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The
Pride of Purt la Morra
(The Pride of Port St. Mary) |
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This is a popular Manx song. A big headed man who is capable of anything and sure of his status in the community. (I'm not absolutely sure if the song is traditional or written by someone still alive. If you know otherwise, please mail me.)
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If
you enjoy this MP3, why not take a look at our CD which features some
further Manx and popular folk/blues songs in high quality stereo. Click
here.
(Lyrics)
I'm the pride of Port le Murra, I can
reap or plough a furra', I can find the gentle lug-worm in the sand, I am up to all that's tricky In the
sailin' of a Nickey, An' I'm toul' there's not my aiqual in the land I'm an able-bodied seaman, And at
trawling I'm a demon, But-outside the three-mile limit-understand I am up both late and early Catching
congers long and curly, An' I'm toul' there's not my aiqual in the land. In the land ; yes, in the land, For
there's no one better able to command, I'm up both late and early
Catching congers long and curly An' I'm toul' there's not my aiqual in
the land. I can dance the double shuffle, And wherever there's
a scuffle, I am generally there to lend a hand Though I'm what they're calling steady," For a
spree I'm always ready, And at " jough " there's not my aiqual
in the land For a tay fight none is keener, I can play the
concertina, And at Castletown they want me in the band; As a singer, I am clavar, And at " saconds
" you have navar, No! you've navar heard my aiqual in the land. In the land, yes, in the land, And for any mortal
thing I'm in demand; As a singer, I am clavar, And at " saconds
" you have navar, No ! you've navar heard my aiqual in the land.
On a Sunday to the "Ranthers," All the
neighbours come in canters, When I'm singin' in the choir-Aw it's grand, All the gels are there from Surby, An' I'm toul' they
come from Jurby, For they think there's not my aiqual in the land There's a gel at Ballaharry, Who, it's lek, I'll hev
to marry For she's gorra " slugh " of money arrer hand; If she's not exactly charmin', Yet at cookin', or at
farmin', Well! you cannot find her aiqual in the hand. In the land, yes, in the land, And, they say, she
could'n be much better manned, If she's not exactly charmin', Yet at
cookin, or at farmin'. Well! you cannot find her aiqual in the land
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