannon ball?" |
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With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
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With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
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With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
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With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[02:34.95] |
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"All foreign wars I do proclaim |
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Live on the blood and the mothers'pain. |
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I'd rather have my son as he used to be, |
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Than the King of America and his whole navy." |
[03:17.32] |
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[03:19.00] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[03:24.67] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[03:29.79] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[03:34.87] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[03:40.14] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[03:45.12] |
With your too-ri-a, fol-di-diddle-da, too-ri, oor-ri,oor-ri-a |
[03:51.00] |
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