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Brummie folk historian and online pen pal, Pam Bishop, sent me this song because it had been published in New Meeting Street, Birmingham, in the heyday of broadside balladry. I’ve recorded it here with Lukas Drinkwater and Tom Gregory. Cecil Sharp, who collected it in 1908 from Charles Neville in East Coker, Somerset, felt it was “boisterous and unprintable”. I’ve adapted the words slightly - I’d hate to think what he’d make of it now.

lyrics

There was a bold boatswain and in Dover he did dwell
And a handsome wife had whom a tailor’s loved well
And when the bold boatswain was out of the way
His frolicsome young wife and the tailor they would play
To my rally tally tall, oh rally tally tay

One day she’s gone a-walking and she’s out into the street
When this loving tailor man, well she has chanced there to meet
“My husband is on board with the rest of the crew
So on this very night I shall frolic here with you”
To my rally tally tall, oh rally tally tay

Now as it all fell out, about twelve of the clock
Well, the boatswain he’s returned and on the door there he did knock
Which surprised them in their frolics, for neither were to sleep,
Says the tailor, “loving woman, O where shall I creep?”
To my rally tally tall, oh rally tally tay

So there they’ve laid a-pondering and musing in the bed
When a comical fancy has come into her head
“My husband’s chest’s a-waitin ‘neath the dresser, there,” she’s cried
Where in it my young tailor you may certainally hide
To my rally tally tall, oh rally tally tay

So down the stairs she goes and she’s opened up the door
Where she’s found the boatswain there with sailors three or four
“My dear I am so sorry I’ve disturbed you in your rest
But here I am returned for I need to have my chest”
To my rally tally tall, oh rally tally tay

From the chest the tailor whispers, “woman, pay me some regard
They’ll be breaking all my bones and they’ll be cutting off my yard
And if that were to happen then I’m ruined I’m afraid
For I get more from my yard than from the tailor trade”
To my rally tally tall, oh rally tally tay

Well the sailors scarcely carried that old chest from the town
When the weight of it had drenched them in sweat all running down
They sat themselves all comfy on their baggage for to rest
Saying one to another, well the devil’s in the chest
To my rally tally tall, oh rally tally tay

Now, neither of these sailors this old chest could undo
So up comes the boatswain and the rest of the crew
He’s opened up the cargo and in view of them all
There lay the tailor like a dog inside a stall
To my rally tally tall, oh rally tally tay

“Now, what have we here, bold fellow,” the boatswain cried
“I’ve been cuckolded on shore many times I’m afraid”
So he pressed this bold tailor and took him off to sea
Saying, “he’ll not be staying at home with his yard to cuckold me”
To my rally tally tall, oh rally tally tay

credits

from Before I Knew What Had Begun I Had Already Lost, released May 5, 2023
Trad, arr Wilks. Roud 570
Produced by Jon Wilks
Mastered by Nick Cooke

Jon Wilks - acoustic guitar, vocals
Lukas Drinkwater - double bass
Tom Gregory - percussion, backing vocals

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Jon Wilks Whitchurch, UK

'The sort of performer folk circles mean when they talk of the living tradition' - Mike Davies, Folking.com

“One of the best of the New Wave of Folk Blokes. As a guitar player and arranger of traditional songs, Jon Wilks already deserves speaking of in the same breath as your Simpsons and your Morays.” – Ian A. Anderson, fRoots Mag
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