Country Life

For the final Sunday song of the year, Rob leads us in a popular chorus;

"Fantastic chorus song, everbody seems to know it, even when they don't. Like so many songs, its origins are suitably obscure, but if anyone is interested, here's a good place to start looking: http://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=47543.
I learned it originally from Mike Waterson, as, I suspect, did most people, though the recorded Watersons' version on "For Pence and Spicy Ale" only has verses 1 and 4 (plus chorus).

The "layland" (or leyland, or lealand, or laylum) upon which the small birds merrily sing, is probably meadowland, or land laid down for pasture, though again there are plenty of different theories. I think "laylum" is an especially interesting word, as I had always just thought of it as a nonsense word which I know from the refrain from one version of The Derby Ram, but apparently it could mean "branch" or possibly "chorus" and much else besides. Incidentally, there are one or two parodies around:

"....And a pox on the life of a country boy

Who's allergic to the new-mown hay."

This is a great 'year round' song to end the Sunday Song blog year with, and fitting too; most of the songs posted on the blog through the year have been perfomed by just one or two musicians, whereas this recording gives a flavour of what those Sunday evenings in the Star are like when we all really get going. Many thanks to Tim for recording the songs and taking the time to run the website, and thanks also to Paul, our host at the Star who has put up with so much from us over the last 12 months."Rob
Ch:
I like to rise when the sun she rises,
early in the morning
And I like to hear them small birds singing,
Merrily upon their layland
And hurrah for the life of a country boy,
And to ramble in the new mown hay.In spring we sow at the harvest mow
And that is how the seasons round they go
but of all the times choose I may
To be rambling in the new mown hay.

Ch:

In summer when the summer is hot
We sing, and we dance, and we drink a lot
We spend all our nights in sport and play
And go rambling in the new mown hay

Ch:

In autumn when the oak trees turn
We gather all the wood that's fit to burn
We slash and we stash and we stow away
And go rambling in the new mown hay

Ch:


In winter when the skies are gray
we hedge and we ditch our time away,
and dream of the summer when the sun shines gay,
And we ramble in the new mown hay.

Ch:


Oh Nancy is my darling, she's so gay
She blooms like the flowers every day
But I love her best in the month of May
When we're rambling through the new mown hay

Ch: