Day 22: The Robber's Song (Abe Carman)
Song Information
Another song from the The Transports, this time a song from the absolute rascal Abe Carman. At this point in the story, our protagonist Henry Cable is about to go on a mission to rob the houses of the upper class, with Abe being the leader of that little trip.
In the original LP this was sung by A.L. Lloyd, and in the 40th Anniversary revival was sung by David Eagle from The Young'uns. Bellamy himself rewrote the song for the 1983 performance at Queen Elizabeth Hall because the original was “too lighthearted” and subsequently recorded that for his final album of non-Kipling material Second Wind.
People may take issue with rhyming “Carman” with “Alarming”, but those people obviously don't know how to have any fun. Besides, rhyming “harm in” is a much better crime - I've a great fondness for a rhyme appearing across the line like that.
This is currently in the setlist for my Ceilidh Band Bellamira. I've long held the opinion that a significant proportion of Bellamy's material would work for people to dance to, and so far I'm 4 for 4:
- The first we ever did was Heffle Cuckoo Fair (which we pair with John Spier's excellent tune Jiggerypokerwork)
- The second was Claudy Banks from The Young Tradition days, which we now pair with Rochdale Coconut Dance
- We then added Song of the Red War boat (with the choruses taken out to make it fit a standard 32 bar length dance), which we pair with Kevin O'Neill's tune Superfly.
- This is the most recent addition, which is paired with Tripping O'er The Bogs by John McSherry
I'm sure that I'll add more over the coming years!
Listen to the Song
Lyrics
My name it is Abe Carman,
You may find me alarming
If you think that there be harm
In the trade of burglary;
I live by taking chances
Like heroes of romances
And taking what I fancies
From those wealthier than me!
Yes, there’s goods all for the taking
And there is no mistaking,
There is little you’ll be making
On the straight and narrow path;
Like toiling for the masters
And bowing to the pastors,
Those cruel heartless bastards
Who would see a poor man starve!
Old companions, I have seen ’em
Cast off all thought of freedom
As their wives and babies need ’em
And the bread for which they slave;
So their pride they learn to humble,
Being never heard to grumble
But before I take that tumble
You will find me in my grave!
Some they goes to be a soldier
With the muskets on their shoulder,
But they never grows no older
Once the generals ride to war;
And the lads who plough the ocean
Wish they’d never thought the notion
When commanders seek promotion
On a tide of sailors’ gore!
But let those who will bow under,
Like a maid who hides from thunder,
But as long as I can plunder
I will steer my course alone;
No wife shall ever mould me,
No tyrant shall control me.
No bridewell door will hold me
And my soul will be my own!
So when the night come a-falling
I tend unto my calling,
You will never find me crawling
To the lofty genteree;
With me pistols on the high road,
With me cudgels in the by-road,
Every road is my road
When I walk it strong and free!
While I’ve got a mate to hold a candle
And an iron to break a handle
And a boy to spy the land then
I will rob both great and small;
Till me luck it do forsake me
On the day when they do take me
And on the gallows break me
And that’ll pay for all!