This is one of the songs that I miss seeing the late, great Tommy Makem perform. With a smile and a tinwhistle intro he would have the entire audience singing and clapping along.

A Place In The Choir is the Irish Pub Song Of The Day. The song makes for a great frailing banjo lesson. It’s a simple three chord song and it doesn’t take too much to pull off the melody.

Have fun with it and play along!

A Place In The Choir(PDF)

Place in the Choir

[G]All God’s creatures got a place in the choir,

[D]Some sing low, [G]some sing higher,

Some [C]sing out loud on the [G]telephone wire,

[D]Some just clap their [G]hands, or paws, or anything they got.

Listen to the bass, it’s the one on the bottom,
Where the bullfrog croaks and the hippopotomus
Moans and groans with a big to-do,
And the old cow just goes “moo”.

The dogs and the cats, they take up the middle,
Where the hummingbirds hum and the cricket fiddles,
The donkey brays and the pony neighs,
The old coyote howls.

{c:Chorus.}

Listen to the top where the birds sing
On the melody with the high notes ringin’,
While the hoot owl hollers over everything,
The jay bird disagrees.

Singin’ in the nighttime, singin’ in the day,
The little duck quacks and he’s on his way,
The opossum ain’t got much to say,
And the porcupine talks to himself.
{c:Chorus.}

It’s a simple song of livin’ sung everywhere,
By the ox, the fox, and the grizzly bear,
The grumpy alligator and the hawk above,
The sly raccoon and the turtle dove.

It’s my 300th video on YouTube and I thought it would be appropriate to perform and show a frailing banjo lesson on the first Irish Pub Song that I ever figured out on my own. I love songs that tell a story and this is no different. The story comes from the 1798 Irish Uprising.

Grab your banjo and have fun!

Roddy McCorley(PDF)

RODDY MCCORLEY

Oh [G]see the fleet foot host of men who [C]speed with faces [G]wan

From farmstead and from [C]fisher’s [G]cot [C]along the [Am]banks of [D7]Bann

They [G]come with vengeance [C]in their [G]eyes. To [Em]late to [Am]late are [D7]they

For [G]young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the [C]bridge of Toome [G]today

Up the narrow streets he steps smiling proud and young
About the hemp rope on his neck the golden ringlets clung
There is never a fear in his blue eyes both glad and bright are they
As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today

When he last stepped up that street his shining pike in hand
Behind him marched in grim array a stalward earnest band
For Antrim town, for Antrim town, he lead them to the fray
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today

There is never a one of all your dead more bravely fell in fray
Than he who marches to his fate on the bridge of Toome today
To true the last, to true the last he treads the upward way
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today

I said I would put up some lessons last week, but a Skype lesson turned into a week of jamming with a new student. It was fun to see the light bulbs turn on over someone’s head. Every time I thought I was ready to record a video, I would think of something else to help him out and off I would go on another 2 hours of playing songs.

I had some requests and most of them for Carrickfergus since I put up the video of me performing it at the Henry Reed Memorial Fiddler’s Convention.

So here it is and I just had to play it on the banjola since Fred got me hooked on playing it again!

Carrickfergus (PDF)

CARRICKFERGUS

[G]I wish I [Am]was[D7] in Carrick[G]fergus,

[Em]Only for [Am]night[D7]s in Bally[G]gran,

I would swim [Am]ov[D7]er the deepest [G]ocean,

[Em]The deepest [Am]oce[D7]an for my love to [G]find,

But the [D7]sea is [G]wide[Em] and I cannot swim [D7]over,

[G]Nor have [Em]I the [Am]wings to [D7]fly,

If [G]I could [Am]me[D7]et a handsome [G]boatsman[Em],

To ferry me [Am]ov[D7]er to my love and [G]I.

Now in Kilkenny, it is reported,
On marble stones there as black as ink,
With gold and silver I would support her,
But I’ll sing no more now ’till I get a drink.
I’m drunk today and I’m seldom sober,
A handsome rover from town to town,
Ah but I’m sick now and my days are numbered, X 2
Come all ye young men and lay me down.