Come, Come My Friends
John Barleycorn
The Bird in the Bush
The Three Ravens
Fair Maid of Australia
Winter Man (Chris Leslie)
New Year (Jehanne Mehta)
The Month of January
Cupid's Garden
The Brokendown Gentleman
Love in June
Lymington Round & Round
The Spotted Cow
Washing Day
George Collins
The Rolling of The Stones
Here is My Home (Si Kahn)

CD now available on Fallen Angle Music

Lymington Round & Round
(Rick Keeling © Barbara Keeling)
Ian - English Concertina
James - Cittern

For me this song is all about an old home and how it
relates to a new home. Lymington, Hampshire, was
where I used to go shopping on a Saturday morning
while living in the heart of the New Forest. It is a thriving community built around holidays, boats and a ferry
terminal to The Isle of Wight. This is much like where
I now live in Woods Hole, Massachusetts: holidaymakers,
boats and a ferry to an island that you can sometimes
see. I remember with great affection hearing the late
Rick Keeling sing this song at the Cutty Wren Folk Club
in Hythe, Hampshire when I first started singing solo
in public so many years ago, and I thank his wife Barbara
for permission to record the song.

The Song

Lymington harbour, the yachts & the boat yards,
The ropes & the sails & the cobblestone quay.
And those millionaire sailors, boys in their dinghies,
All edging their way past the sand to the sea,
Everyone's going but me.

But if you can see the island,
They say it will rain before dark.
I suppose it could be, but it seems to me,
You don't need to look that far.

Lymington High Street on Saturday morning,
The hustle, the bustle, the gay repartee.
And those bric-a-brac stalls with their bargains & offers,
The masts are a dream way out to the sea, everyone's laughing but me.

Lymington High Street, the bow fronted windows,
The bookshops, the chain stores, the cream cakes & tea.
And those ladies that dress in the latest of fashion,
There's boots & sou'westers still wet from the sea,
Everyone's going but me.

Lymington pavements are cold in December,
And only a few leave the chair by the fire.
And the last time I saw you on Lymington Station,
You didn't have time to wave me goodbye,
Everyone's saying goodbye.