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Lyrics and songs
Welcome to surflooks lyrics directory project with a compilation of lyrics and songs that will grow as compiled by approved users and administration. Lyrics from oldies but goodies, new pop, R&B, Rap, heavy metal, 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's, 90's and new pop music. With songs from Whitney houston, Maria Carey, from Elvis, James Taylor to Jack Johnson, Alicia Keyes, Metallica and many more. All searchable lyrics. Start your search here.
Old
Westron wind
Westron wind, when will thou blow? That the small rain down can rain. Christ that my love were in my arms, And I in my bed again.
Childrens Songs
Hush a bye, don't you cry, Go to sleepy little baby. When you wake, you'll have cake, And all the pretty little horses. Black and bay, dapple and grey, Coach and six little horses, Hush a bye, don't you cry, Go to sleepy little baby. Hush a bye, don't you cry, Go to sleepy little baby, When you wake, you'll have cake, And all the pretty little horses. Way down yonder, down in the meadow, There's a poor wee little lamby. The bees and the butterflies pickin' at its eyes, The poor wee thing cried for her mammy. Hush a bye, don't you cry, Go to sleepy little baby. When you wake, you'll have cake, And all the pretty little horses.
Five Little Fishies
Five little fishies, swimming in a pool. The first one said, "The pool is cool." The second one said, "The pool is deep." The third one said, "I want to sleep." The fourth one said, "Let's take a dip." The fifth one said, "I spy a ship." Fisher boat comes, Line goes kersplash. Away the five little fishies dash.
Old
Come to the Bower
Will you come to the bower o'er the free boundless ocean Where the stupendous waves roll in thundering motion, Where the mermaids are seen and the fierce tempest gathers, To loved Erin the green, the dear land of our fathers. Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bower? Will you come, will you, will you come to the bower? Will you come to the land of O'Neill and O'Donnell Of Lord Lucan of old and immortal Dalton & O'Connell. Where Brian drove the Danes and Saint Patrick the vermin And whose valleys remain still most beautiful and charming? You can visit Benburb and the storied Blackwater, Where Owen Roe met Munroe and his Chieftains did slaughter Where the lambs skip and play on the mossy all over, From those bright golden views to enchanting Rostrevor. You can see Dublin city, and the fine groves of Blarney The Bann, Boyne, and Liffey and the Lakes of Killarney, You may ride on the tide on the broad majestic Shannon You may sail round Loch Neagh and see storied Dungannon. You can visit New Ross, gallant Wexford, and Gorey, Where the green was last seen by proud Saxon and Tory, Where the soil is sanctified by the blood of each true man Where they died satisfied that their enemies they would not run from. Will you come and awake our lost land from its slumber And her fetters we'll break, links that long are encumbered. And the air will resound with hosannahs to greet you On the shore will be found gallant Irishmen to greet you.
Whiskey in the Jar
As I was a-goin' over Gilgarra Mountain I spied Colonel Farrell, and his money he was countin'. First I drew my pistols and then I drew my rapier, Sayin' "Stand and deliver, for I am your bold receiver. Musha ringum duramda, Whack fol the daddyo, There's whiskey in the jar. He counted out his money and it made a pretty penny; I put it in my pocket to take home to darlin' Jenny. She sighed and swore she loved me and never would deceive me, Bu the devil take the women, for they always lie so easy! Musha rungum duramda I went into me chamber all for to take a slumber, To dream of gold and girls, and of course it was no wonder: Me Jenny took me charges and she filled them up with water, Called on Colonel Farrell to get ready for the slaughter. Musha rungum duramda Next mornin' early, before I rose for travel, A-came a band of footmen and likewise Colonel Farrell. I goes to draw my pistol, for she'd stole away my rapier, But a prisoner I was taken, I couldn't shoot the water. Musha rungum duramda They put me into jail with a judge all a-writin': For robbin' Colonel Farrell on Gilgarra Mountain. But they didn't take me fists and I knocked the jailer down And bid a farewell to this tight-fisted town. Musha ringum duramda I'd like to find me brother, the one who's in the army; I don't know where he's stationed, be it Cork or in Killarney. Together we'd go roamin' o'er the mountains of Kilkenny, And I swear he'd treat me fairer than my darlin' sportin' Jenny! Musha ringum duramda There's some takes delight in the carriages and rollin', Some takes delight in the hurley or the bollin', But I takes delight in the juice of the barley, Courtin' pretty maids in the mornin', o so early! Musha ringum duramda
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