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The Wounded Corporal​/​Hag at the Churn

from Knocking the Windowpane by The Residuals

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    The CD version of the Residual's album, Knocking the Windowpane. At this time, if you wish to download the entire album, you must purchase a CD copy.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Knocking the Windowpane via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Stored in a quaint "jewel-case", this so-called "compact disc" will amuse your friends with its obsolescence. This historical oddity arrives pre-opened so you don't have to struggle with shrink wrap, and is signed on the inside cover by the entire band using their actual names. If a band member signs with an alias, your money will be speedily refunded. Banish worries of buyer's remorse and purchase, purchase, PURCHASE!

    Includes unlimited streaming of Knocking the Windowpane via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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  • Streaming + Download

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lyrics

Oh my name is Alan Ryan. I'm a corporal by trade.
In mountains rough and meadows fair my sleeping bag I've laid.
But tonight I lie a'wounded, laid upon this bloody plain,
And I fear that I may drift away and ne'er awake again.

(Chorus)
Come, you surgeons to the field! Come attend me every one!
Come and save the wounded corporal who's dying with his gun.

Yesterday we spent at marching and then we marched all night.
Fainting, hungry, lame and sore we joined that damned fight.
While we stepped among the wounded we joined our battle line.
The cry came out, "Charge bayonets!" upon the captain's sign.

We set out across the field marching closely side by side
When a roundshot dropped out of the sky and Captain Williams died.
They pelted us with volleys and I saw the colours fall.
As my comrades fell into a rout I took a musket ball.

(Chorus)

Private White, he lies beside me. He's been screaming through the night
A ball has drilled him through the gut. He won't live to see daylight.
My own wound is a'bleeding. The grass is soaked in blood.
It stains my trousers sickly red and churns the earth to mud.

There are rascals on the field, here to plunder and to glean.
I pleaded vainly for their help, they picked my pockets clean.
My leg has lost all feeling from my lifeblood's steady drain
And I fear that I may drift away and ne'er awake again.

(Chorus)

Private White has stopped his screaming, now he's lying cold and still.
And death will take me soon enough upon the morning's chill.
So a farewell to my comrades, farewell to army life.
The angels call the reveille with bugle, drum and fife.

Oh a farewell to my mother. All my love I send to thee.
And adieu as well to my old dad and younger brothers three.
And likewise to my true love who I ne'er shall see again.
In battle I have bravely fought. For bloody England I am slain.

credits

from Knocking the Windowpane, released August 17, 2012
Jeremy A. Cook/traditional
Lead vocal & fiddle: Jeremy A. Cook
Whistle: Meaghan Haughian
Bodhrán: Ted Leighton
Six-string guitar: Rick Kroener
Bouzouki: Rob McInnis

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about

The Residuals Saskatoon, Saskatchewan

Saskatchewan's one-of-a-kind Prairie Celtic band, the Residuals, has been playing acoustic folk music for over ten years. Drawing on Irish, Scottish, and Maritime music, they are at the forefront of a living Prairie Celtic tradition.

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