SLIP JIGS AND REELS by Steve Tilson
Based on an old photograph, this song tells a Billy the Kid kind of story of an Irish immigrant who turns gunfighter and meets his fate in Santa Fe.
Recorded by Claire Mann and Aaron Jones, track#9
He was barely a man, in his grandfather's coat
Sewn into the lining was a ten shilling note
Goodbye to my family, goodbye to the shore
‘Til I find good fortune, I’ll see you no more
A boat on the ocean tossed up like a cork
Then one fine morning he sighted New York
He stood on the gangplank and breathed in the air
Hello Land of Plenty I have come for me share
And he did like the ladies, the rise and the fall
Of their ankles and their dresses down on the dance floor
The roll of the dice, the spin of the wheel
But he took most delight in the slip jigs and reels
There's talk of a pistol and some say a knife
But all are agreed there was somebody's wife
Some kind of commotion, a terrible fight
He left one man dead and ran into the night
On a train to St. Louis, just one jump ahead
He slept one eye open, six gun by his head
And he dreamed of the mountains and the green fields of home
While crossing the plains where the buffaloes roam
Oh a bad reputation is a hard thing to bear
For mothers pour scorn and young children they stare
So he took consolation in flash company
For life ain't too bad with a girl on your knee
They called him the Kid and by twenty one
All that he knew was the power of his gun
And by twenty three he’d shot five men down
That got in his way as he rambled around
Now there’s bones in the desert and buzzards that fly
In the highest of circles just hoping he'll die
But in matters of cruelty now it must be said
The landlord will pick your bones before you're dead
It was wild Mescaleros I heard people say
‘Twas the deadliest ambush near old Santa Fe
And a young buck was taken, dressed up in a coat
Sewn into the lining was a ten shilling note