Home | | What's New | Contact Us

Band 2, Item 1
Round to Maryanne's
Kenneth Atwood, vocal.
Recorded 1976 at Smithsonian Institution Festival of American Folklife, Washington, D.C.

"Round to Maryinne's" is a grown-up song that children like. It pokes fun at policemen who ignore obvious infringements of the law, at the mock heroism of sea captains, and at the "bravery" of generals in battle. It is the kind of song that your favorite uncle would always sing after Thanksgiving dinner, while your mother would object, "Not in front of the children." (Such songs are often those that children remember with the greatest affection.) Its humorous advocacy of the workingman'a right to license is sure to appeal to young boys in search of a manly role model. Maryanne's is an Irish alehouse. The song probably stems from the period of the nineteenth century when the potato famines in Ireland drove many farmers from their homes to seek a livelihood in America. As a result of the influx of poor Irish competing for work, many songs were written from the fifties to the nineties both for and against the Irish, and the Irish policeman and the Irish biddy joined the ranks of American ethnic stereotypes (80265-2, Don't Give the Name a Bad Place: Types and Stereotypes in American Musical Theater—1870- 1900). Kenneth Atwood is a lumberman who has worked most of his life in Utah. His repertoire reflects his identification with the American workingman. His original song "The Turkey Trail" tells of a wagon-busting, man-challenging trail littered with boulders strewn as thickly as hailstones, an image reminiscent of the Paul Bunyan tales. Other songs of his tell of the rigors of farm life or detail a hardened sailor's advice to a green sailor boy. Atwood learned "Round to Maryanne's" from a cousin.

Sunday night in your town,
Sunday night in ours,
Nothing to do on the outside, nothing
to do indoors.
They even shut the movies, soon
as it is dark;
They drive the people off the
streets, and then they lock the
park.
But there's one place you can
always find to go,
And as soon as the drugstore
closes, you will hear somebody
say:
Chorus
"Let's all go around to
Maryanne's
And pick 'em a tune upon the
pianola!
There's something nice, it's
always on the ice,
And you don't have to ask her
twice
For a drink of Coca-Cola.
Her front-door key's always in
the lock,
The door is standing open, and you
never have to knock,
For Mary is Irish, and so is the
cop that beats it around the
block,
So you'll never go home till morning.
You're round to
Maryanne's !"
Terrible thunder and lightning and
storm from out the sky,
The good ship Helen Blaise is just
struck on the rock.
One-half of the passengers lost
their lives,
And the first mate lost his sock.
Well, then the captain cried, "It's
up to you!"
And then the second assistant
cook says, "I know what let's
do:
(Chorus)
Cannonballs was flying, the fight
was almost won,
Millions of people were dying,
they had no place to run.
The general, he's the byros [sic],
the pride of Mexico,
Was digging a hole to China, there
or some other place to go.
And as he dropped his spade to
take a rest,
The captain fell off from a bucking
mule and cried, "Well, I suggest:
(Chorus)