Sunday 8 April 2007

Paul Brady - Wearin' The Britches

Paul plays greek bouzouki and sings this ode to traditional values with Andy Irvine and Donal Lunny in the Embankment, Tallaght in 1976.






And here he is solo with greek bouzouki from 1977.



Here's lyrics and Chords:

{t:Wearin’ The Britches}
{st:Paul Brady}


[Dm]Come all young men where e'er you be and listen to me lamentations
[Dm]I courted a girl beyond compare and I loved her with admiration
[Dm]At length in time she became my wife, [G]twas not for beauty [Am]but for riches
[C]And all the time it [F]causes strife, to [Dm]see which of us will [Am]wear the [Dm]britches


[Dm]O Paddy Kane it is my name, me height it is five foot eleven
[Dm]and Me wife is nearly not so big, she only measures four feet seven
[Dm]The hedges I have oft times stripped, [G]I've left them bare of [Am]rods and switches
[C]Her skin with blows sure [F]I’ve turned black, but [Dm]still she says she'll [Am]wear my [Dm]britches


[Dm]Well I am a tailor to my trade, at cutting out I am quite handy
[Dm]But all the money that I make, she lays it out on tea and brandy
[Dm]Now sometimes I do shout and ball with [G]nothing going with [Am]rogues and witches
[C]Her head goes oft times [F]to the wall, [Dm]still she says she'll [Am]wear me [Dm]britches


[Dm]One morning at the tea and eggs, content and sitting by the fire
[Dm]Well She broke the teapot on my legs, and left me leapin to retire
[Dm]How often do I shout and moan, as [G]I go hopping on my [Am]crutches
[C]I wished I'd broke her [F]collar bone, the [Dm]day I let her [Am]wear me [Dm]britches


[Dm]So come all young men where e'er you be, don't marry a wife if she's enchantin
[Dm]For if you do, you'll be like me, with other men she'll go gallanting
[Dm]Now my advice it is to you, to [G]marry for love and not for [Am]riches,
[C]And be sure of a wife with a [F]civil tongue, who'll [Dm]give you leave to [Am]wear your [Dm]britches.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

THanks for this! Now I have another song that I need to learn. :^)

Floyd

Irish Bouzouki said...

Hi Floyd,

thanks for the comment. If you have got the lyrics or the accompaniment finished please let me know.

klickie

Anonymous said...

I found a copy of the lyrics at http://homepages.ihug.co.nz/~dexy/music/britches.txt

Brady sings them a little differently (and a in a differnent order), but they are pretty much all there.

There are also chords listed on that page but I am not all that sure how accurate they are (at least to Brady's performance). When I have had the time to sit down and look harder, I wll let you know more.

Floyd

Gaje Man said...

"WEARIN THE BRITCHES"

O come all young men where e'er you be and listen to me lamentations
I courted a girl beyond compare and I loved her with admiration
At length in time she became my wife, t'was not for beauty but for riches
And all the time it causes strife, to see which of us will wear the britches

O Paddy Kane it is me name, me height it is five-foot-eleven
And me wife is nearly not so big, she only measures four-foot-seven
The hedges I have oft times stripped, I've left them bare of rods and switches
And her skin that's fair sure I've turned black, but still she swears she'll wear me britches

Well I am a tailor to me trade, at cutting out I am quite handy
But sure all the money that I make, she lays it out on tea and brandy
Now sometimes I do shout and ball with nothing going but rogues and witches
Her head goes oft times to the wall, but still she swears she'll wear me britches

One morning at the tea and eggs, contented sitting by the fire
Well she broke the teapot on me legs and left me leaping to retire
T'is now that I do shout and moan as I go hopping on me crutches
Well I wished I'd broke her collar bone the day I let her wear me britches

So come all young men where e'er you be, don't marry a wife if she's enchanting
For if you do, you'll be like me, with other men she'll go gallanting
Now my advice it is to you, to marry for love and work for riches
And be sure of a wife with a civil tongue, that'll give you leave to wear your britches