Would you like to swing on star?
Carry moonbeams home in a jar,
And be better off than you are?
Or would you rather be a mule?

A mule is an animal with long funny ears,
He kicks up at anything he hears.
His back is brawny but his brain is weak,
He's just plain stupid with a stubborn streak.
And by the way if you hate to go to school,
You may grow up to be a mule.

Or would you like to swing on star?
Carry moonbeams home in a jar,
And be better off than you are?
Or would you rather be a pig?

A pig is an animal with dirt on his face,
His shoes are an absolute disgrace.
He has no manners when he eats his food,
He's fat and lazy and extremely rude.
But if you don't care a feather or a fig,
You may grow up to be a pig.

Or would you like to swing on star?
Carry moonbeams home in a jar,
And be better off than you are?
Or would you rather be a fish?

A fish won't do anything but swim in a brook,
He can't write his name or read a book.
To fool the people is his only thought,
And though he's slippery, he still gets caught.
But then if that sort of life is what you wish,
you may grow up to be a fish.

And all the monkeys aren't in the zoo,
Everyday you meet quite a few.
So you see it's all up to you,
You could be better than you are,
You could be swinging on a star.

 

Danny Boy

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
Tis you, tis you must go and I must bide

But come you back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
Yes I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
And ye will kneel and tell me that ye love me
And I shall rest in peace until ye come to me

 

Star of the County Down

Near Banbridge town, in the County Down,
One morning in July;
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen,
And she smiled as she passed me by.

She looked so sweet from her snow white feet,
To the sheen of her nut-brown hair.
Such a coaxing elf, I'd to shake myself,
To make sure I was standing there.

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay,
And from Galway to Dublin town .
No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen,
That I met in the County Down. (x2)

As she onward sped I shook my head,
And I gazed with a feeling rare.
And I said, says I, to a passerby,
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
He smiled at me, and with pride says he,
"That's the gem of Ireland's crown.
She's young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann
She's the star of the County Down."

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay
And from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen
That I met in the County Down. (x2)

I've travelled a bit, but never was hit
Since my roving career began
But fair and square I surrendered there
To the charms of young Rose McCann.
I'd a heart to let and no tenant yet
Did I meet with in shawl or gown
But in she went and I asked no rent
From the star of the County Down.

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay
And from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen
That I met in the County Down.

At the crossroads fair I'll be surely there
And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
And I'll try sheep's eyes, and deludhering lies
On the heart of the nut-brown rose.
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke
Though with rust my plow turns brown
Till a smiling bride by my own fireside
Sits the star of the County Down.

From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay
And from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen
That I met in the County Down.

On Top of Spaghetti

On top of spaghetti,
All covered with cheese,
I lost my poor meatball,
When somebody sneezed.

It rolled off the table,
And onto the floor,
And then my poor meatball,
Rolled right out the door.

It rolled down the garden,
And under a bush,
And then my poor meatball,
Was nothing but mush.

The mush was as tasty
As tasty could be,
And early next summer,
Grew into a tree.

The tree was all covered,
With beautiful moss,
And on it grew meatballs,
Covered with sauce.

So if you eat spaghetti,
All covered with cheese,
Hold on to your meatballs,
Whenever you sneeze.

If I were a Rich Man

If I were a rich man,
yabba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum,
All day long I'd bitty, bitty bum,
If I were a wealthy man.

I wouldn't have to work hard,
yabba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum,
If I were a bitty, bitty rich
Idle diddle yeidle deidle man.

I'd build a big, tall house with rooms by the dozen,
Right in the middle of the town,
A fine tin roof with a real wooden floor below,
There would be one long staircase just going up,
and one even longer going down,
and one more leading nowhere just for show.

I'd fill my yard with a-chicks and a-turkeys and geese,
And ducks for the town to see and hear
Each squawking just as noisily as they can,
And each "Gaa, gaa, gee, gee, goo, goo, gaa, gaa"
Will sound like a trumpet to their ears
As if to say here lives a wealthy man.

....Big sigh....

If I were a rich man,
yabba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum,
All day long I'd bitty, bitty bum,
If I were a wealthy man.

I wouldn't have to work hard,
yabba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum,
If I were a bitty, bitty rich
Idle diddle yeidle deidle man.

I'd see my wife, my Golda, looking like a rich man's wife
With a proper double chin,
Supervising meals to her hearts delight.
I'd see her putting on airs and strutting like a peacock,
Ooh, what a happy mood she's in
Screaming at the servants day and night.
"Weewahah, oohwahhah!"

The most important men in town will come to lean on me,
They will ask me to advise them,
Like a Solomon the Wise.
"If you please, Rev Tevye"
"Pardon Me, Rev Tevye"
Posing problems that would cross a Rabbi's eyes
Yada Deedadah, Yadidadah, Yadidadah,
Dum, Dum ,Dum

And it won't make one bit of difference
If I answer right or wrong
When you're rich they think you really know

If I were rich I would have the time that I lack
To sit in the synagogue and pray
And maybe have a seat by the eastern wall,
And I'd discuss the holy books with the learned
Men seven hours every day,
And that would be the sweetest thing of all.

If I were a rich man,
yabba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum,
All day I['d bitty bitty bum,
If I were a wealthy man.

Wouldn't have to work hard
Lord who made the lion and the lamb,
You decreed I should be what I am,
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan,
If I were a wealthy man?

 

Do Your Ears Hang Low?

Do your ears hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie them in a knot?
Can you tie them in a bow?
Can you throw them o'er your shoulder
Like a Regimental Soldier?
Do your ears hang low?

Do your ears hang high?
Do they reach up to the sky?
Do they wrinkle when they're wet?
Do they straighten when they're dry?
Can you wave them at your neighbor
With an element of flavor?
Do your ears hang high?

 

The Gypsy Rover

The gypsy rover came over the hill,
Down through the valley so shady.
He whistled and he sang till the green woods rang,
And he won the heart of a lady.

Ah-di-do, ah-di-do da day,
Ah-di-do, ah-di day-di,
He whistled and he sang till the green woods rang,
And he won the heart of a lady.

She left her father's castle gate,
She left her own true lover,
She left her servants and her estate,
To follow the Gypsy Rover.

Ah-di-do, ah-di-do da day,
Ah-di-do, ah-di day-di,
He whistled and he sang till the green woods rang,
And he won the heart of a lady.

Her father saddled his fastest steed,
Roamed the valley all over,
Sought his daughter at great speed,
And the whistling Gypsy Rover.

Ah-di-do, ah-di-do da day,
Ah-di-do, ah-di day-di,
He whistled and he sang till the green woods rang,
And he won the heart of a lady.

He came at last to a mansion fine,
Down by the river Claydee,
And there was music and there was wine
For the Gypsy and his lady.

Ah-di-do, ah-di-do da day,
Ah-di-do, ah-di day-di,
He whistled and he sang till the green woods rang,
And he won the heart of a lady.

"He's no gypsy, my father," she said,
"But lord of the freelands all over,
And I will stay till my dying day
With my whistling Gypsy Rover.

Ah-di-do, ah-di-do da day,
Ah-di-do, ah-di day-di,
He whistled and he sang till the green woods rang,
And he won the heart of a lady.

Molly Malone

In Dublin's fair city where the girls are so pretty,
I first laid my eyes on sweet Molly Malone.
She was wheeling her barrow through the streets broad and narrow,
crying "Cockles and Mussels, alive alive-o".

Alive, alive oh
Alive, alive oh
Crying cockles and mussels
Alive, alive- o.

She was a fish monger, and sure, t'was no wonder,
for so were her mother and father before.
And they wheeled their wheelbarrows through the streets broad and narrow,
crying "Cockles and Mussels, alive alive oh".

Alive, alive oh,
Alive, alive oh,
Crying cockles and mussels,
Alive, alive -o.

She died of a fever and noone could save her,
and that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
Now her ghost may be followed through the streets broad and narrow,
crying " Cockles and Mussels, alive, alive-o"

Alive, alive-o,
Alive, alive-o,
Crying cockles and mussels,
alive, alive-o.

Down By the Station

I actually made this midi. You're welcome to use it elsewhere
but if you do, please just and tell me
where you've used it. Cheers.

Down by the station,
early in the morning.
See the little engines,
standing in a row.

See the engine driver,
pull the little lever.
Toot, Toot!
Choo, Choo,
Off we go!

 

 

Sakura

Sakura, Sakura
noyamamo satomo.
Miwatasu kagiri.
Kasumi-ka kumo-ka
asahi-ni niou
Sakura, Sakura
Hanazakari.

 

These are midi files that I have collected from the web for my daughter over the past couple of years. I have not made them. I have not taken them from any sites that claim copyright over them or claim to have made them. However, if you have made one of these files and object to me using them on these pages, please email me . Thanks.