1. |
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Whisky you're the devil
You're leading me astray
Over hills and mountains
And to Amerikay
You're sweeter, stronger, decenter,
And spunkier than tea
Oh whisky you're my darling drunk or sober
Now brave boys, we're on for march
Off to Portugal and Spain
Drums are beating, banners flying
The Devil all home we'll come tonight
Love, fare thee well
With me tithery-aye me doodle-ah-m'dah
Me tithery-aye me doodle-ah-m'dah
Me rikes fall to ra laddie-o
There's whisky in the jar
Hey! Whisky you're the devil
You're leading me astray
Over hills and mountains
And to Amerikay
You're sweeter, stronger, decenter,
And spunkier than tea
Oh whisky you're my darling drunk or sober
Says the mother do not wrong me
Don't take me daughter from me
For if you do I will torment you
An' after death, my ghost will haunt you
Love, fare thee well
With me tithery-aye me doodle-ah-m'dah
Me tithery-aye me doodle-ah-m'dah
Me rikes fall to ra laddie-o
There's whisky in the jar
Hey! Whisky you're the devil
You're leading me astray
Over hills and mountains
And to Amerikay
You're sweeter, stronger, decenter,
And spunkier than tea
Oh whisky you're my darling drunk or sober
Now, the French are fighting boldly
Men are dying hot and coldly
Give every man his flask of powder
His firelock on his shoulder
Love, fare thee well
With me tithery-aye me doodle-ah-m'dah
Me tithery-aye me doodle-ah-m'dah
Me rikes fall to ra laddie-o
There's whisky in the jar
Hey! Whisky you're the devil
You're leading me astray
Over hills and mountains
And to Amerikay
You're sweeter, stronger, decenter,
And spunkier than tea
Oh whisky you're my darling drunk or sober
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2. |
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Come all ye lads and lasses, and hear my mournful tale,
Ye tender hearts that weep for love to sigh you will not fail,
'Tis all about a young man, and my song will tell you how
He lately came a-courtin' of the Maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe.
Said he, "My pretty young fair maid, could you and I agree,
To join our hands in wedlock bands, and married we will be;
We'll join our hands in wedlock bands, and you'll have my plighted vow,
That I'll do my whole endeavors for the Maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe.
Now this young and pretty fickle thing, she knew not what to say,
Her eyes did shine like silver bright, and merrily did play;
Says she, "Young man, your love subdue, I am not ready now,
And I'll spend another season at the foot of the Sweet Brown Knowe."
"Oh," says he, "My pretty young fair maid, now why do you say so?
Look down in yonder valley where my verdant crops do grow.
Look down in yonder valley at my horses and my plough,
All at their daily labor for the Maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe."
"If they're at their daily labor, kind sir, it is not for me.
I've heard of your behavior, I have, kind sir, " said she;
"There is an inn where you drop in, I've heard the people say,
Where you rap and you call and you pay for all, and go home by the break of
day."
"If I rap and I call and I pay for all, my money is all my own.
I've never spent aught of your fortune, for I hear that you've got none.
You thought you had my poor heart broke in talkin' to you now,
But I'll leave you where I found you, at the foot of the Sweet Brown Knowe."
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3. |
The Moonshiner
03:02
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I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler, I'm a long way from home
And if you don't like me, well, leave me alone
I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry
And the moonshine don't kill me, I'll live til I die
I've been a moonshiner for many a year
I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer
I'll go to some hollow, I'll set up my still
And I'll make you a gallon for a ten shilling bill
I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler, I'm a long way from home
And if you don't like me, well, leave me alone
I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry
And the moonshine don't kill me, I'll live til I die
I'll go to some hollow in this counterie
Ten gallons of wash I can go on a spree
No women to follow, the world is all mine
I love none so well as I love the moonshine
I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler, I'm a long way from home
And if you don't like me, well, leave me alone
I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry
And the moonshine don't kill me, I'll live til I die
Oh, moonshine, dear moonshine, oh, how I love thee
You killed me old father, but ah you try me
Now bless all moonshiners and bless all moonshine
Their breath smells as sweet as the dew on the vine
I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler, I'm a long way from home
And if you don't like me, well, leave me alone
I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry
And the moonshine don't kill me, I'll live til I die
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4. |
Bold Thady Quill
02:30
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Ye maids of Dulhallow who are anxious for courtin'
a word of advice I will give unto ye
preceed to the Banteeer to the athletic sporting
and give in your names to the Club Committee
and never commence any sketch of your program
till the carriage you see coming over the hill
all down through the valleys and glens of Kilcorney
with the Muskerry sportsman, the Bold Thaddy Quill
for ramblin for rovin for football and sportin'
for drinkin' black porter as fast as you fill
in all you days rovin' you'll find none so jovial
as the Muskerry sportsman the Bold Thaddy Quill
At the great hurling match between Cork and Tipperary
that was held in the park on the banks of the Lee
our own darling boys were afraid of being beaten
so they sent for Bold Thaddy in Ballinagree
well he hurled the ball left and right in their faces
he showed those Tipperary boys daring and skill
If they touched on his lines he would certainly brain them
and the papers sang praises of the Bold Thaddy Quill
At the Cork Exhibition there was a fair maiden
who's fortune exceeded one million or more
but a poor constitution had ruined her completely
and medical treatment had failed o're and o're
Ah mother she says sure I know what will ease me
and all the diseases most certainly kill
give over your potions and medical treatment
I'd rather one squeeze from the Bold Thaddy Quill
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5. |
Rosin The Bow
03:23
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I've traveled all over this world
And now to another I go
And I know that good quarters are waiting
To welcome old Rosin the Bow
To welcome old Rosin the Bow
To welcome old Rosin the Bow
And I know that good quarters are waiting
To welcome old Rosin the Bow
When I'm dead and laid out on the counter,
A voice you will hear from below
Sayin', "Send down a hogshead of whiskey
To drink with old Rosin the Bow!"
To drink with old Rosin the Bow
To drink with old Rosin the Bow
Sayin', "Send down a hogshead of whiskey
To drink with old Rosin the Bow!"
Then get a half dozen stout fellas
And stack 'em all up in a row
Let 'em drink out of half-gallon bottles
To the memory of Rosin the Bow
To the memory of Rosin the Bow
To the memory of Rosin the Bow
Let 'em drink out of half-gallon bottles
To the memory of Rosin the Bow
Then get this half dozen stout fellas
And let them all stagger and go
And dig a great hole in the meadow
And in it put Rosin the Bow
And in it put Rosin the Bow
And in it put Rosin the Bow
And dig a great hole in the meadow
And in it put Rosin the Bow
Then get ye a couple of bottles,
Put one at me head and me toe
With a diamond ring scratch upon 'em
The name of old Rosin the Bow
The name of old Rosin the Bow
The name of old Rosin the Bow
With a diamond ring scratch upon 'em
The name of old Rosin the Bow
I fear that old tyrant approaching,
That cruel, remorseless old Foe
And I lift up me glass in his honour:
Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow!
Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow
Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow
And I lift up me glass in his honour:
Take a drink with old Rosin the Bow!
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6. |
Finnigan's Wake
02:17
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Tim Finnegan lived in watling street
A gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet
To rise in the world, he carried a hod
See, he'd sort of a tipplin' way
With love for the liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on with his work each day
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn'
Whack fol, de, dah
Now, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth, they told ye lots of fun
At Finnegan's wake
One morning Tim got rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake
Fell from a ladder and he broke his skull
They carried him home, his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
A gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a bottle of porter at his head
Whack fol, de, dah
Now, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth, they told ye lots of fun
At Finnegan's wake
His friends assembled at the wake
And misses Finnegan called for lunch
First she brought in tea and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien began to cry
Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
Tim mavourneen, why did you die?
Arrah, hold your gob, said Patty Megee
Whack fol, de, dah
Now, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth, they told ye lots of fun
At Finnegan's wake
Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
"Arrah", biddy says, she ye're wrong, I'm sure
Biddy then gave her a belt on the gob
And left her sprawling on the floor
There the war did soon engage
Woman to woman and man to man
Shillelah law was all the rage
An a row and a ruction soon began
Whack fol, de, dah
Now, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth, they told ye lots of fun
At Finnegan's wake
Then Mickey Maloney raised his head
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him
It missed him falling on the bed
The liquor scattered over Tim
Tim revives, see how he rises
Timothy rising from the bed
Then Whirl your whiskey around
Like blazes Thanum an Dhul
Do ye think I'm dead?
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7. |
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Beside a hill there is a still,
Where the smoke runs up to the sky;
You ean always tell by the whiff and the smell
That the liquor boys are nigh.
That the liquor boys are nigh,
That the liquor boys are nigh,
You ean always tell by the whiff and the smell,
That the liquor boys are nigh.
This mountain dew is made from grain,
And mixed with water pure,
And the alcohol that it eontains
Will all your troubles cure.
Will all your troubles cure,
Will all your troubles cure,
And the alcohol that it contains
Will all your troubles sure.
AII learned men who use the pen
Have writ its praises high;
It fills the air with perfume rare
Distilled with wheat and rye.
Distilled with wheat and rye,
Distilled with wheat and rye,
It fills the air with perfume rare
Distilled with wheat and rye.
Away with pills,'twill cure the ills
Of Pagan, Christian and Jew,
Off with your coat and wet your throat
With the real old mountain dew.
With the real old mountain dew,
With the real old mountain dew,
Off with your coat and wet your throat
With the real old mountain dew.
So before we roll won't you have another bowl
Of the good old mountain dew?
Of the good old mountain dew?
Of the good old mountain dew?
Of the good old mountain dew?
Of the good old mountain dew?
So before we roll won't you have another bowl
Of the good old mountain dew?
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8. |
Courtin' In The Kitchen
03:30
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Come single belle and beau, unto me pay attention
Don't ever fall in love, for it's the devil's own invention
For once I fell in love with a maiden so bewitching
Miss Henrietta Bell out in Captain Kelly's kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
At the age of seventeen I was 'prenticed to a grocer
Not far from Stephen's Green where Miss Henri' used to go sir
Her manners were sublime and she set me heart a-twitchin'
When she invited me to a hooley in the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
Oh, next Sunday bein' the day that we were to have the flare-up
I dressed meself quite gay and I frizzed and oiled me hair up
The Captain had no wife and he had gone a-fishin'
And we kicked up high life down below stairs in the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
With her arm around me waist, she slyly hinted marriage
To the door in dreadful haste came Captain Kelly's carriage
Her eyes were full of hate and poison she was spittin'
When the Captain at the door, walked right into the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
When the Captain came downstairs, though he saw me situation
In despite of all me prayers I was marched off to the station
For me they'd take no bail, but to get home I was itchin'
And I had to tell the tale, how I came into the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
Now, I said she did invite me, but she gave a flat denial
For assault she did indict me, and I was sent for trial
She swore I robbed the house and in spite of all her schreechin'
And I got six months hard for me courtin' in the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
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9. |
Mick McGuire
02:32
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Oh, me name is Mick McGuire and I'll quickly tell to you
Of a young girl I admired called Katy Donahue
She was fair and fat and forty and believe me when I say
That whenever I came in at the door you could hear her mammy say:
"Johnny, get up from the fire, get up and give the man a sate
Can't you see it's Mr McGuire and he's courting your sister Kate
Ah, you know very well he owns a farm a wee bit out of the town
Arragh, get up out of that, you impudent brat, and let Mr McGuire sit down"
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
"Ah, you know very well he owns that farm a wee bit out of the town
Arragh, get up out of that, you impudent brat, and let Mr McGuire sit down"
Now, the first time that I met her was at a dance at Tarmagee
And I very kindly asked her if she'd dance a step with me
Then I asked if I could see her home if I'd be going her way
And whenever I come in at the door you could hear her mammy say:
"Johnny, get up from the fire, get up and give the man a sate
Can't you see it's Mr McGuire and he's courting your sister Kate
Ah, you know very well he owns a farm a wee bit out of the town
Arragh, get up out of that, you impudent brat, and let Mr McGuire sit down"
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
"Ah, you know very well he owns that farm a wee bit out of the town
Arragh, get up out of that, you impudent brat, and let Mr McGuire sit down"
Ah, but now that we are married, sure her mother's changed her mind
Just because I spent the legacy her father left behind
She hasn't got the decency to bid me time of day
Now whenever I come in at the door you'd hear the old one say:
"Johnny, come up to the fire, come up, you're sitting in the draft
Can't you see it's old McGuire and he nearly drives me daft
Ah, I don't know what gets into him, for he's always on the tare
Arragh, just sit where you are and never you dare to give old McGuire the chair"
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
"Ah, I don't know what gets into him, for he's always on the tare
Arragh, just sit where you are and never you dare to give old McGuire the chair"
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10. |
A Jug Of Punch
03:27
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'Twas early, early, in the month of June
I was sitting with my glass and spoon.
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was a jug of punch.
Toor-a-loora-la, toor-a-loora-lie
Toor-a-loora-la, toor-a-loora-lie
A small bird sat on an ivy bunch
And the song he sang was a jug of punch.
If I were sick, and very bad
And were not able to go or stand,
I would not think it at all amiss
To pledge my shoes for a jug of punch.
Toor-a-loora-la, toor-a-loora-lie
Toor-a-loora-la, toor-a-loora-lie
I would not think it at all amiss
To pledge my shoes for a jug of punch.
What more diversion can a man desire
Than to sit him down by a snug turf fire,
Upon his knee a pretty wench
And upon his table a jug of punch.
Toor-a-loora-la, toor-a-loora-lie
Toor-a-loora-la, toor-a-loora-lie
Upon his knee a pretty wench
And upon his table a jug of punch.
And when I'm dead and in my grave
No costly tombstone will I have,
I'll dig a grave both wide and deep
With a jug of punch at my head and feet.
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11. |
Johnny McEldoo
01:41
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There was Johnny McEldoo and McGee and me
And a couple of two or three went on the spree one day
We had a bob or two, which we knew how to blew
And the beer and whiskey flew and we all felt gay
We visited McCann's, Maclaman's, Humpty Dan's
We then went into Swan's, our stomachs for to pack
We ordered out a feed, which indeed, we did need
And we finished it with speed, but we still felt slack
Johnny McEldoo turned red white and blue
As a plate of irish stew he soon put out of sight
He shouted out "Encore!" with a roar for some more
That he'd never felt before such a keen appetite
We ordered eggs and ham, bread and jam, what a cram
But him, we couldn't ram, though we tried our level best
For everthing we brought, cold or hot, mattered not
It went down him like a shot but he still stood the test
He swallowed tripe and lard by the yard, we got scared
We thought it would go hard when the waiter brought the bill
Told him to give o'er, but he swore he could lower
Twice as much again and more before he had his fill
He nearly supped a trough full of broth. Says McGrath,
"He'll devour the tablecloth if you don't hold him in"
When the waiter brought the charge, McEldoo felt so large
He began to scout and barge and his blood went on fire
He began to curse and swear, tear his hair in despair
And to finish the affair, called the shop man a liar
The shop man, he threw out and no doubt, he did clout
McEldoo he kicked about like an old football
Tattered all his clothes, broke his nose, I suppose
He would have killed him with a few blows in no time at all
McEldoo began to howl and to growl, by my soul
Threw an empty bowl at the shop keeper's head
Struck poor Mickey Flynn, peeled the skin from his chin
An a ruction did begin and we all fought and bled
Peelers did arrive, man alive, four or five
At us they made a drive for us all to march away
We paid for all the meat that we ate, stood a trait
And went home to ruminate on the spree that day.
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12. |
Cruiscín Lán
02:06
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Let the farmer praise his grounds
Let the huntsman praise his hounds
Let the shepherd praise his dewyscented lawn
Oh but I'm more wise than they
Spend each happy night and day
With my darlin' little cruiscín lán, lán, lán
My darlin' little cruiscín lán
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín
(Oh, graw moh kree moh krooshkeen)
Slainte geal Mauverneen
(Slawnta gal Mohvoorneen)
Gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín lán, lán, lán
(Graw moh kree moh krooshkeen lawn, lawn, lawn)
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín lán
(Oh, graw moh kree moh krooshkeen lawn)
Immortal and divine
Great Bacchus, god of wine
Create me by adoption your own son
In hopes that you'll comply
That my glass shall ne'er run dry
Nor my darlin' little cruiscín lán, lán, lán
My darlin' little cruiscín lán
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín
Slainte geal Mauverneen
Gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín lán, lán, lán
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín lán
Oh, when cruel death appears
In a few but happy years
You'll say: "Oh, won't you come along with me?"
I'll say: "Begone, you knave,
For King Bacchus gave me lave
To take another cruiscín lán, lán, lán
To take another cruiscín lán"
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín
Slainte geal Mauverneen
Gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín lán, lán, lán
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín lán
Then fill your glasses high
Let's not part with lips so dry
For the lark now proclaims it is the dawn
And since we can't remain
May we shortly meet again
To fill another cruiscín lán, lán, lán
To fill another cruiscín lán
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín
Slainte geal Mauverneen
Gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín lán, lán, lán
Oh, gradh mo chroide mo cruiscín lán
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13. |
Portláirge
01:17
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Ó do bhiossa lá i Portláirge
Oh dhu vee-sah law Purth-law-rig-eh
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Bhi fion is punch ar chlár ann
Vee feen iss punch err klawr oun
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Bhi lán á ti de mhnaibh ann
Vee lawn ah tee dhe vnaw-iv oun
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Agus mise ag ól a sláinte
Og-gus mish egg ohl ah slawnteh
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Agus d'éaluigh bean ó Rath liom
Og-gus thale-ig ban oh Raw lum
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Agus triúr ó Thiobraid Árann
Og-gus throor oh Hibb-ar-idh Aw-ron
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Ni raibh a muintir sásta
Nee rev ah mween-thar saws-tha
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Ni rabhadar ach leath-shásta
Nee row-dhar ock lah-haws-tha
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Ó raghadsa ón Charraig amárach
Oh ride-sah oan Korr-igg am-awr-ock
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Agus tabharfad cailin bréa liom
Og-gus thaur-hadh koll-een brah lum
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Gabhfaimid trid an Bhearnan
Go-meedh treedh on Vaar-nan
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
Ó thuaidh go Thiobraid Árann
Oh how-ig guh Hibb-ar-idh Awr-on
Fol dow fol dee fol the dad eye um
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14. |
The Parting Glass
02:45
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Of all the money that e'er I spent
I've spent it in good company
And all the harm that ever I did
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all
If I had money enough to spend
And leisure to sit awhile
There is a fair maid in the town
That sorely has my heart beguiled
Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips
I own she has my heart enthralled
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all
Oh, all the comrades that e'er I had
They're sorry for my going away
And all the sweethearts that e'er I had
They'd wish me one more day to stay
But since it falls unto my lot
That I should rise and you should not
I'll gently rise and softly call
Good night and joy be with you all
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The London Celtic Punks London, UK
For drunx, celtic-punx and vagabonds!
"There's always been a strong argument that folk music is the original rebel
music. The music of the people and historically through that music the people challenged the land owners, challenged the state and wrote the stories that recounted these acts; Therefore it could be argued that folk was in fact the first real punk rock"
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