Bardic 1

BEING THE FIRST SECTION OF THE ALPHABETIZED VERSION OF
THE BLACK BOOK OF LOCKSLEY
***************************************************************
ACUSHLA
-Ioseph of Locksley
(c) 1990 W.J. Bethancourt III
(Tune: "When You And I Were Young")
To Cherie Ruadh MhicRath of Locksley
I have wandered today to the hills, Acushla,

To watch the scene below
The pavilions and flags, and the songs, Acushla,
That we started long, long ago!
I see a true living Dream, Acushla,

The past come alive once again.
I see a life that we've made, Acushla,
Did we see this at all, when we began?
They say we have outlived our time, Acushla,

As dated as the songs we have sung;
But to me you're as fair as you were, Acushla,
When you and I were young!
I see the child that we raised, Acushla,

In the Lists for his fair Lady Maid;
He will sit on a Throne someday soon, Acushla,
With eyes shining and unafraid!
Through hard times and good times and sad, Acushla,

We stood by the Dream that we knew;
And we did the best that we could, Acushla,
And watched as that little Dream grew!
They say we have outlived our time, Acushla,

As dated as the songs we have sung;
But to me you're as fair as you were, Acushla,
When the SCA was young!
and fondly dedicated, also, to Count Sir Stephan of Bellatrix!

ya did good, kiddo!
#2
THE AGINCOURT CAROLE

-Traditional
(rendered to modern English by Ioseph of Locksley)
Our king went forth to Normandy

With grace and might of chivalry
There God for him wrought marvelously
Wherefore England may call and cry: Deo gratias:
Deo gratias Anglia redde pro victoria!
He set a siege, the truth to say

To Harfleur town with royal array;
That town he won, and made a fray
That France shall rue til Doom(e)sday. Deo gratias....
Then went our king with all his host

Through France, for all the Frenchmen's boast;
He spared no dread of least nor most
Til he came to Agincourt coast. Deo gratias....
Then, forsooth, that knight comely,

In Agincourt field he fought manly;
Through grace of God most mighty
He had both field and victory. Deo gratias....
There duke and earl, lord and baron

Were taken and slain, and that well soon,
And some were led into London
With joy and mirth and great renown: Deo gratias....
May gracious God He keep our king,

His people that are well willing
And give him grace without ending
Then we may call and safely sing: Deo gratias....
Note: This may also be sung to "The Banana Boat

Song" as:
Our king went forth to Normandy

Deo gratias Anglia!
With grace and might of chivalry
Deo gratias Anglia!
There God for him wrought marvelously
Deo gratias Anglia!
Wherefore England may call and cry:
Deo gratias Anglia!
CHORUS: Deo! Deo! Deo gratias Anglia!
...but beware, you might seriously offend the

Authenticity Police......heheheheh!
*
#3
A GRAZING MACE
-Anonymous
tune: "Amazing Grace"
verses 1-5 by Skald-Brandr Toralfsson
verse 6 is the original anonymous creation
verse 7 from the HOPSFA Hymnal 3rd Edition
A grazing mace, how sweet the sound, that felled my foe for me
I bashed his head, he struck the ground, and thus came victory
My mace has taught my foes to fear, that mace my fear relieved

How precious did my mace appear, when I my mace received
Through many tourneys wars and fairs, I have already come

My mace has brought me safe thus far, my mace will bring me home
The King has promised good to me, his word my hope secures
I will his shield and weapon be, when he gives me my spurs
And when my mace my foeman nails, that mortal strife shall cease
And we'll possess within our pale, a life of joy and peace
A grazing mace, how sweet the sound that flattened a wretch like thee!
whose head is flat, that once was round; done in by my mace....and me!
A grazing mace, how sweet the sound that smites a foe like thee
You're left there lying on the ground, you've left the field to me!
*
#4
THE ALCOHOLIC'S ANTHEM

-Christchurch NZ University Revue
tune: "Men Of Harlech"
What's the use of drinking tea

indulging in sobriety?
(and) tee-total perversity?
It's healthier to booze!
What's the use of milk and water?
these are drinks that never oughter
be allowed in any quarter
Come on, lose your Blues!
Mix yourself a Shandy!
Drown yourself in brandy!
A Sherry sweet, a Whiskey neat,
or any kind of likker that is handy!
There's no blinking sense in drinking
any thing that doesn't make you stinking
There's no happiness like sinking
blotto to the floor!
Put an end to all frustration

drinking may be your salvation
end it all in dissapation
rotten to the core!
Abberations metabolic
Ceilings that are hyperbolic
these are for the Alcoholic
lying on the floor!
Vodka for the arty
Gin, to make you hearty!
Lemonade was only made
for drinking if your mother's at the party!
So stay clear of home-made beer
and anything that isn't labeled "clear"
There is nothing else to fear!
Bottoms up, my boys!
*
#5
ALL AROUND MY HAT

-Traditional
CHORUS: All around my hat, I will wear the green willow

And all around my hat, for a twelve-month and a day!
And if any one will ask me the reason why I'm wearin' it
It's all for my true love who is far, far away!
Fare thee well, cold Winter, and fare thee well cold Frost
It's nothing I have gained but my own true love I've lost
I'll sing and I'll be merry, when occasion I do see
She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be!
My love she was fair, and my love she was kind, too
And many were the happy hours between my love and me
I never could refuse her, whatever she'd a mind to
The other night I brought her a fine diamond ring

But she tried to deprive me of a far better thing
I never could refuse her, whatever she'd a mind to
Will my love be true, and will my love be faithful?

Will she find another young man, to court her when I'm gone?
The men will all come court her, so pretty and so graceful
It's a quarter pound of Reason, and a half a pound of Sense

A small sprig of Time, and as much of Prudence,
You mix them all together, and you will plainly see
(Note: This version is a composite of lyrics sung by Steeleye Span

and those found in "Folksongs And Ballads of Ireland" Vol. 2,
from Ossian Publications.
*
#6
ALL THRU THE NIGHT
While the Moon her watch is keeping

all thru the night
While the weary world is sleeping
all thru the night
O'er thy spirit gently stealing,
Visions of delight revealing
Breathes a pure and holy feeling
all thru the night
Though this Bard must roam full lonely

My true harp shall sing praise only
Love's soft dream, alas, is over
Yet my strains of love shall hover
Near the Presence of my Lover
Hark! A solemn bell is ringing

Thou, my King are heavenward winging
Earthly dust from off Thee shaken
Soul immortal shalt thou waken
With thy last, dim journey taken
Neath this Stone my King is sleeping

Stars around Him softly sweeping
Once and Future King preserving
Britain's Saviour there reserving
All around him Stars observing
all thru the night
Holl am ran-tire sehr thuh wed-ont

ahr heed ah nos
Dum-ar forth ee vro go-gawn-yont
ahr heed ah nos
Gol-i ar-all you tuh wull ooch
ee are thang os gweer bred vairtch-ooch
tie-leer nave oith m'yoon thu-wail-ooch
ahr heed ah nos
note: The last verse is phonetic Welsh.

"ll" is pronounced by putting the tip of your
tongue to the roof of your mouth, and saying "h"
and "l" at the same time...sort of.
"ch" is pronounced as German.
*
#7
THE ANACHRONISTIC LOVER

Author unknown (orig. SCA East Kingdom?)
(tune: "The Frozen Logger")
As I sat down one evening he'd just drive them in with a war-mace
'twas in a wayside Inn and then bite them off inside
a forty year old barmaid came
and whispered by my chin He never shaved a whisker
until his helm was full
I see that you're an Anachronist and the device upon his shield
and not just some modern jerk bespoke a wild bull
for no one but an Anachronist
stirs coffee with a Dirk He vowed to me one evening
no maidens were my peers
I once loved an Anachronist he went off to prove his point
there's none like him today and he's been gone TEN YEARS...!
he kissed me in a haystack once
and burned up all the hay and so I lost my lover
and in this Inn I work
he never shaved a whisker and sit and wait for someone
from off his horny hide to stir coffee with a Dirk....
*
#8
ANNA THEA
-Anonymous (PD)
tune: Lydia Wood
recorded by Judy Collins
Lazlo Thea stole a stallion

Stole him from the Misty Mountain
And they chased him, and they caught him
And in iron chains they bound him.
Word was brought to Anna Thea

That her brother was in prison
"Give me gold and six white horses
I will buy my brother's freedom."
"Judge, Oh Judge please spare my brother

I will give you gold and silver!"
"I don't want your gold and silver;
All I want are your sweet favours!"
"Anna Thea, Oh my sister!

Are you mad with grief and sorrow?
He will rob you of your Flower,
And he'll hang me from the gallows!"
Anna Thea did not heed him;

Straightway to the Judge went running.
In his golden bed, at midnight,
There she heard the gallows groaning!
Cursed be that Judge so cruel!

Thirteen years shall he lie bleeding!
Thirteen doctors shall not heal him!
Thirteen shelves of drugs won't save him!
Anna Thea, Anna Thea!

Don't go out into the forest!
There, among the green pines standing,
You will find your brother....hanging.
*
#9
*
THE ATENVELDT INVASION

-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "Young Folks, Old Folks")
(c) 1991 W.J.Bethancourt III
CHORUS: Young folks, old folks, every man and each

Come see the Atenveldter, landed on the beach!
He's not wearing any clothes, and covered all with hair
And worse than that, he isn't wearing any underwear!
Once upon a time, in a Kingdom far away

A ship was wrecked in Calafia's bay
It sank right down, men and mast and sail
And only the ship's monkey lived to tell the tale!
The monkey came ashore and wandered all around

Wandered thru the valleys, wandered thru the town
Then it came to a revel hall more dead than alive
And the Caidan's thought an invasion had arrived!
CHORUS
The crowd screamed and scrambled, caught by surprise

Climbing the curtains, putting pillows o'er their eyes
Cried a willowy Laurel, with a cry that was heart-felt:
"He's big and strong and hairy, he must be from Atenveldt!"
"He's not wearing any clothes, whatever can it mean?"

"It's the rudest thing that I have ever seen!"
A Duchess said to the Kingdom Castellan:
"You can tell he's not Caidan: No Elizabeth-i-ans!" //Humpf!//
CHORUS
The whole crowd was terrified, petrified with fear,

That the Atenveldt invasion finally was here.
"God help the Kingdom!" "Save us from this fate!"
"Run away and hide ourselves before it is too late!"
The monkey saw the revel feast and jumped for the food
With no table manners; he was really rather rude!
The crowd gasped with horror at the awful sight:
"He eats with both hands! He's an Atenveldter Knight!"
CHORUS
The monkey ambled 'round, all tired, stiff and sore;

All the Caidans scrambled for the door!
The politics got heavy and the rumor spread around
"The Atenveldter's gonna be a-fighting for the Crown!"
But then the revel hall got quiet as could be

When up cried the Seneshal, "Can't you plainly see?"
"Hide your wives and daughters and prepare for fire and sword!"
"It's not an Atenveldter, it's a member of the Horde!" //Eek!//
CHORUS (twice)
*
#10
ATEN MAN
-Ioseph of Locksley
(c) copyright 1991 W.J.Bethancourt III
(Tune: "Irish Soldier Laddie")
CHORUS: Will you stand in the van like a true Aten man
And hold the line for Kingdom and for Crown?
Will you fight and never yield on Estrella's battlefield?
For today's the day we're takin' Caid down!
As I stood in a crowd I saw a valiant laddie walkin'

With his armour and his sword down a quiet country lane
He smiled and he waved and he bespoke me truly
He beckoned and he called to me by name:
On a quiet village street stood a bowman strong and hearty

As he bade a fond farewell to his pretty peasant lass
And his eyes were flashin' bright as he bent his head and kissed her
And these words he said beneath the partin' glass:
Came a knight upon his steed, with his squires ridin' after
With his pennon and his lance and his shinin' silver mail
With his Lady's Favour hangin' from his belt of leather
And passin' close he smiled and bade me "Hail!"
In a sunny castle hall, with her minstrels and her maidens,

Stood a Lady, strong and proud, with a fire in her eyes
"If my King is off to war, what can I but fight beside him?"
She raised her sword, and shouted to the skies:
From city and from township, from Barony and Marches

Come the men of Aten's land with a fire in their eyes
Atenveldt and Ysgithr, Mons Tinitrus and SunDragon,
And a hundred thousand others 'neath the sky!
*
#11
ATENVELDT
-Ioseph of Locksley
(c) copyright 1974, 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III
(Tune: "The West's Awake"
For all the Lands where I have dwelt

Oh Atenveldt, Oh Atenveldt
till rivers burn and mountains melt
lest I forget my Atenveldt
From deserts stark to snow-capped peaks
from silent lakes and laughing creeks
sing: Oh let man find his heart's ease
on rocky plains
in desert breeze
For oft I thought of mighty men

who carved a Land with sword and pen
and lit a candle, burning bright,
that pierced the darkness; stirred the night!
tho some are gone their deeds remain
this sunny Crown without a stain
sing: Oh, their deeds were not in vain!
in sunlit days
and falling rain.....
So raise your banners, blazoned bright

Advance the Dream and Shine the Light!
in battle's crash and Revel's song
raise high the Flag and wave it long!
For all the Lands wherein I've dwelt
I love you best, my Atenveldt!
Sing: Oh the Joy that I have felt!
My Atenveldt
My Atenveldt
*
#12
THE BALLAD OF THE THREE KINGS

-Sir Bela of Eastmarch
copyright 1980 Poul Anderson
Three Kings rode out on the road to Hell

ravens flew on the gale
the night wind rang like an iron bell
and hissed with sleet and hail
three Kings rode out thru the Gates of Hell
and on to Death's Highway
the King of the Britons
the King of the Huns
and the King of Nor-o-way!
And the King of the Britons was helmed with gold

and rode a stallion white
"Oh all men go when they are cold
but I go not in fright!
A goodly King who loved his Folk
and guarded them with the rod....
and stake...and gallows....against themselves
will surely go to God!"
And the King of the Huns was helmed in steel

and rode a stallion red
"Oh fiercely proud my fathers feel
of me, who crowned my head
halfway round a world in pain,
which I did mightily win
and surely I go to my Father's Fane
and not to the evil Djinn!"
And the King of Norway was helmed with wings

and rode a stallion grey
"Truly proud my heart now feels
Odin gets me today!
I died in bed, ah, but first I hung
full many a squealing thrall
from Odin's Tree. With Rune on tongue
I go now to Odin's Hall!"
Three Kings rode out thru the depths of Hell

with a bloody-breasted Hound
that howls above black rivers that run
icy beneath the ground
Three Kings a Final Judgement won
from the High God's lips that day:
The Devil took the Briton,
the Djinni took the Hun,
and Hell took Nor-o-way!
*
#13
THE BARD'S SONG

-Ioseph of Locksley
(c) copyright 1990 W. J. Bethancourt III
(Tune: "Dublin City")
As I walked out one quiet evening

At the hour of twelve at night
Who should I meet but a fair young maiden
Combin' her hair by candle light;
Lassie, I have come a-courtin'
Your kind favours for to win
And if you'd heed my petition
I would be your Paladin...
(CHORUS) Gather roses in the Springtime

Gather roses while ye may,
Time is passing; roses wither;
Winter comes; we're here -today-.
Have you seen the dew a-formin'

On the grass at early morn?
Have you seen the forest quiet,
Or a stag that's barely born?
Have you seen the dawn a-breakin'
O'er the Western Ocean's tide?
Have you felt my heart a-beatin'
When it's held close to your side?
I can give no gold or silver,

I can give no fields of land,
I can give no servants brisk
To wait on you both foot and hand;
I can give you wide roads callin'
Wind and Rain, and Moon and Sun,
Songs to sing, and love and laughter,
Dresses made of plain home-spun.
Come dance with me upon the greensward

in the moonlight, in the Spring.
Dance with me within the forest
Dance with me within the ring!
Earth below us, stars above us,
Fire and water by our side,
Dance with me within the moonlight,
Dance with me, and be my Bride!
*
#14
BEATIE, BEATIE, BEAT!

-Ioseph of Locksley
Gunwald advances, Johann retreats (3X)

but no one's going beatie beatie beat
(Chorus): Now they are going beatie beatie beat! (3X)

And which will be the last upon his feet?
Gunwald advances, Johann retreats

Johann advances, Gunwald retreats
Gunwald advances...Gunwald retreats?
But no one's going beatie beatie beat!
Now they are going beatie beatie beat! (3X)

And Johann's just so much dead meat!
(Written, off the cuff, as a sung description of a combat in Crown

Lists....written as it happened, while it happened.)
*
#15
*
BIG AXE
-Ragnar Morkwulf
-last two verses: Ioseph of Locksley
tune: "Big Iron" (Marty Robbins)
"Ghost Riders In The Sky"
To the land of Ansteorra sailed a Viking one fine day

He rowed right up the river to Bjornsberg, so they say
No one dared to ask the reason why he came into this land
For the Viking there among them had a Big Axe in his hand.
It was halfway to September when he swaggered into town

He came striding from the Southside, slowly looking all around
"He's a Viking out for plunder!" came the whisper from each man
"And he's here to do some mischief with that Big Axe in his hand!"
Now in this town there was a Norman, by the name of Jean-Eclair

He was foppish, and a dandy, and wore perfume in his hair!
But he was somewhat more than vicious with the rapier at his side
And the many men who faced him were the many men who died.
Now the Norman's skill at wenching was a scandal in the land

and a milkmaid (or a Duchess) were like putty in his hand
He would use them for his pleasure and then send them home in shame
And their menfolk greatly trembled at the mention of his name.
Now the Viking started talking, made it plain to folks around

That he'd come to wreak his vengance on the Norman in the town
Jean-Eclair had bed his sister, and no bride-price had he paid
And he'd sent her back to Norway slightly after she'd been laid....
The Norman merely chuckled when this story he did hear

He sharpened up his rapier - threw down another beer
Forty vengance-seeking brothers he had slain - unto the man!
forty-one would be this Viking with the Big Axe in his hand...
The morning passed by quickly, then 'twas time for them to meet
Wearing puffs and slashes, Jean-Eclair stood in the street
The Viking, dressed in leather, and with furs upon his frame
Was the object of the snobbish Norman's obvious disdain
"I remember now your sister," said the Norman with a smile
"You have similar taste in fashion, and no sense at all of style.
I would rather slay your tailor, but I'll kill you where you stand
You won't even have a chance to use that Big Axe in your hand!"
"I sailed all da vay vrom Norway," said the Viking with a sneer
"Not to enter fashion shows; for you would win, I fear.
I come here to find a dog, whose blood I vowed to spill
But it pleases me to see that you are dressed so - for to kill!"
Jean-Eclair glared at the Northman with a face turned scarlet-red

His honour would not let him rest till Viking blood was shed
Townsfolk watched them from the windows - everybody held their breath
They knew this tacky Viking was a hand away from Death.
(more)
16
Big Axe (Cont.)
The Norman started forward, shining Murder in his hand,

The Mistrels say the battle was the swiftest in the land
Rapier'd barely cleared it's scabbard when the Axe came crashing down
And the Norman toppled over, with the Big Axe for a Crown...
It was over in a moment, and the folks all gathered round

There before them lay the body of the Norman on the ground
He had planned to go on living - never thought of lying dead
But it's kinda hard to think when there's a Big Axe in your head!
But then the fop took off his hat, and grinned, and softly said
"Beneath these plumes I wear an iron cap upon my head!"
And with an evil grin he pulled a pistol with a sigh
And shot the great big Northman square between his beady eyes!
So remember all you armoured folk, and think upon it well:

There's lots of different ways to die; there's different ways to hell
You might be big and hairy, on the side of Truth and all
God makes Norsemen big and strong: Friar Bacon makes 'em small!
BORED IN THE SCA!

-various Marklanders
-tune: "Born in the USA"
BORED in the SCA!

Oh, I'm a LORD in the SCA!
I use "Prince Valiant" for historical sources!

I'm a knight, but where are the horses?!
Bright colors and panty hose!
Polyester from my head to my toes!
Oh, I am BORED in the SCA!

Yes, I am BORED in the SCA!
Over there's a Samurai, I think,

Must because of the fishy stink!
I'm a King in Fantasyland,
Don't fight with steel, I use bare rattan!
Oh, I am BORED in the SCA!

Joined the HORDE in the SCA!
Now I can rape and pillage and burn

Goon the jerks that never learn!
Looks like ( insert name of choice ) is here!
Hide the chickens, and dogs and beer!
I was BORED in the SCA!

I was BORED in the SCA!
*
#17
BOLD SIR ROBIN
-Monty Python
"Bravely bold Sir Robin

Brought forth from Camelot
He was not afraid to die
Brave, bold Sir Robin
He was not at all afraid
To be killed in nasty ways
Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin....
He was not in the least bit scared

To be mashed into a pulp
Or to have his eyes gouged out
And his elbows broken
To have his kneecaps split
And his body burned away
And his limbs all hacked and mangled
Brave Sir Robin.....
His head smashed in and his heart cut out

And his liver removed and his bowels unplugged
And his nostrils raped and his bottom burnt up
And his penis ....."
BUGS ON THE BARONESS

-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: Waltzing Matilda)
or: Who was that Vermin I saw you with last, Knight?
or: There may be Lice on all you Knice, but there ain't no Lice on me
Once there was a Barony howling in the wilderness

nestled in the Valley where the River doesn't flow
and the folks were driven buggy by the insects in the Revel Hall
Authenticity is wonderful, but this doesn't go!
Bugs on the Baroness, bugs on the Baroness!

That was the cry that you heard all the day
and the scratching can be heard from Ysgithr to Ered Sul
why did we come here? Let's go away!
See them all a scratching, nestled in their armour tight

the fleas have a melee team that's challenging the field!
call Truly Nolen! Someone's gotta help us out!
the crabs are nesting in our helms but we'll never yield!
(chorus)
Dawn comes a-breaking, the bugs have won the Coronet...

flea-infested Conan-clones in piles upon the lawn
where is the Barony? The bugs have eaten everyone...
termites got the stick-jocks, and all their sticks are gone!
(chorus)
*
#18
BURGUNDIAN CAROL
-Bernard La Monnonye (ca. 1650)
English translation by Oscar Brand
Dm E7 A
The Winter season of the year when to this world Our Lord was born
F C G7 C F Dm A7 Dm
The ox and donkey, so they say, did keep His Holy Presence warm.
A7 Dm A7 Dm C F A7 Dm A7 Dm Gm A7 Dm
How many oxen and donkeys, now, if they were there when first He came,
A7 Dm A7 Dm G A Dm Gm A7 Dm
How many oxen and donkeys you know, at such a time would do the same?
And on that night it has been told

These humble beasts so rough and rude,
Throughout the night of Holy Birth,
Drank no water, ate no food.
How many oxen and donkeys, now,
If they were there, when first He came,
How many oxen and donkeys you know
At such a time would do the same?
As soon as to these humble beasts

Appeared Our Lord, so mild and sweet,
With joy they knelt before His Grace,
And gently kissed his tiny feet.
How many oxen and donkeys now,
Dressed in ermine, silk and such,
How many oxen and donkeys you know
At such a time would do as much?
*
#19
A CALLING-ON SONG
recorded by Steeleye Span
"Below the Salt"
revised by Ioseph of Locksley
Good people, pray heed my petition

Your attention I beg and I crave
for if you are inclined for to listen
An abundance of pastime will have
I am come to relate many stories

Concerning our Forefather's Time
And I trust they will drive out your worries
Of this we are all in one mind
Many tales of the poor and the gentry

Of labour and love will arise
There are no finer songs in this country
In East, West or Middle likewise
There is one thing more needing mention

The dances are danced all in fun
So, now that you've heard my intention
I'll lay on to the beat of the Drum!
CAMBRIAN DREAM
-Gwydion PenDerwyn
copyright probably to Nemeton
In the mountains of Cambria, by Rhymney's bright stream

I have oft slept in heather, and dreamed a bright Dream
No mortal could wake me, nor see what I've seen
No landscape could ever compare.
'Twas the Land of my Fathers, unfettered, and free

Ere the time that the Saxon swept over the Sea
When mistletoe grew 'neath the shining Oak Tree
No landscape could ever compare!
(Chorus): Dreaming of Prydein, asleep on a hill

When I awaken, will you be there still?
Oh, Island of Poets, my dreams you can fill
But never the long waking hours.
Mighty Poets and Warriors traversed every road

Leaving stories and legends wherever they strode
Their pasts are recalled in the humblest abode
In tales of the sunnier days.
(Chorus)
Now my story is ended, my song is all gone

I have slept thru the evening, and into the dawn
Yet still, I remember your Face, Albion,
And your older, and much wiser ways!
(Chorus)
*
#20
THE CATAPULT SONG

tune: "Tramp Tramp Tramp"
-Zoltan Kovacs
-Heinrich Palantin
-Su of the Silver Horn
-Christobal degli Gilicine
Oh they thought it was a joke when my catapult it broke

And they said it would not fire beyond the wall
So the Captain came to look, and I pulled the trigger hook
And my catapult it caught him in the jaw!
Flip, flip, flip, my Captain's flying

High up o'er the Norman camp!
Well, he landed with a thump
and he crumpled in a lump
with his head between his knees upon a stump!
Yippee yea, my catapult's working

Yippee yea, we'll have a ball!
Oh we'll load it up again
with another Cap-i-tain
and we'll fire the bloody bastard o'er the wall!
*
#21
*
THE CAUSES OF REBELLION: LIE, LIE TO THE COUNCIL

-Astra of the Grey Shadows
copyright 1974 Ann Cass
orig. tune: "Retreat Along The Wabash"
a period tune has been written by Ioseph of Locksley
Tell the truth to a Lord you trust

MORE truth to a Lord you hate!
Lie to a Lady, if lie you must,
but since the Lords live far away
and will not heed what the people say:
Lie, Lie, Lie to the Council! Lie to the Heads of State!
Where the low hills sit by the foggy Bay

and the ground all shakes with fire
the High Lords sit in Council today
let them consider the Price they pay
for calling a man a liar!
With a title comes a certain power

and a much more certain schooling
a child may play in a castle tower
but the Lord who does soon sees the hour
He hasn't a Land worth ruling.
For there isn't a man but has his doubts

of the worth of those that rule him
but the good ones he will not turn out
unless he finds he's pushed about
or he thinks they're trying to fool him
there's many a man in the Lands of the East

and a few in the West and Middle
who hold a Lord sits LAST to Feast
thinks FIRST of his men, their Lands and beasts
and THEN of his Pride....a little.
Now, what a man says, and what a man does

are controlled by Laws and Reason;
but half the cause of all men's fights:
what one man calls his Natural Rights
another man may call Treason!
So take care all you who sit in State

take care when you come to judge
the cost of a word in anger is great
but greater still, in lasting Hate,
is the cost of holding a grudge!
So..tell the Truth to a Lord you trust,

MORE truth to a Lord you hate!
Lie to a Lady, if lie you must,
but since the Lords live far away
and will not heed what the people say...
LIE! LIE! LIE TO THE COUNCIL! LIE TO THE HEADS OF STATE!
*
#22
CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE

-Ioseph of Locksley
copyright 1984 W. J. Bethancourt III

recorded: CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE, WTP-0002
tune: "Same Old Man/Leatherwing Bat" (Trad. Appalachian)
Hi said the Norn, sittin in the sand

once I talked to a great Grey Man
spun three times and said with a sigh
hadn't been for the Runes had his other eye!
Chorus: hi diddle i diddle i day

hi diddle i diddle i diddle ay
hi di diddle i diddle i day
fol the dink a dum diddle do di day
Hi said the Lady, dressed in green The Circle forms, the Circle flows
prettiest thing I've ever seen the Circle goes where no man knows
she went down underneath the hill Hail to the Lady, one in three:
and came back out of her own free will Present is Past and Past is Me!
Brian Boru, on Irish ground Hi said the Lady dressed in white

walked three times the Island round sang the Day and sang the Night
Norsemen came lookin for a fight sang the Land and sang the Sea
just another Irish Saturday night! sang the Song, and then sang Me!
Hi said Lugh on the banquet night Salt and oil and mirror bright
a poet and a player and a good wheelwright fire and fleet and candlelight
a harper and a warrior and none the least: by fin and feather, leaf and tree,
a Druid and he got in to the Feast! fill the cup and blessed be!
Harold Haardrada's face was red! From the misty crystal sea
Came to Britain and he wound up dead Came the Lady to the lea
Stamford Bridge is where he's found Sword and Roses in Her Hand
got six feet of English ground Spread their seeds thruout the Land
the Legion with it's Eagles bright Came the Stag from oaken wood
marched into the Pictish night saw the Lady where she stood
met them there upon the sand by the fire burning bright
gave em up to the Wicker Man! came to know his heart's delight!
eight-legged steed and hound of Hel By Sword and Harp, and Irish Hound
the one-eyed Man, he loves ya well Blessed Be: the Day I've found
fire burn and fire spark Hail to the Lady, one in Three
are you then feared of the dark? Present is Past and Past is WE
Rhiannon's Birds are still in flight By Oak and Ash and Holy Thorn
all thru the Day all thru the Night Blessed be the Day you're born!
Hail to the Lady, one in Three Fire burn and fire bright
Present is Past and Past is Thee! walk in safety thru the night
*
#23
CHAINMAIL MOMMA
-Moonwulf (Michael Langcor)
-Copyright Firebird Arts & Music
Gets up every morning, puts her armor on (3X)

You know you better not mess with her, or you'll be dead and gone!
She's my chainmail momma, and I'm her shield-munchin' man

With axe, sword or spear, she'll kill you any way she can!
Some women slither, and wiggle their shifty shanks

But when my baby walks with me, you know she rings and clanks!
She's my chainmail momma, dressed head to foot in steel

She's my chainmail momma, and she knows a dozen ways to kill!
She loves me day and night, she never lets me get no rest;
I've got that chainmail waffle-weave imprinted on my chest!
She's my chainmail momma, loves me anytime she can,

She's my chainmail momma, and I'm her shield-munchin' man!
*
#24
THE CHILDISH EDDA

-Bela of Eastmarch, KSCA
Ron Ellik
-tune: "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp"
Yggdrasil, where Nine Worlds clash, is a noble piece of ash

That shelters Norns and Gods and all that crew
There, a Dragon gnaws the base of an Eagle's resting place,
And four Harts, a Goat and Squirrel are there too!
Frigga took a year or so, and, except for mistletoe

Got from everything an Oath for Balder's good
Evil Loki wished him harm, so he hired Hodr's arm,
And the staff the Blind God threw was kissing-wood!
Tyr vowed Fenris-Wolf his hand if he couldn't break the Band

That All-Father's wisdom made both light and hefty...
Lupine muscles strained away, but the magic held its' sway -
And from then on, till The Time, they called Tyr "Lefty!"
When Thor went out to fish, he quickly got his wish,

and he hauled a Jormangandr from the Bay.
But Hymr cut the cable, and Thor was only able
To brag about the "one that got away..."
When Thor called upon the Giants, they didn't show defiance,
But they soon got rid of him, and of his Hammer!
For the sea he could not swallow, and old Grandmaw beat him hollow,
And the House-Pet caused an awful katzenjammer!
Asa-Thor became a "her" for to repossess Mjollnir,

And unto a frosty brute his troth did plight;
But the vittles that he ate would an army more than sate,
And the chefs at Utgard always rued that night!
Each God's Apple every day, kept the doctor far away
'Til a Giant captured Ydun from their Halls...
Loki fetched home Bragi's Bride, with Her health-food store beside,
Plus a char-broiled eagle underneath the Walls!
Odin said to Mim: "I think I would sort of like a drink."

Answered Mim: "That will cost you your left eye!
For you've come up very late to the Well at Wisdom's Gate
And the set-up prices, after hours, are high!"
Oh, the Giants brought their War up to Bifrost's very Door

And the battling wrecked Asgards perfect clime-
Jormungandr, Hel and Fenris dealt out Death in doses generous
And, in fighting, did the Aesir pass The Time!
*
#25
COME FILL UP YOUR GLASSES

-recorded by Steeleye Span
"All Around My Hat"
Come fill up your glasses, and let us be merry

For to rob bags of plunder it is our intent
CHORUS: As we roam thru yonder valleys

Where the lilys and the roses
And the beauty of cashmere lay drooping his head
Then away, then away, then away!
To the gates of yonder mountain where the robbers retreat!
Hush! hush! In the distance there's footsteps approaching!

Stand! Stand and deliver! It is our watch-cry!
Come fill up your glasses and let us be merry!

For to rob bags of plunder it is our intent!
*
#26
CUP OF WONDER
-Ian Anderson
recorded: "Songs from the Wood"
Jethro Tull
copyright 1977 Salamander Music
pub. USA: Chrysalis Music Corp.
May I make my fond excuses for the lateness of the hour

But we accept your invitation, and we bring you Beltane's Flower
For the May Day is the Great Day, strung along the Old Straight Track
And those who ancient Lines did Ley will heed this song that calls them back!
Ask the Green Man where he comes from, ask the Cup that fills with Red
Ask the old grey Standing Stones who show the Sun His way to bed
Question all as to their Ways, and learn the Secrets that they hold
Walk the lines of Nature's Palm, crossed with Silver and with Gold.
(Chorus): Pass the Word, and pass the Lady

Pass the Plate to all who hunger!
Pass the Wit of Ancient Wisdom
Pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder!
Join in Black December's Madness! Lie in August's welcome Corn!

Stir the Cup that's ever filling with the Blood of all thatks born!
And those who ancient Lines did Ley will heed this Song that calls them back!
CUP OF WONDER II
-variant lyrics by Ioseph of Locksley
May I make my fond excuses for the lateness of the Hour

But I accept your invitation, and I bring you Beltane's Flower
For the May Day is the Great Day strung along the Old Straight Track
Ask the Green Man where he comes from, ask the Sun his way to bed
Ask the grey and Standing Stones where last they lay their head
Ask the Lady where She's standing, growing young, and growing old
Cross the Lines of Nature's Palm, marked with Silver, crossed with Gold
For the May Day is the Great Day strung along the Old Straight Track
Ask the Lady where She's standing in the green and growing corn!
Take the Cup that's ever filling with the Blood of all that's born!
So, pass the Cup, and pass the Lady!

Pass the Plate to all who hunger!
Pass the Wit of Ancient Wisdom
Pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder!
(repeat verse 1)
*
#27
DEAR KINDLY LOCAL HERALD
-Goldwyn of Britain
-tune: "Officer Krupke"
Submittor: Dear kindly local herald, I'm new - fresh off the farm.
The SCA's fantastic! I want a coat of arms!
I don't like heralds muchly. Your terms all leave me bored.
This I know - I think I want a sword.
Local: Dear kindly newcomer, don't bring it to me.
Baronial Pursuivant is the one you should see.
In heraldic terms it's called "passing the buck"
So, go away... and best of luck.
Submittor: Best of luck?
Local: Best of luck! Best of luck! You'll need all your pluck
To submit. I'll wish you best of luck.
Submittor: Dear Baronial Pursuivant, I'm told to come to you
So, here is my submission. I know it will go through
I've got a rampant dragon, a sword that's upside down.
Over all there is a golden crown!
Baronial: Dear kindly submittor, I've bad news for you.
It's nice, but you are shy about a copy or two.
Before this submission the College will see -
We should have told you - we need three.
Submittor: You need three?
Baronial: We need three copies - three! We need one, two, three.
Need eight bucks and copies one, two, three.
Submittor: Dear kindly Kingdom Herald, my name and my device
I've shown to other heralds. They say it's really nice.
My lady's made a banner - I've fiberglassed my shield.
Pass it and my future will be sealed.
Kingdom: Dear kindly submittor, I'm sorry to say
That at the herald's meeting that we had yesterday,
We checked our books singly, we checked them en masse;
I've got to tell you - it won't pass.
Submittor: It won't pass?
Kingdom: It won't pass, it won't pass. It conflicts and won't pass.
You can bet your ass it will not pass.
Submittor: Dear Laurel King (Queen) of Arms. I'm running out of hope
The pressure's getting to me. I really cannot cope.
The herald's I've avoided, the tourneys I have missed...
I've been patient. Now I'm getting pissed!
Laurel: Dear pesky submittor, quit bothering me.
'Cause heralds don't respond to an emotional plea.
I'm not gonna pass it, unless you consent
To start again - and document!
Submittor: Document!
Laurel: Document, document ere I give assent.
That is what I said and what I meant!
Local: The trouble is it's simple.
Baronial: It's overly complex.
Kingdom: The trouble is it's marshalled.
Laurel: It's like Purina Chex!
Heralds: The trouble is it has all the troubles we have known
Submittor: Heralds I've got troubles of my own!
Dear Board Of Directors - I'm pleading wit'youse
And here is all my research which you cannot refuse.
Besides all of this, there is just one more thing....
I just became my Kingdom's King!
*
#28
DIE GEDANKEN SIND FREI

-from the Bundshuh Rebellion
March 17, 1525
Translation by Arthur Kevess copyright 1950 People's Songs Inc.
recorded by the Limelighters "Live - In Person"
Die Gedanken sind frei, wer kann sie erraten?

Sie fliehen vorbei wie naechlichte shaten
Kein Mensch kann sie wissen, kein Jager ershiessen
Es bleibet dabei: die Gedanken sind frei!
Die Gendanken sind frei: my thoughts freely flower

Die Gedanken sind frei: my thoughts give me power
No scholar can map them, no hunter can trap them
No man can deny: Die Gedanken sind frei!
Ich denke was ich will, und was mich begluecket

Doch alles in der Still, und wie es sich shicket
Mein Wunsch und Begehren kann niemand verwehren
Es bleibet dabei: Die Gedanken sind frei!
I think as I please, and this gives me pleasure

My concience decrees: this Right I must treasure!
My thoughts will not cater to Duke nor Dictator
No man can deny: Die Gedanken sind frei!
Und sperrt man mich ein im finsteren Kerker

Das alles sind rein vegebliche Werke;
Denn meine Gedanken zerreissen die Schranken
Und Mauern entzwei: Die Gedanken sind frei!
And if tyrants take me and throw me in prison

My thoughts will burst free, like blossoms in season!
Foundations will crumble, the prison will tumble,
And free men will cry: Die Gedanken sind frei!
Es bleibet dabei: Die Gedanken Sind Frei!
*
#29
I'M A DARLIN'
-Anonymous
(Tune: "Dublin City")
As I walked out of Chester city

At the late hour of the night
Who should I see but a fair young maiden
Washing her clothes by the clear moonlight
CHORUS: Madam, I'm a darlin', a die-ro-dither-o

Madam, I'm a darlin', a die-ro-day
First she washed and then she squeezed them

And then she hung them out to dry
And then she folded up her arms saying
O what a fair young girl am I
O, going to the well to fetch some water

Fetching it back to make some cheese
She fell under and I fell over
And all the game was above her knee
Madam I will tie your garter,

I will tie it above your knee
And if you like I'll tie it up farther
'Cause madam I'm a die-row-day
Have you ever heard of cups and saucers

Rattling round an old tin can
have you ever heard of a fair young girl
Married to an ugly grey old man
Madam you may have the gold and silver

Madam you may have the tracts of land
You may have ships all on the ocean
But what you need now is a canny young man
*
#30
*
DUELING HERALDS
-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "Dueling Banjos")
This takes the form of a duet between two Heralds.....
My Lords and Ladies, pray attend

(My Lords and Ladies, pray attend)
Hush your speech and pray forfend!
(Hush your speech and pray forfend!)
From interrupting Royal Court!
(From interrupting Royal Court!)
We'll truly try to keep this short!
(We'll truly try to keep this short!)
His Majesty
(His Majesty)
Wishes Me
(Wishes Me)
To announce announcements to you all
(To announce announcements to you all)
To attend His Presence in this Hall
(To attend His Presence in this Hall)
[together to "Yankee Doodle" theme:]
His Majesty commands you all

Draw nigh and pray attend....for....
[single herald sings:]
Please remember leave the site as clean as clean can be

[And do not] smoke within the Hall, for it's not period, you see
[And try to] speak forsoothly to the gentles partying tonight
[For we're the] SCA, and we're the ones who try to get it right!

We as Heralds condesend
(We as Heralds condesend)
To blazon forth the finest Arms
(To blazon forth the finest Arms)
That ever graced a Kingdom's charms
(That ever graced a Kingdom's charms)
Cheqy bendy plumetty
(Cheqy bendy plumetty)
Gyronny!
(Arondy!)
I believe, sir, you have got it wrong!
(But that's how Locksley wrote the song!)
[together to "Yankee Doodle" theme:]
His Majesty commands you all

Draw nigh and pray attend....for....
(more)
#31
Dueling Heralds (cont.)
[the second Herald sings:]

Three spiders rampant passant statant on a field of green
Surrounded by a bordure compony is what we mean
Engorged with crowns of several kinds, and que-fourchee to boot
And charged with Fleurs-de-Lis in pink
[spoken: "In pink?"

"Well, it -could- have been flamingos!"]
And semee'd in bandicoots!
[both: "ARRGGGHHH!"]

And please do not misapprehend
(And please do not misapprehend)
For we in our pomposity
(For we in our pomposity)
Perpetuate atrocity
(Perpetuate atrocity)
By singing you this awful song
(By singing you this awful song)
We know that it is much too long!
(We know that it is much too long!)
His Majesty
Is kicking me!
So we'll shut up and take our leave
(So we'll shut up and take our leave)
So we'll shut up and take our leave
(So we'll shut up and take our leave)
(fade out and sneak off, if possible....)
*
#32
*
ELRIC THE AWFUL

-Ray Stevens
Way back in history along the Nordic coast

that was the sound all the people feared the most
It would echo thru the night up and down the foggy fj-ord
It was Elric and the bloodthirsty Horde!
Chorus: Elric the Awful, the Brutal and Tenacious

Elric the Awful, the Ruthless and Courageous
Subtle as a chainsaw, lacking all the Social Graces
You can run, but you cannot hide!
YES! And as the oars of the sleek, fierce Viking ship cut thru the water like
knives thru the fog-shrouded Nordic sea, transporting the wild, marauding
band of Viking heathens stealthily towards their unsuspecting, slumbering
victims, there he stood, on the foredeck, Elric the Awful, the wildest,
bloodthirstiest Viking of them all!
(his Momma named him Elric 'cause she couldn't spell AHHGGGRRRFFFFLLLLQQHH!)
He had a hairy head, a hairy face, hairy chest, hairy legs, hairy boots and a
hairy hat, shaped like a big bullet with horns comin' out the sides.....and
once he started after ya he'd NEVER stop!
He'd turn to his oarsmen in his 37 oared fj-ord and he'd say: "MORDEN BORDEN
FJORDEN GORDEN!" which was Viking for:
"YA-HOO!!!!!, RAVAGE, PILLAGE, PLUNDER,

MAIM AND PUT BIG HICKEYS ON ALL THEM FAIR DAMSELS!"
Chorus: And it was Elric the Awful, the Brutal and Tenacious
Elric the Awful, mercy sakes! and goodness gracious!
His appetite for slaughter was simply voracious
You gotta sleep with your sneakers by your side!
YES! And when the villagers heard that awful battle-cry:
* YA-HOOOOOOOOOOO! *
That's the one! They would run for their lives, fleeing over hills and
thru valleys to the river, whereupon they would walk mid-stream for 37 and 1/2
miles, climbing out on the low-lying branch, shinnying down a young sapling
onto rocky ground and leaping from stone to stone until they arrived one week
later at a secret cave 97 miles away, and as they sat down for the first time
to catch their breath, outside they heard:
"YA-HOOOO!!!! MORDEN BORDEN FJORDEN GORDEN!"
Chorus: Yes, it was Elric the Awful, the Brutal and Tenacious
Elric the Awful, turned up in the darndest places
You can run, but you cannot hide!
OH! And this time they cut south to Paris, bought tickets on the Orient
Express to Istanbul, hired a U-Haul to the Coast, jumped a Greek freighter
across the Mediterranian Sea to MON-golia, hooked up with a camel caravan into
the heart of the Gobi Desert, and as they paused at an oasis, to lift one
handful of cool water to their parched lips, over their shoulder they heard:
33
Elric the Awful (cont.)
"YA-HOOOO!!!! MORDEN BORDEN FJORDEN GORDEN!"
They fled to Calcutta!

* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
They fled to the Himalayas!

* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
Tokyo!
* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
Toronto!
* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
Toledo and Heyhailea, Georgia.....

* YA-HOOOOOOOO! *
But it was no use! They finally succumbed to a savage plundering and

pillaging followed by a big hickey party on the outskirts of what is now
Washington, DC, where the decendants of Elric can still be found today,
working as Special Agents for the IRS!
Elric later amassed a small fortune posing for Molly Hatchet album covers,
and did stuntwork for Arnold Schwartzenegger in Conan the Barbarian! He also
won an Academy Award for his dual role as a train wreck and his tender
portrayal of King Kong's daddy! Oh, you might remember the end of that one:
there wasn't a dry eye in the house when he married the Empire State Building.
And who could forget the evening he ate the entire Kingdom of the East?
With no sugar?
Chorus: Elric the Awful, the Brutal and Tenacious

Elric the Awful, the Hungry and Voracious
You can run but you cannot hide!
* YA-HOOOOOOOOOOO! *
*
#34
FAIRIES LOVE SONG

-Anonymous
Why should I sit and sigh

Broo and bracken, broo and bracken
Why should I sit and sigh
All alone and weary
When I see the plover rising

Or the curlew wheeling
It's then I'll court my mortal lover
Back to me is stealing
When the moon begins her waning

I sit by the water
Where a man born of the sunlight
Loved the Faerie's daughter
Oh, but there is something wanting

O but I am weary
Coming blithe, now bonny treads he
O'er the knolls to cheer me
THE FALSE KNIGHT UPON THE ROAD (Child #3)

"Oh where are you going to?"

said the False Knight upon the road
"Oh I'm going to my school."
said the wee boy and still he stood
"What is that upon your back?"
said the False Knight upon the road
"Ah weel, it is my books!"
said the wee boy and still he stood
Oh, what have you got there? I wish you was on the sands.
I have got my bread and cheese! Yes, and a good staff in my hands!
Oh won't you give me some? I wish you was on the sea.
No, ne'r a bite or crumb! And a good ship under me!
And the ship to sink.

An inch away from shore!
I think I hear a bell.
And it rings you straight to Hell!
*
#35
FARAIS UN VERS DREIT RIEN

-William IX, Count of Poitiers
tune: Ioseph of Locksley
copyright 1976 W.J.Bethancourt III
recorded: "Celtic Circle Dance"
I'll make some verses just for fun

Not about me, nor anyone
Nor deeds that noble Knights have done,
Nor Love's ado
I made them riding, in the sun..
My horses helped, too!
When I was born? I cannot say!

I am not sad, I am not fey,
I am not stiff, nor degage...
What shall I do?
Long since, enchanted by a Fay,
Star-touched I grew.
Dreaming for living I'll mistake

Unless I'm told when I'm awake
My heart is sad, and nigh to break
With bitter rue
And I don't care three crumbs of cake
Nor even two!
So ill am I that Death I fear

(I nothing know but what I hear...)
I hope there is a doctor near
no matter who!
If he can cure me, I'll pay dear;
If not: He's thru!
I have a Lady; who, or where

I cannot tell you, but I swear
She treats me neither ill, nor fair,
But I'm not blue...
Just as the * Normans * stay...up there...
OUT of Poitou!
I have not seen, yet I adore

This distant love, she sets no store
On what I think, and furthermore...
('tis sad, but true)
Others there are...some three...or four...
I'm....faithful....to!
I've made this verse, if you'll allow

I think I'll pass it on right now
To one who'll send it on, somehow,
Up to Anjou.
He'd tell me what it means, I vow,
If he but knew!
*
#36
FIDDLER'S GREEN
-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "Fiddler's Green")
As I went a-walking one evening so rare

To view the still waters and taste the cool air
I heard an old SCAdian singing this song
Sayin', "Take me away boys, my time is not long.....
CHORUS: Wrap me up in me armor and surcoat;

No more in the Lists I'll be seen!
Just tell all the ladies, I've not gone to Hades,
And I'll see you someday on Fiddler's Green."
Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell

Where all SCAdians go, if they don't go to hell!
Where the weather is fair and the maidens do play,
And the Board of Directors are far, far away.....
Where the weather is perfect, and there's never rain,

And going to Tourneys is never a pain!
You lie at your leisure, there's no work to do,
While the rivers are made of pure Tullimore Dew.....!
Where pavilions set themselves up on their own,

And the Seneshals run things with never a moan!
Beside the green woodlands, and near a pure creek,
And the Heralds are all quite unable to speak......!
I don't need no wings, nor the halo I lack;

Just give me a horse and a city to sack!
I'll play me old cittern as we ride along
And the wind from the mountains will sing me this song.....
*
#37
FLOWER OF THE DESERT

-Baldwin of Erebor
On a warm winter's evening I stopped at an Inn

I met a bold captain; a leader of men
he asked me to join him, for he was alone
and, as he was drinking, he spoke of his home
(Chorus): Oh, Flower of the Desert full well may you boast!
Proud Father-of-Kingdoms from mountains to coast!
the Land of the Phoenix; your works have been felt!
Oh Flower of the Desert: Atenveldt!
When I was a young man and still in my prime

My life stretched before me; I had plenty of time
But now I'm an old man, and I number my days
And I think of my homeland that seems so far away
I've followed the Wars now for many a year

Rode plenty of wenches; drank an ocean of beer
Lived life to the fullest as a soldier must do
but I'd trade it all, freely, for the Atenveldt blue!
The fire died to embers; he drank steadily on

When I woke in the morning the soldier was gone.
But I think of his story wherever I bide
What a beautiful Kingdom to inspire such pride!
FORTUNE MY FOE
Fortune my foe, why dost thou frown on me

and will thy favors never greater be
Wilt thou I say forever breed me pain
And wilt thou ne'er restore my joys again
Fortune hath brought me grief and great annoy

fortune hath falsely stolen my love away
My love and joy whose sight did make me glad
such great misfortune never young man had
*
#38
*
FRUIT OF THE YEW (tune guitar: DADGBD)

-James Treebull (aka: Trooper)
copyright 1989 James Gahar (BMI)
Grim warriors appeared, decked in iron and gold,

Their bright banners snapped in the breeze
Harvest was over, the weather was cold
Turning hot breath to cloud in the freeze.
They moved over river, and meadow and field

The peasantry scattered before
They gathered the wealth of the land on their shields
And carried it off to the shore.
"How can this happen, and where is our King?

And where are the warriors we pay?"
"Aye, the King may be King where he sits on his throne,
But his throne is four days ride away!"
Swift word was sent to the men of the woods

There'll be no trade for Winter this year.
No sacks of grain for the skin of the fox,
No ale for the flesh of the deer.
But deep in the woodlands of Wales grows a tree,

And the name of that tree is the yew.
And the fruit of the yew is a stout longbow stave
Throwing straight clothyard shafts strong and true!
They gathered in numbers from forest and fen

Walking soft as the hunting-men do,
And hung at their belts were the straight clothyard shafts
In each hand was the fruit of the yew.
And, slipping by night thru the still-burning steads,

They looked for the camp by the shore
And each made a vow, as he passed by the dead,
That the morning would even the score.
Well, morning broke clear, and the raiders awoke,

With a leisurely thought for the day
Till one showed himself, and a soft bowstring spoke,
From three hundred paces away!
And as he fell dead, a loud, taunting voice spoke

"It's a pleasure to pay you your due!"
"You came seeking all of the fruits of our land,
Have a taste of the fruit of the yew!"
What use are shields that don't cover the legs?

Or helms that don't cover the eyes?
Or shirts of bright mail 'gainst the stout clothyard shaft
That can pierce thru a stag on the fly?
The King arrived early, mud-spattered and tired,

Just to look on a field of the dead.
Cut down from the front as they stood in their line,
Cut down from the rear as they fled! (more)
#39
Fruit Of The Yew (cont.)
"And where are the men that have done me this deed?"
Asked the King, from his horse ridden lame,
"'Twas outlaws and brigands from back in the woods,
They've since fled back whence they all came."
"And would they take Pardon, and live in my Peace?"

Asked the King of his Councilor true,
Said the Councilor, "Nay, they're a quarrelsome lot;
They'll not become lawful for you."
Raiders, take heed to the gist of my tale

(It may lengthen your lives, if you will!)
When you go a-reavin' be sure of your mark!
Take care that it matches your skill!
For England pays silver, and Spain will give gold,

And France will grant land, that is true,
But seek not for wealth in the woodlands of Wales,
For THEY pay in the fruit of the yew!
THE FUBBA-WUBBA SONG

-Mark the Immoral
(Tune: "Rubber Ducky")
Fubba-Wubba, big and round

When was the last time you saw the ground?
Fubba-Wubba, we're awfully tired of you!
Fubba-Wubba with an Attitude

How did you ever get so rude?
Fubba-Wubba we're awfully tired of you!
At a war, you're such a bore to everybody

They want to strangle you, but what to do with the body?
(Sell it for the blubber!)
Fubba-Wubba, you're the only one

Who knows how it should be done
Fubba-Wubba, you're an expert,

When it comes to doing dirt!
You're no fool when it's a rule that you're explainin'

But still it seems to me that we all agree that you're complainin'
That you could do it better.....
Fubba-Wubba with that nasal whine

Don't you know, can't you see the signs
Fubba-Wubba, we're awfully tired of
The B.S. you seem to be sired of
Fubba-Wubba, we're AWFULLY tired of YOU!
*
#40
*
GAUDETE
from: Piae Cantones (Swedish, 1582)
Recorded by Steeleye Span "Below the Salt"
Gaudete! Gaudete Christus est natus

Ex Maria Virginae, gaudete! (repeat)
Tempus ad est gratiae Ezecheelis porta

Hoc quod optibamus Clausa per transistor
Carmina laetitae Unde lux est orta
Devote redamus Sallus invenitor
Deus homo factus est Ergo nostra contio

Naturam erante Psallat jam in lustro
Mundus renovatus est Benidicat domino
A Christo regnante! Sallus Regi Nostro!
GAUDETE: THE TRANSLATION!

from: Piae Cantones (1582)
-translated (?) by Ioseph of Locksley
Latin: English:
Gaudete! Gaudete Gaudette (Fr.) and Christopher

Christus est natus have been naughty with Maria (Sp.)
Ex Maria Virginae, from ( or in ) Virginia, USA.
gaudete!
Tempus ad est gratiae Tempus (1) is grateful for the

Hoc quod optibamus pawnshop while Carmine's breasts
Carmina laetitae are late in developing. He remains
Devote redamus optomistic as they ask to be read
the election results.
Deus homo factus est
Naturam erante Nature has erred and made God a
Mundus renovatus est poofter. Next month, renovation,
A Christo regnante! and Christopher may get pregnant.
Ezecheelis porta Eziekiel is carrying Santa Claus

Clausa per transistor with a transistor radio. Sally has
Unde lux est orta invented ( or ought to invent ) a
Sallus invenitor deluxe model of fancy underwear.
Ergo nostra contio The Ergones (2) are in our nostrils,

Psallat jam in lustro but we lust for "Psallat Jam."
Benidicat domino "The Benedictine dominos will reign
Sallus Regi Nostro! over Sally" says Nostradamus.
(1) A character from "Thieve's World." Damn Bob Asprin gets in EVERYWHERE!
(2) Alien beings reputed to be used-car salesmen.
*
#41
GUINIVERE
-Donovan Leitch
Guinivere of the Royal Court of Arthur

Dressed in white velvet, linen and lace.
The rustle of her gown on the white marble staircase
Sparkles on fingers, both slender and pale.
(Chorus): the Jester he sleeps while the Raven he peeps

thru the dark foreboding skies
of the Royal Domain.
Maroon-coloured wine, from the vinyards of Charlemagne

is sipped by the Queen's Lips, and so tenderly.
Indigo eyes in the flickering candlelight
Such is the silence over Royal Camelot.
(Chorus)
*
#42
HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACTA EST!

(tune: This Land is Your Land...sigh...)
HAEC TERR(A) EST TUA, HAEC TERR(A) EST MEA

EX CALIFORNIA AD PENNSYLVANIAM
EX RUFIS SILVIS AD AQUAS SINUS
HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACT(A) EST
PEDUM MEORUM GRADUS SEQEBAR

AD DEAERTUM PULER(ES) GURDENTES
ATQUE CANTABAT VOX CIRCA ME
CUM AMBULAREM IN ARCTA VIA

VIDI SUPRA ME SEMTERNUM COELUM
VIDI INFRA ME AUREAS VALLES
CUM SOL LUCERET ET AMBUAM

TRITICUM JACT(A) RET ET PULVIS FLARET
CUM NEBUL(A) SURGERET ET VOX DICTARET
*
#43
HARD TIMES OF OLD ENGLAND

-Traditional
Come all brother tradesmen who travel along,

I pray, come and tell me where the trade is all gone
Long time have I travelled, and I cannot find none
CHORUS: And it's oh, the hard times of old England

In old England very hard times!
Provisions you buy at the shop, it is true

But if you've no money, there's none there for you
So what is a poor man, and his family to do?
You will go to the shop where you'll ask for a job

They'll answer you there with a shake and a nod
Well, that is enough to make a man turn and rob!
You will see the poor tradesmen a-walking the streets

From morning to night their employment to seek
And scarce do they have any shoes on their feet
Our soldiers and sailors have just come from war

And fighting for Queen and for Country this year
Come home to be starved, should have stayed where they were
And now to conclude and to finish my song

Let us hope that these hard times, they will not last long
I hope soon to have occasion to alter my song
And sing: Oh, the good times of old England

In old England, jolly good times!
*
#44
HARP SONG OF THE DANE WOMEN

-Rudyard Kipling
tune by Ioseph of Locksley
What is a woman that you forsake her?

and the hearth fire, and the home-acre?
to go with the old, grey Widow-Maker?
She has no house to lay a guest in

but one chill bed for all to rest in
that the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in
She has no strong white arms to fold you

but the ten times fingering weeds to hold you
out on the rocks where the tide has rolled you
Yet, when the signs of Summer thicken

and the ice breaks and the birch-buds quicken
yearly you turn from our side and sicken
Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters

you steal away to the lapping waters
and look at your ship in her winter quarters
You forget our mirth, and talk at the tables

the kine in the shed and the horse in the stables
to pitch her sides and go over her cables...
Then you drive out where the storm clouds swallow

and the sound of your oar-blades, falling hollow
is all we have left through the months to follow
Ah...but what is a woman that you forsake her?

and the hearth fire, and the home-acre?
to go with the old, grey Widow-maker?
*
*
#45
THE SAD TALE OF HARRY POLLITT, PARLIAMENTARIAN

-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "Harry Pollitt")
Harry Pollitt lived in Atenveldt,

A Parliamentarian lad;
He was most foully murdered
By those naughty Royalist cads!
Those naughty Royalist cads!
Those bullying Royalist cads!
He was most foully murdered
By those naughty Royalist cads!
Ol' Harry went to Heaven,

Got to the Gates with ease,
Says: "May I speak with Citizen God?
I'm Harry Pollitt, please!"
Harry Pollitt, please (&c)
St. Peter says to Harry

"Are you humble and contrite?"
"Well, I slap around Royalist Ladies!"
"Well...OK! That's quite all right!"
Ok, that's quite all right
Yer a Roundhead pure and bright!
Yer a BRAVE MAN to slap Ladies
So, OK, that's quite all right!
Well they put him in the choir,

But he was too close to God;
So he griped about the angels,
And wrote letters to the BoD.
Letters to the BoD
Outraged letters to the BoD
He griped about the angels,
And wrote letters to the BoD
One day when God was walkin' The verdict, it was GUILTY
Round Heaven to meditate, Harry said "Oh, well!"
Who should he see but Harry So he tucked his nightie round his knees
Chalkin' slogans on the Gate! And he drifted down to Hell
Slogans on the Gate (&c) Drifted down to Hell (&c.)
They brought him up on charges Now seven long years have passed
Before the Holy Ghost And Harry's doin' swell!
For spreadin' Roundhead thinkin' He's just been made First People's
Amongst the Heavenly Host! Commissar of Parliament Hell!
Amongst the Heavenly Host (&c) Commissar of Parliament Hell
(Just a mile from Ysgithr!)
He's just been made First People's
Commissar of Parliament Hell!
So the moral of my story

Is easy for to tell
If you think this is a Democracy,
You better go to Hell!
*
#46
*
THE HERALDS SAID TO ME

-Ioseph of Locksley and Cherie Ruadh of Locksley
(sung to the tune (obviously) of the 12 Days of Christmas)
1. The first time I sent my device, The Heralds said to me
"It violates the Rule of Three"
2. The next time I tried it, the Heralds said to me
"We changed the forms, and it violates the Rule of

Three".
3. The third time I tried, and the Heralds said to me,
"We upped the fees, we changed the forms, and it

violates the Rule of Three".
4. Another time I tried and the Heralds said to me,
"We haven't got it, we upped the fees, we changed the

forms, and it violates the Rule of Three".
5. The fifth time I tried it, the Heralds said to me,
"In a decision rendered by the College of Arms on

August 1st, A.S. V it was decided that this style of
heraldic design was not appropriate to the aims and
intentions of the Corporate Body. Holy! Holy! Holy! "
note: verse 5 is delivered in an extremely fast, mono-

tone, similiar to a Gregorian Chant.
" ....we haven't got it, we upped the fees, we changed the forms,
and it violates the Rule of Three."
6. I tried it a sixth time, and the Heralds said to me,
"We changed the rules, &c"
7. A seventh time I tried and, the Heralds said to me,
"It's against the Rule of Tincture, we changed the

rules, &c"
8. I tried it once again and the heralds said to me,
"It's not a Period design, It's against the Rule of Tincture, We

changed the rules, &c"
9. I sent it in once more, and the Heralds said to me,

"We changed the rules again, It's not a Period design,
it's against the Rule of Tincture, we changed the
rules, &c" (more)
#47
The Heralds Said To Me (cont.):
10. (sung in cold anger)

The LAST time I sent my device, the Heralds said to me
(sung in a state of SMUG)

"Someone else has got it, &c"
(nb: every single one of these reasons has been used by the
CoA, at one point or another, to reject perfectly good
heraldry, along with some even MORE stupid. If the shoe
fits....................!!!!!!!!)
HOW SHOULD I YOUR TRUE LOVE KNOW?

-Wm. Shakespeare (Hamlet)
(Ophelia's song)
Am E Am A dim
How should I your true love know?
C G Dm Am
From another one?
Dm Am A dim
By his cockle-hat and staff
Am C G Am G
And his sandal shoon.
He is dead and gone, Lady,

He is dead and gone!
At his head a soft green turf
At his heels a stone.
White his shroud as mountain snow,

Larded o'er with flowers,
Which bewept to the grave did go
With true lovers showers.
*
#48
*
THE HIGHWAYMAN
Lyrics: Alfred Noyes

Melody: Phil Ochs
Em G C
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
Em G C D
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas
Em G Cd
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
Em G B7 Em
And the highwayman came riding, riding, riding-
C G C D
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn yard
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter
Plaiting a red love-knot into her long black hair.
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize tonight,

But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight,
I will come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;

And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching, marching, marching-
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn door.
They tied her up to attention, with many a sickening jest,

And they bound a musket beside her, with the barrel to her breast.
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,
"Look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight,
I will come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."
"Look for me by moonlight." The hoof-beats ringing clear.

"Watch for me by moonlight." Were they deaf they did not hear?
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight, her musket shattered the moonlight
Shattered her breast in the moonlight, and warned him - with her death.
He turned, he spurred him westward; he did not know who stood

Bowed with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood.
Not 'til the dawn he heard it; his face grew gray to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter, the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love by moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
* more *
#49
The Highwayman (cont.)
Back he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,

With the white road smoking behind him, and his rapier brandished high!
Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding, riding, riding-
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn door.
HUNG OVER BARBARIAN

-Robert Asprin
tune: "Teddy-bears' Picnic"
E Am E Am E Am E Am
If you go out on the streets today, you better not go alone!
C G C G C G C
Do not go out on the streets today, it's safer to stay at home!
F G C Am G
The least excuse that ever there was today will mean a challenge because
F C F C G C
From drink last night old Fafhrd is quite....hungover!
C
Hungover Barbarian! You'd best beware of him,
G7
he's certainly not himself today!
If you see him better run

C
'cause you'll get killed if you get in his way!
he is in a cloud of gloom, so give him lots of room

F
and better not come too near!
C
you gentle folk who value your lives better stay at home today
F G7 C
'cause Fafhrd's hung over out to HERE!
E7
so......
If you go out on the streets today, you better go with a guard!

There's lots of pleasanter ways to die than be crushed by a ton of lard
If you pretend my mountainous friend is not a threat, you'll come to your end
For Fafhrd's quite prepared for a fight..........
He'd like to pound you into the ground...........
You'd best beware! You'd better take care!
His head and brain in TERRIBLE pain..............
from drink last night old Fafhrd is quite........hung over!
*
#50
I'M A PELICAN AND I'M OK

-Anonymous
tune: "I'm A Lumberjack..."
Oh, I'm a Pelican and I'm OK

I work all night and I work all day!
I autocrat, I run events, I order the lava'trie!

On Sundays I clean up the camp; I'm always last to leave!
I wear this bird around my neck to impress both young and old
My talents they are many, and younger Peers I scold!
When things go wrong it's me you seek to put them back on course
If I'm not around to steer things right: there's always God, of course!
Oh I'm a Pelican and I'm OK
We stand around and polish Crowns of all the Royalty

We fix Their Thrones, we make no bones, for Pelicans are we!
Yes, I'm a Pelican I'm proud to say
that if it's done right it's done MY way!
I'M A VIKING
-Elfrida the Landless
(tune: "Oh, Susannah")
Oh, I come from Scandanavia with my helm upon my head,

And I won't be going home again 'till all of you are dead!
(CHORUS): I'm a Viking! For that's the thing to be!

There's no greater joy than fighting
for a berserker like me!
Oh, we had a raid the other night when everything was still
We waited until moonrise and came shrieking down the hill!
The blood was pouring down the streets, the women ran and screamed;
It was better fun than anyone could possibly have dreamed!
The loot we loaded on the ships was too great to be told

The slaves we towed behind on rafts, for ballast we had gold!
We took home herds of cows and pigs, we took home chests of jewels
Why should we work, when we can loot from futile, puny fools?
Oh, we're hairy-chested fighters and we have no time for games

What we don't take back home with us we leave behind in flames
And if you see a Viking ship, there's nothing you can do
Just kiss your wife, and cross yourself, and bid the world adieu!
*
#51
THE INNKEEPER'S SONG

-James Treebull
(aka: Trooper)
copyright 1989 James Gahar (BMI)
Am F G Am
I have been a traveller, I've seen the far countries
Am F C G
Marched across the meadows - sailed across the seas
Am F G Am
Faced the fearsome slaughter in the madness of the line
Am F G Am
Watched the death of innocence - surprised when it was mine.
I have heard the seagulls where the ocean washes sand

Seen the cold steel flashing, felt the hot blood on my hands,
Heard the screams of wounded men, just praying to be dead
Followed many leaders, and was followed where I led.
When I found a lady-love, 'twas mostly quick and cold

We bartered for their services with cloth, and food and gold
But when the army marched away, some few might tag along
To walk behind the baggage train, singing bawdy songs.
Now, I'm old, but hale enough, with many tales to tell
My shares brought me this roadside inn, which suits my temper well
But when the weather's cold, my wounds will ache again, I fear,
I kill the pain with sleeping-herbs, and mugs of barley beer.
You say you're for the cavalry, the dashing cavaliers

But horsemen, too, must fight on foot, when battle comes too near
So if by chance you find yourself dismounted in the line
Keep always in between two friends, with one eye out behind.
And take with ye my hanger, boy, 'twas ever at my side;

There's some say she's a lucky blade, it often saved my hide
And if your Ma had lived I'm sure she'd weep to see ya go
As it is..Godspeed, my son! I've taught you all I know.
*
#52
IOSEPH'S SONG
-Ioseph of Locksley
copyright 1972, 1989 W. J. Bethancourt III
(Tune: same as "Song Of Golias")
Some folks call me many names, others call me crazy

Tom O'Bedlam's son am I, for my mind is hazy!
I'd rather sing a song than work (if it's not too phrasey!)
Lengthy rhymes don't bother me....truth to tell: I'm lazy!
Yang, your yurt is very nice, and your Horde is smelly,

And I'm sure that yak-meat will nicely fill one's belly!
But remember this one line, or you're not worth jelly:
FIRST you plunder, THEN you burn! That's how to be rakehelly!
My Lady Lorelei your eyes do drive me to distraction

And the lovely Care-Cheri causes....petrifaction!
But I, and they, quite taken are, so I can't take action...
Therefore, Ladies, fill my cup; I'll drink to stupefaction!
Now Atenveldt your fighters, all, are most good and gentle
And the Ladies, bless 'em all, are most ornamental!
But that little Nikki-Toad....has me sentimental
Though with boffer in her hand she is argumental!
This stupid little song, m'lords, is mostly sung in Latin

By the Goliards, of course, from vespers clear to matins!
But I prefer a coarser cloth over silk or satins
English is more understood, mine enemies to flatten!
Good People all, I've made my Song, its' music's well-recited

But my voice could use some work; the flowers it has blighted!
It's rude and rusty, grim and bad, and squeaky like a door-hinge,
But I'm a better Bard than you: I found a rhyme for "orange!"
(note to verse 4: Nichelle of Whitewolfe is now a very beautiful young

Lady. This verse was written when she was 2 years old. Ask HER!
*
#53
I SING OF DEAD BUNNIES

-Anonymous, but Moonwulf started it!
tune: "Sweet Betsy From Pike"
I sing of dead bunnies, and burnt baby chicks

Barbecued squirrels, and hamsters on sticks
Ducklings in blenders, and frogs off the road
Opossums on fenders and deep french-fried toad!
Sliced and diced sparrows, dead dogs on the lawn

Cats riddled with arrows, and disemboweled faun
Pickled canaries, and clubbed baby seals
Mice served in berries, and turtles 'neath wheels
Minced baby earwigs, koala fillet

Rat Pie with custard, and cockroach puree
Fred's little brother, and Mystery Beast:
These are the things that they served at the Feast!
*
#54
*
THE ITSY BITSY TEENY WEENY.......

-Ioseph of Locksley
(The tune should be obvious!)
She was afraid to come out to the Tourney

She was worried that "something might show.."
She was afraid to come out to the Tourney
And the poor thing did NOT want to go...
(2 - 3 - 4, tell the people what she wore!)
It was an itsy bitsy teeny weenie little rabbit fur bikini

That she wore, for the first time, that day.
An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
And in her apartment she wanted to stay!
One day in the Kingdom of the Middle

It happened at a Tourney one day:
The Mongols invaded the Middle
But the Middle did not want to play...
(eins - zwei - drei, but the Dark Horde wouldn't die!)
It was an itsy bitsy tiny teenie Nauseating Mongol weenie

That they saw, for the first time, that day.
An itsy bitsy tiny teenie Nauseating Mongol weenie
And the Mongols did NOT go away!
Now the Heralds made up a new Rulebook

And to read it is some kind of gas!
It's a bureaucrat's dream, this new Rulebook
Now NOBODY'S blazon can pass!
(Win - Place - Show, tell the Heralds where to go!)
(insert Bronx cheer!)
I want an itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini

On my shield, as my blazon, today!
But "that's offensive" the Heralds all say!
I sat down at the Revel last evening

To a feast of green meat, and Rat Pie...
It was cold, and disgusting, and greasy
And I just want to upchuck and die!
(6 - 7 - 8, tell them what was on your plate!)
It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini

With a side dish of cold cabbage pie!
With the fur on, and NOTHING inside!
(This was written to bug my sweet wife to death with...........heheh!)
*
#55
JOHN BARLEYCORN
There were three men come out of the West

Their fortunes for to try,
And these three men made a solemn vow:
John Barleycorn should die!
John Barleycorn should die!
(nb: 4th line of each verse is sung twice)
They plowed, they sowed, they harrowed him in,

Threw clods upon his head,
And these three men made a solemn vow:
John Barleycorn was dead!
CHORUS: Fa la la la, it's a lovely day!

Sing fa la la lay oh!
Fa la la la, it's a lovely day!
Sing fa la la lay oh!
They let him lie for a very long time

'Til the rain from Heaven did fall,
Then Little Sir John sprung up his head,
And so amazed them all!
They let him stand 'til Midsummer tide,

'Til he grew both pale and wan,
Then Little Sir John he grew a long beard,
And so became a man!
They hired men with the sythes so sharp

To cut him off at the knee
They rolled him and tied him about the waist,
And used him barbarously!
They hired men with the sharp pitchforks

To pierce him to the heart,
And the loader he served him worse than that,
For he tied him in a cart!
They wheeled him around and around the field,

'Til they came to a barn,
And there they made a solemn mow
Of poor John Barleycorn,
They hired men with the crab-tree sticks

To strip him skin from bone
And the Miller he served him worse than that:
For he ground him between two stones!
They have wheeled him here and wheeled him there

And wheeled him to a barn,
And they have served him worse than that
They have bunged him in a vat!
(more)
#56
John Barleycorn (cont.):
They have worked their will on John Barleycorn

But he lived to tell the tale;
For they pour him out of an old brown jug,
And they call him home-brewed ale!
Here's Little Sir John in a nut-brown bowl,

And brandy in a glass!
And Little Sir John in the nut-brown bowl
Proved the stronger man at last!
For the huntsman he can't hunt the fox

Nor loudly blow his horn,
And the tinker can't mend kettles nor pots
Without John Barleycorn!
(Note: sing the chorus after every other verse. For SCA use, this song is very
effective as a solo performance in the beginning, with more and more people
joining the chorus as the High Table is served, ending (preferably) with a
presentation of home-made mead or ale.)
*
###############################
#57
A KINGDOM ONCE AGAIN

-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "A Nation Once Again")
When boyhood's fire was in my blood,

I read of ancient freemen
Of Arthur, King, and Robin Hood,
And England's brave and free men;
And then I prayed I might yet see
Our fetters rent in twain,
And my dear homeland shall yet be
A Kingdom once again!
CHORUS: A Kingdom once again!

And Sun-land, long a Province, be
And then the day, it came at last,

A Kingdom was our notion
Our Kingdom stretched from fair Sun's land
All to the Eastern Ocean!
With Kingdoms born from Aten's Sun,
Yet -still- I wait in vain.....
When my dear homeland shall be made
And from that time thru wildest woe,

That hope has shone a far light
In morning's sunrise golden glow,
In desert's solemn starlight!
It seemed to watch above my head
In forum, field and fane;
It's angel voice sang round my head:
"A Kingdom once again!"
The time has come: the call to arms

To Atenveldt's bright homeland!
The tocsin sounds its wild alarm:
Tis time to make our own stand!
Arise! And take your rightful place,
With Aten's honoured Name!
United, we will make our land
*
#58
KING HENRY (Child #32)

recorded by Steeleye Span "Below the Salt"
Let never a man a-wooing wend that lacketh thing-s three:

A store of gold, an open heart, and full of charity
And this was said of King Henry, as he lay quite alone
For he's taken him to a Haunted hall, seven miles from the town
He's chased the deer now him before, and the doe down by the glen
When the fattest buck in all the flock, King Henry he has slain
His huntsmen followed him to the Hall, to make them burly cheer
When loud the wind was heard to howl, and an earthquake rocked the floor
As darkness covered all the Hall where they sat at their meat
The grey dogs, yowling, left their food and crept to Henry's feet
And louder howled the rising wind, and burst the fastened door
When in there came a grisly ghost, stamping on the floor!
Her head hit the rooftree of the house, her middle you could not span
Each frightened Huntsman fled the hall, and left the King alone
Her teeth were like the tether-stakes, her nose like club or mall
And nothing less she seemed to be than a Fiend that comes from Hell!
Some meat, some meat, you King Henry, some meat you bring to me
Go kill your horse, you King Henry, and bring some meat to me!
And he has slain his berry-brown steed, it made his heart full sore
For she's eaten it up, both skin and bone, left nothing but hide and hair!
More meat, more meat, you King Henry, more meat you give to me!
Oh you must kill your good greyhounds, and bring some meat to me!
And he has slain his good greyhounds, it made his heart full sore
For she's eaten them up, both skin and bone, left nothing but hide and hair!
More meat, more meat, you King Henry, more meat you give to me!
Oh, you must slay your good goshawks, and bring some meat to me!
And he has slain his good goshawks, it made his heart full sore
For she's eaten them up, both skin and bone, left nothing but feathers bare!
Some drink, some drink, you King Henry, some drink you give to me
Oh you sew up your horse's hide, and bring some drink to me!
And he's sewn up the bloody hide, and a pipe of wine put in
And she's drank it up all in one drop, left never a drop therein!
A bed, a bed, now King Henry, a bed you'll make for me!
Oh you must pull the heather green, and make it soft for me!
And he has pulled the heather green, and made for her a bed
And taken has he his good mantle, and over it he has spread.
Take off your clothes, now King Henry, and lie down by my side!
Now swear, now swear, you King Henry, to take me as your Bride!
Oh God forbid, said King Henry, that ever the like betide;
That ever a Fiend that comes from Hell should stretch down by my side!
Then the night was gone, and the day was come and the sun did fill the Hall
The fairest Lady that ever was seen lay twixt him and the wall!
I've met with many a Gentle Knight that gave me such a fill,
But never before with a Perfect Knight, that gave me all my Will!
*
#59
LAMENT FOR CAMELOT

-Marie d'Atenveldt
(tune: "Mountains o'Mourne")
O Mary, this West is a wonderful sight!

The Board is here working by day, and by night.
They don't go to Revels, or Tourneys and things,
But they make all the Rules....and they crucify Kings.
But when I asked them that, I was told I was rude,
And I'd better shut up, or the Board might get SUED!
But for all that I learned there, I wish I could be
Where Camelot could be created for me.
In the Days of King Arthur, the King's Word was Law,

and Chivalrous, Courtly behaviour he saw.
But nowadays other ways are the Big Thing:
If you don't like the rules, you just spit on the King.
It's just a Brass Hat; we're just playing a game
Of dressing up funny, with wierd sounding names...
If that's what we're here for, then where can it be,
This Camelot that was created for me?
And if you asked me, O, I could write reams,

Of the tears of my children, and my broken Dreams....
But a Dream can't be broken, and children are wise,
For I can see Merlin gaze out of their eyes!
So fear not, dear Mary, the Dream's still alive!
The swords are still sharp, and The Day will arrive
When Camelot's Glory is to us restored
At the point of a Word.....or the point of a Sword!
LOCKSLEY MONSTERS
-Ioseph of Locksley
(to the tune of "Good King Wenceslaus")
Locksley Monsters never yield

on the field of battle
strike the helm and bash the shield
make their eyeteeth rattle
Bodies on the ground will lie
bones will burst in sunder
search for Locksleys' enemies:
You'll find them six feet under!
*
#60
LOCKSLEY PLOT
-Agnes of Blackfield
-Yehudah ben Levi
-Tune: "My Favourite Things"
Yesterday morning the Duke was a-screaming

The Viscount was crying 'cause Locksley's are scheming
A green-and-white tassle was found on the spot
That's how we know it's a Lock-se-ley Plot!
First was the Barony, then came the Kingdom

Then took a shot at the BoD, but just winged 'em
They have the biggest Household on the block
Don't you know everything's a Locksley Plot?
CHORUS: When things occur, we can't explain

And that happens a lot!
We simply call out Master Ioseph's name,
And scream: "It's a Locksley Plot!"
Seneshals quiver and fill out reports

Sometimes the Locksleys have them out of sorts
Leaders of Households feel so insecure
Best is to join up, so they can endure!
To find a Locksley is really no hassle:

Look for the ones wearing a green-and-white tassle!
They're marching forward, with banners unfurled,
Today the Kingdom, tomorrow the World!!!!
CHORUS
There's no place to run to, there's no place to hide,

The Confederation is Known Worlde wide!
They're in every castle, they're in every cot,
That's how the King knows it's a Locksley Plot!
(spoken): Wait a minnit! Is not the King also.......

But what's this? a HordeCord?
IT'S INCONCEIVABLE!!!!!!
(I don't think that word means what you think
it means......)
CHORUS
*
#61
LORD GREGORY (Child #76)

(aka: The Lass of Loch Royal)
-recorded by Judy Collins, Joan Baez, The Silly Sisters, &c.
I am a King's daughter, I come from Cappa Quin

In search of Lord Gregory, pray God I find him
The wind beats on my yellow hair, the dew wets my skin

My babe is cold in my arms, Lord Gregory let me in!
Lord Gregory is not here, and likewise can't be seen

He's gone to bonnie Scotland to bring home his new Queen
Do you remember, Lord Gregory, as we sat at the wine

We exchanged rings, love, and the worst one was mine
Yours was of the beaten gold, and mine of black tin

Yours cost a shilling, love, and mine but a pin.
Do you remember, Lord Gregory, that night in my father's hall

When you stole away my heart, and that was worst of all
Go away from these windows, and likewise this hall

For deep in the sea you shall have your downfall!
A curse on you, mother, and my curse has been swore

For I dreamed my fairest Maid was calling at my door
Oh lie down, you foolish one, oh lie down and sleep

'Tis long ago her golden locks were drowned in the deep!
Go saddle me my best black horse, the brown and the bay

Go saddle me the best horse in my stable this day
I will range over valleys, over mountains I'll ride

'Til I find my fairest Maid, and stand by her side!
*
#62
LATIN CHRISTMAS CAROLS
Silent Night
Silens Nox, sacra nox,

Omne est lux, omne est pax,
Circum matrum et puerum,
Infans sacer, O beate,
Dormi in pace quieta.
Silens Nox, sacra nox,

Pastores nunc adorant.
Gloriae ex stellis veniunt,
Angeli "Alleluiah" cantant.
Christus Salvator adest.
O Come All Ye Faithful
Adeste fideles,
Laeti triumphantes;
Venite, venite in Bethlehem;
Natum videte
Regem angelorum,
Venite adoramus (3 times)
Dominum.
Cantet nunc "Io",

Chorus angelorum
Cantet nunc aula caelestium
Gloria, gloria
In excelsis Deo
Venite adoramus (3 times)
Dominum.
Jingle Bells
Nivens glacies, nox puertia

Risus decet nunc decent carmina
Laetes iuvet nos ire per agros
Traha fert velociter, cachinemus nos.
Tinniat, tinniat tintinnabulum
Labimur in glacie post mulum curtum.
O Little Town of Bethlehem
O parve vice Bethlehem,

Quam tacitus iaces.
Super somnum stellae tuum
Volvuntur silentes.
Sed noctus in tenebris
Aeterna lux splendet
Iam temporum spes omnium
Curaque in te manet.
*
#63
*
LORD OF THE DANCE

-Gwyddion PenDderwyn, Amy Falkowitz, Ann Case, Len Rosenberg
recorded by Joe Bethancourt
"Celtic Circle Dance"
She danced on the water, and the wind was Her horn
The Lady laughed, and everything was born
And when She lit the sun and its' light gave Him birth
The Lord of the Dance first appeared on the Earth
(Chorus): Dance, dance, where ever you may be

I am the Lord of the Dance, you see!
I live in you, and you live in Me
And I lead you all in the Dance, said He!
I danced in the morning when the World was begun

I danced in the Moon and the Stars and the Sun
I was called from the Darkness by the Song of the Earth
I joined in the Song, and She gave Me the Birth!
I dance in the Circle when the flames leap up high

I dance in the Fire, and I never, ever, die
I dance in the waves of the bright summer sea
For I am the Lord of the wave's mystery
I sleep in the kernel, and I dance in the rain

I dance in the wind, and thru the waving grain
And when you cut me down, I care nothing for the pain;
In the Spring I'm the Lord of the Dance once again!
I dance at the Sabbat when you dance out the Spell

I dance and sing that everyone be well
And when the dancing's over do not think that I am gone
To live is to Dance! So I dance on, and on!
I see the Maidens laughing as they dance in the Sun

And I count the fruits of the Harvest, one by one
I know the Storm is coming, but the Grain is all stored
So I sing of the Dance of the Lady, and Her Lord:
The Horn of the Lady cast its' sound 'cross the Plain
The birds took the notes, and gave them back again
Till the sound of Her music was a Song in the sky
And to that Song there is only one reply:
The moon in her phases, and the tides of the sea

The movement of the Earth, and the Seasons that will be
Are the rhythm for the dancing, and a promise thru the years
That the Dance goes on thru all our joy, and tears
We dance ever slower as the leaves fall and spin

And the sound of the Horn is the wailing of the wind
The Earth is wrapped in stillness, and we move in a trance,
But we hold on fast to our faith in the Dance!
* more *
#64
Lord Of The Dance (Cont.)
The sun is in the southland and the days grow chill

And the sound of the horn is fading on the hill
'Tis the horn of the Hunter, as he rides across the plain
And the Lady sleeps 'til the Spring comes again
The Sun is in the Southland and the days lengthen fast

And soon we will sing for the Winter that is past
Now we light the candles and rejoice as they burn
And we dance the Dance of the Sun's return!
They danced in the darkness and they danced in the night

They danced on the Earth, and everything was light
They danced out the Darkness and they danced in the Dawn
And the Day of that Dancing is still going on!
I gaze on the Heavens and I gaze on the Earth

And I feel the pain of dying, and re-birth
And I lift my head in gladness, and in praise
For the Dance of the Lord, and His Lady gay
I dance in the stars as they whirl throughout space

And I dance in the pulse of the veins in your face
No dance is too great, no dance is too small,
You can look anywhere, for I dance in them all!
*
#65
LOVER'S HEART
-Andy Stewart
Phil Cunningham
recorded by Silly Wizard
"A Glint of Silver"
copyright 1986 Bracken Music Services
Am G Am7 C Dm Dm7 F F-G

She was in the flowery garden when first she caught my eye
Am G Am7 C Dm7 G
and I just a marching soldier; she smiled as I passed by
Dm Em Am C C Am Dm E
the flowers she held were fresh and fair, her lips were full and red
Am G C Am Dm7 G7 C
and as I passed that shady bower, these words to me she said
C G C Am
last night we spoke of love
C Am Dm E
now we're forced to part
Am G C Am
you leave to the sound of a marching drum
Dm7 G7 C
and the beat of a lover's heart
She was by the shore in the evening when next I saw my dear
running barefoot by the water side, she called as I drew near
the sunlight glanced at the water's edge making fire of her auburn hair
my young heart danced at her parting words that hung in the evening air
(chorus)
She was on the Strand next morning when orders came to sail
and as we slipped our ropes away I watched her from the rail
she threw me a rose, which fell between us, and floated on the Bay
and as our ship pulled from the shore, I heard her call and say
(chorus)
Now the soldier's life won't suit me, sweet music is my trade
for I'd rather melt the hardest heart than pierce it with a blade
Let the time be short till I return to my home in the mountains high
and the loving girl who stole my heart with these words as I passed by
(chorus)
*
#66
*
MADIERA,M'DEAR
- Michael Flanders and Donald Swann
* recorded by the Limelighters,
Electra Records LPM 2272 "Tonight:In Person"
She was young, she was pure, she was new, she was NICE
she was fair, she was Sweet Seventeen.
He was old, he was vile, and no stranger to Vice
he was Bad, he was Base, he was Mean....
He had slyly inviegled her up to his flat
to view his collection of.....stamps ( all un-perforated...)
and he said as he hastened to put out the cat
the wine, his cigar.....and the lamps:
"Have some Madiera, m'dear.....
it's ever so much nicer than Beer!
I don't care for Sherry, and one cannot drink Stout,
and Port is a wine I can well do without!
( Actually it's a case of 'Chacun a son GOUT....')
Have some Madiera, m'dear?"
She sipped it, she drank it, she drained it, she did!
He slyly re-filled it again,
and he said, as he secretly carved one more notch
on the butt of his gold-handled cane....
"Have some Madiera, m'dear?
I have a small cask of it here...
and once it's been opened, well, you know it won't keep,
DO finish it up; it will help you to...sleep...."
"Have some Madiera, m'dear?
You really have nothing to fear..
Now if it were Gin you'd do wrong to say 'yes'
the Evil Gin Does would be hard to assess...
(and, besides, it's inclined to affect my Prowess....)
Have some Madiera, m'dear?"
Then there flashed thru her mind what her mother had said
with her ante-pen-ultimate breath:
"Oh, my child, should you gaze on the Wine When 'Tis Red:
BE PREPARED FOR A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH!"
She let go the glass with a shy little cry ( eek! )
Crash! Tinkle! it fell to the floor
When he said: "What in Heaven?" She made no reply
but took off in a dash for the door!
"Have some Madiera, m'dear?"
Rang out down the hall, loud and clear
in a tremulous voice that was filled with Despair
as she paused to take breath in the cool, midnite air...
"Have some Madiera, m'dear?......"

The words seemed to ring in her ear......
Until the next morning she woke up, in bed
with a smile on her lips, and an ache in her head....
and a BEARD at her earlobe which * tickled *, and said:
"Have some Madiera, m'dear???????"
*
#67
*
MAD MAUDLIN
-Traditional
To find my Tom of Bedlam,

then thousand years I'll travel
Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes,
to save her shoes from gravel
Yet will I sing bonny boys, bonny mad boys,

Bedlam boys are bonny
O they all go bare and they live by the air
And they want no drink nor money
I now repent that ever

Poor Tom was so disdained
My wits are lost since him I crost
Which makes me go thus chained
My staff hath murder'd Gyants

My bag a long Knife carries
To cut Mince-Pies from Children's Thighs
With which I'll feast the Fairies
My horn is made of Thunder,

I stole it out of Heav'n
The Rainbow there is this I wear
For which I thence was driv'n
I went to Pluto's Kitchen

To beg some food one morning
And there I got Souls piping hot
With which the spits were turning
Then took I up a Cauldron

Where boyl'd Ten Thousand Harlots
T'was full of Flame yet I drank the same
To the Health of all such Varlets
A Spirit hot as Lightning

Did in that Journey guide me
The Sun did shake and the pale Moon quake
As soon as e'er they spi'd me
And now that I have gotten

a Lease than Doomsday longer
To live on Earth with some in Mirth
Ten Whales shall feed my Hunger
No Gipsie Slut or Doxy

shall win my Mad Tom from me
We'll weep all night and with Stars Fight
The Fray shall well become me
And when that I have beaten

the Man i'th' Moon to a Powder
His Dog I'll take and him I'll make
As could no Daemon louder
#68
Mad Maudlin (cont.)
A health to Tom of Bedlam

Go fill the seas in Barrels
I'll drink it all well brew'd with Gall
and Maudlin drunk I'll quarrel
MAMAS, DON'T LET YOUR BABIES GROW UP TO BE VIKINGS

- Words by Morric Haast
(c) 1984 by William Ritchie
( sung to the obvious tune )
C F
Vikings are easy to find, but they're hard to survive;
G C
They'd rather tear out your throat that leave you alive.
C
Long, greasy pigtails, and dirty old tunics,
F
and some town is burning today;
G
After they've robbed you and raped your poor wife,
C
They'll prob'ly just sail away.
<Chorus>
C F
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be Vikings,
G
Don't let 'em sail longships and crack people's heads,
C
Let 'em be farmers or shepherds instead.
C F
Mamas, don't let you babies grow up to be Vikings,
G
Cause they'll rape and they'll pillage, from village to village,
C
Even when they're still at home.
(NOTE: modulate up one full tone)
Vikings like smokey old mead halls, and burned Christian bodies;
Fjords in the morning, and trollops who put up a fight;
Them that don't know 'em, won't live long, and them that do
Sometimes don't know who they're after;
They're mean and they're vicious, though no one knows why,
And they're sneaky but not too damn bright.
Author's Note:
(If you think the second verse is awkward, listen to the original!)
*
#69
MEN OF GARLIC
-Robert L. Plunkett
copyright 1987 R.L.Plunkett
-tune: "Men of Harlech"
Men of Garlic, heads so hollow

Where they go the smell must follow
With their drugs and with their Gallo,
Wine, drugs, port and bheer!
See them wear, as is their habit,
Men's bikinis made of rabbit
Showing off ten yards of flab, it
Doesn't quite endear!
See their boasting blunder!
Like a rolling thunder!
Watch them press against a dress,
And whisper: "Lady, I was born to plunder!"
Tell them that their smell is evil,
They'll answer: "Hygiene's not medieval!"
As they cause a small UPheaval....
Every time they're near!
MENTION MY NAME IN.........

-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "Mention My Name In Sheboygan")
Mention my name in West Kingdom

It's the greatest little Kingdom in the world
I know a girl there you'll simply adore!
She was Miss Crown-Craver back in AS 4! (So)
Mention my name in West Kingdom
And if you ever get in a mess
Mention my name, (I said)
Mention my name,
But don't you mention my adress!
Mention my name to the Dark Horde

They're the greatest bunch of Mongols in the world
I know the big shots inside the yurt walls
We sing "Tomorrow" in their revel halls! (So)
Mention my name to the Dark Horde
Ardjukk and Cherie and Tagan,
Mention my name,
But don't you tell 'em where I am!
Mention my name at the Snake Pit

They're the greatest little bunch in the world
I told the KaKhan he'd really go far!
I even gave the Noyan an exploding cigar! (So)
Mention my name at the Snake Pit
Yang and Bork and all of the rest,
Mention my name,
But don't you mention my adress!
*
#70
*
M'LADY (THE FUBBA WUBBA SONG)

(Tune: "They Call the Wind Maria")
Away out here they have a name for even the Ump that's Wuggly
But the last word in Awfulness, M'Lady, you're The Ugly!
M'Lady, M'Lady, they call the pigs M'Lady!
Before I knew M'Lady's name and heard her constant whinin'

I thought all girls were beautiful and the sun was always shinin'
Then one day, M'Lady came, and stopped the clocks from tickin'
she curdled milk, aborted cows, and stopped my stamps from stickin'!
(chorus)
Away out here they have a name for everything worth seein'
but if M'Lady looks at you, then soon you will be fleein'
M'Lady disappeared one day, and that for sure is scary

she was the result of experiments by a deranged Vetinary!
(chorus)
*
THE MEDICI'S FAVORITE THINGS

-Ed Zdrojewski
(Tune: "My Favorite Things")
Dissecting puppies and torturing kittens

Strangling Venetians wearing black velvet mittens
Booby-trapped packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things.
Twelve grams of strychnine in crisp apple strudels

Cyanide spicing for hot buttered noodles
Catching young sparrows and breaking their wings
CHORUS: Such diversions!

Such perversions!
When I'm feeling sad
I simply start plotting a murder or three
And then I don't feel so bad.
Garroting girls with their blue satin sashes

Whips to administer thirty-nine lashes
Bombs that go boom when you push down the spring
*
#71
THE MONGOL/BURGHER DUET

-Einar Lutemaker
(tune: "Temperance Union")
Citizen: They're coming, they're coming, the dread Mongol Horde

From Asia to Europe, they've put to the sword
Our warriors, our children, the friends we hold dear
And then they just smile when we greet them with fear!
CHORUS 1: Oh dear, oh dear, it's Ghengis Khan

It's Ghengis Khan, it's Ghengis Khan
Oh dear, oh dear, it's Ghengis Khan
The foe of all civilized ways!
Mongol: You do not bug Mongols, for Mongols bug back!

And no one can live thru a Mongol attack!
Oh can you imagine a grislier death,
Than telling a Mongol that he's got bad breath?
CHORUS 2: Hooray, hooray for Ghengis Khan!

For Ghengis Khan, for Ghengis Khan!
Hooray, hooray for Ghengis Khan,
The foe of all civilized ways!
Citizen: Oh, Mongols will pillage, they'll rape and they'll burn
Their habits are such as to make stomachs turn
The bastards keep coming, the world's over run
They're the worst that we've seen since Attila the Hun!
CHORUS 1
Mongol: We Mongols are really a marvelous folk

We laugh and we sing and we wench and we joke
What matter if chag'ua must die for the jest?
All peoples have humor at which they're the best!
CHORUS 2
Both: The Mongols are moving to ravage the west

For plunder and pillage are what they know best
Except raising yaks, but them, yaks have one fault...
The Khan can't store yaks safe in his treasure vault!
CHORUS 3: The tribes of the Mongols are getting bored

Are getting bored, are getting bored,
And soon will be riding with spear and sword
To conquer all civilized lands!
*
#72
THE MONGOLS ARE A FUNNY RACE

-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "Madamoiselle From Armetieres")
The Mongols are a funny race: The Mongols are a funny race,
So are you! It is true!
They hold the Kingdom in distaste, They always will be in your face!
It is true! It is true!
Their dispositions are rather mean; Try to run them out of town;
Their verses tend to be unclean! They'll burn yer goddam castle down!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!
They make their chiefest pleasure still Their ladies tend to carry knives!
So they do, So they do!
To do the KaKhan's evil will Daughters, girlfriends, even wives!
All over you! So they do!
And when they're given no indication Leave 'em alone, you silly fool,
They use their own imagination! Or they will take your family jewels!
When the Mongols they did see The Mongols in your Barony
First time thru, Enjoy the view!
The Middle Kingdom climbed a tree! There's more of them than you can see!
Two sword-brothers and KaKhan Yang, They're not looking to burn your town,
They thought it was a biker gang! All they want is "lebensraum!"
Now Yang's no longer with the Horde The Spider Clan is in your town
Sad, but true! It is true!
But Middle Kingdom's never bored There's ninjas lurking all around!
It is true! Listening to you!
With Tuchux, Mongols and Moritu Every time you make a plan
The Kingdoms don't know what to do! The Dark Horde has it "in the can!"
The Horde has met in Kurultai The Warlord doesn't say too much;
They spoke of you! (thought you knew!)
They've raised a mighty battle cry! Just sits and drinks a lot of his
HO! WATSU! Tullimore Dew!
They're marching out with cool aplomb They say that he's unscrupulous,
It's rumored that they have THE BOMB! Vicious, mean and venomous!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (2)
The Noyen is an old, old man The Gur-Khan is a crazy fool

It is true! Thought you knew!
He drinks his whiskey from a can He never went to Sunday School
Experience and treachery When you meet him on the field
Will win o'er youth and bravery! You takes your choice: you die or yield!
(more...*sigh*)
#73
The Mongols Are A Funny Race (Cont.)
Ioseph is a Cavalier The Mongols are an awful group

He never touches wine or beer They're dropping poison in the soup!
It is true! Just for you!
TarKhan of the White Oak boys, They burn, then rape by firelight
Gunpowder weapons are their toys! Their table manners are a fright!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (1) Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (2)
Their ninjas work so very well Everybody likes Ardjukk,

So they do! So do you!
They don't wear no damn turtle shells You won't give him a second look,
They can turn up anywhere, You would be Afraid-of-His-Cats
They know the brand of your underwear! If you had kitties just like THAT!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (2) Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!
Red Cherie's a lovely girl, Tamara doesn't say a lot

It is true! To me or you!
A cute and cuddly precious pearl, She is great in a Mongol Plot!
It is true! So she do!
You know what they say about red-heads? Don't sneak up on her because
You piss her off, you wind up dead! She sure don't live in the Land of Oz
Unca Wu's a funny guy There's Mongols underneath your bed!

He makes the ladies blink and sigh Writing down the things you said!
It's TWUE! It's TWUE! It is true!
He talks just like Diogenes We heard you gasp & moan & howl!
And then goes swinging thru the trees! (We know all about the owl!)
Samak is down with PMS There's Mongols on the Royal Court!

The Kingdom is in great distress! They've given us a full report!
Too, too true! About you!
He's looking for to take your life The Crown's uneasy on your head
That's why he's called Samak the Knife! We've even wired the Royal Bed!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (1) Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!
Given a choice, the Horde will choose The Spider Clan, somewhere out there,
This is true! Is out there too!
Irish songs and Irish booze! Riding thru the desert air,
So would you! So they do!
A Celtic Mongol is a sight Their weapons glitter in the sun:
To make you lose your sleep at night! Swords and knives...and Tommy guns!
There's Mongols marching day and night The Mongols have a lot of songs
Right at you! Too, too true!
They're spoiling for a good old fight! They will sing them all night long!
It is true! About you!
They're marching out with flags unfurled If they don't run out of breath
Today your Kingdom, TOMORROW THE WORLD! They will sing you half to death!
(more....Gawd!)
#74
The Mongols Are A Funny Race (Cont.)
Duncan is a canny Scot This song can go on and on

No one knows what he has got And on and on and on and on
Even you! So it do!
He uses knives with speed and skill't And on and on and on and on
His "heavy" weapon's beneath his kilt! And on and on and on and on!
Aleta is a fair young maid Petruccio is an Italian flirt

Of her you ought to be afraid Chasing after every skirt
I tell you true! So he do!
Little and pretty and cute and clean If he gets you all alone
And evil and vicious and bad and mean! Just holler for Ronna and throw him
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! a bone!
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you!
The Mongols are a funny race
It is true! The Mongols think the Horde is great
They think the Kingdom's a disgrace So they do!
It is true! They've learned how to communicate
If you think they're speaking treason, It is true!
Not -yet-, m'boy, it's out of season! They're all linguists, don't you see
Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (3) They speak "Treason"....fluently!
Tomorrow belongs to me, NOT YOU!
1) Ardjukk Afraid-Of-His-Cats 2) Samak the Knife 3) Anonymous

#75
I'M A MONGOL DOODLE DANDY!

-Ioseph of Locksley
(c) copyright 1990 W.J,.Bethancourt III
(Tune: "Yankee Doodle Dandy")
I'm a Mongol doodle dandy,

A vicious and disgusting kinda guy!
A real Swordbrother to my Uncle Yang
Born at the first Kurultai!
I have a little Celtic sweetheart
She's my Mongol pride and joy!
Oh, Ghengis Khan he went to Europe
Just to have a party!
I am a happy Mongol boy!
I'm a Mongol doodle dandy,

Riding the Gobi wild and free!
Grass never grows again where my horse treads,
I'm free from the Kingdom's tyranny!
I loot and burn for entertainment,
And laugh at the Kingdom's hoi polloi!
Oh, Ghengis Khan he went to Europe
Just to have a party!
I am a happy Mongol boy!
*
#76
"THE MONGOLS SLEEP TONIGHT"

-Yehudah
-Ioseph of Locksley
(c) 1990 W. J. Bethancourt III
(tune: "Wimoweh" aka "The Lion Sleeps Tonight")
Near the village, the peaceful village, the Mongols creep tonight.
Near the village, the quiet village, the Mongols creep tonight.
CHORUS: bass: the Mongol Horde, the Mongol Horde, the Mongol Horde, etc.
soprano: Yang! Yang! Yang! Yang! etc.
non-singers: creative screaming as they deem appropriate
(The full effect is unable to be described in print...in any

language)
In the village, the Mongols pillage, kill everything in sight.

In the village, take sheep and foodage, leave nothing, not a bite.
CHORUS: as above
(It really defys description!!)
In the Kingdom, the peaceful Kingdom, the Mongols plot tonight!

In the Kingdom, the quiet Kingdom, the ninjas creep tonight!
CHORUS: as above
(It's really quite awful, you know!)
*
#77
THE MUSKETEER'S SONG

-Tamara fitzGloustre of the White Boar
with additions by Ioseph of Locksley
-tune: "Mouseketeer's Song"
Who's the leader of the troop that's made for me and thee?
He who hands the muskets out: Good old King Louis!
Zounds! Gadzooks! Well Met, Lads! Fill your tankards up with me!
And toast His Grace who sets the pace: Good old King Louis!
(Chorus): Musketeers! ( Cardinal's Guards! )

Musketeers! ( Cardinal's Guards! )
Forever we defend the Fleur-de-Lis!
(Thrust! Parry! Thrust!)
Bring a sword and spit a Lord who works for Du Plessis;

Give a hand to Good Queen Anne, wife to King Louis!
Cavaliers and Roundheads, sing this song along with me:

Cheers for Athos, Porthos, D'Artagnan and Aramis!
(Chorus)
deBergerac had quite a knack, and so, m'lads, have we!

So drink 'em down and set 'em up for good old King Louis!
Sharpen up your rapiers and put on your foppery,

And raise your voices to the skies and sing in harmony:
(Chorus)
(Slowly, with lechery:)
Come you here, my pretty Maid, and sit upon my knee.........
C-A-V ("V" is for VICTORY!)

A-L-I (I'm for France! (or England, or Cromwell, or Myself...&c.)
E--R--S!
*
#78
MY LOVE, MY LOVE: YOU BROKE MY HEART

-William of the Shire -Ioseph of Locksley
copyright 1971, 1989 W.J.Bethancourt III
Am B7 Am G Am E7 Am
My love, my love, you broke my heart; I'm off to join the Wars
Am B7 Am G Am E7 Am A
I'm off to free the Holy Land from Saracens and Moors.
D A D D6 E7
And if you ever loved me dear, prepare my plot and stone
Am B7 Am G Am E7 A
Turn loose my hawks and hunting hounds: I'll not be riding home.
Prepare the funeral hatchment around my blazon bright

Go tell the Priest to sing the Mass; make restful my Soul's night
And if you ever loved me dear, prepare my plot and stone
Turn loose my hawks and hunting hounds: I'll not be riding home.
I cannot live with broken heart; the wound you gave will kill.
And Death's cold hand is on my Soul, I feel his awful chill.
My Destiny lies on the Field, in months, or days, or years....
And if you never loved me dear, shed not your lying tears.
*
#79
NOBODY'S SQUIRE NOW

(Words: Brynna of Aelfstanbury)
(Tune: "Nobodys Maugey")
Somebody's Squire By The Side Of The Field

Somebody's Squire Who Held When He Should Yield
Someones Favorite Red Belt Got Knocked Clean Out Of Sight
When He Ran On To The Field And Offered Challenge To A Knight
Yesterday He Fought And Slayed In His Fighter's Paradise

Smashing Shields And Bashing Helms And Never Thinking Twice
Now He's Nothing But A Pile Of Scrap That Don't Smell Very Nice
He's Nobody's Squire Now
Now You That Have A Squire, Be Sure To Hold Him In

Don't Let Him Argue With A Knight, That Knight Is Bound To Win
And If On The Tourney Field, You Let Him Run Amuck
Well My Friend, I'm Warning You, He'll Be S*&% Out Of Luck
If You Let Him Take Bearkiller On, I'm Afraid That Will Be That
You'll Hear One Last Beserker Yell, Then A Loud Resounding Splat
And Your Squire Will Be Slightly Dead And Very, Very Flat
He's Nobody's Squire (And He'll Never Get No Higher)
He's Nobody's Squire Now
*
#80
NOTTAMUN TOWN
-Traditional
In Nottamun Town, in Nottamun Town

Not a soul would look up not a soul would look down
Not a soul would look up, not a soul would look down
To show me the way to fair Nottamun Town
I bought me a horse t'was called a grey mare

Grey mane and grey tail and green stripe on her back
Grey mane and grey tail and green stripe on her back
Weren't a hair upon her that was not coal black
She stood so still threw me to the dirt

She tore at my hide, she bruised my shirt
From saddle to stirrup I mounted again
and on my ten toes I rode over the plain
When I got there no one did I see

they all stood around me just looking at me
i called for a cup to drive gladness away
And stifle the dust for it rained the whole day
And the King and the Queen and the company more
Came a riding behind and a walking before
Come a stark naked drummer beating a drum
With his hands in his bosom came marching along
Sat down on a hard hot cold frozen stone

Ten thousand stood round me but I was alone
Took my heart in my hand to keep myself warm
Ten thousand was drowned that never was born
*
#81
NUDE
-Ioseph of Locksley
-Aengus MacEdwin
copyright 1982 W.J.Bethancourt III and Ed Hirt
(Tune: "Men of Harlech")
What the use of wearing panties

whalebone corsets of your Auntie's
boxer shorts and other scanties
best of all is nude
there's such fun in going bra-less
now that it's no longer lawless
'specially if your figure's flawless
best of all is nude
nude is what you're born in
shirts are never torn in
underwear and lacy flimsies, garter belts and other whimsies
yards of itchy cloth to put your form in
ducks all do it, maidens rue it
even ancient Picts in Britain blue it
going naked's how to do it
best of all is nude!
If your garters aren't elastic

tie them up in knots fantastic
(panty hose is something drastic!)
If you're tired of wearing clotheses
shed your garment 'mongst the roses
never mind the old bluenoses
Nude is best for ducking!
Worst for horses bucking!
Moonlit nights will see such sights
that are very best for fooling round
.....and elbows!
Nudity is grand to see
a well-known antidote to virginity
take your clothes off and you'll see:
*
#82
*
OH MY LADYE
-Ioseph of Locksley copyright 1989 W. J. Bethancourt III
(Tune: Lizzie Lindsay (Child #226)
Will y'gang t'the Hielands, Oh, my Lady?

Will y'gang t'the Hielands wi' me?
Will y'gang t'the Hielands, oh my Lady?
M'bride and m'bonnie t'be?
I'll no gang to t'Hielands wi you, sir

I dinna ken how that may be
For I ken nae the Land that y'live in
Nor dowry y'may give t'me
Oh, m'lady it be y'ken little

If y'dinna ken me
For my name is the great Laird of Locksley
A Chieftain of high degree
For dowry, I give you the whole of

the earth, and the sea and the sky
and the Road along with me t'travel
and the love of a Bard such as I
She has kilted her coats of green satin

She has kilted them up t'her knee
and she's off w'the great Laird of Locksley
His bride and his darlin' tae be!

Will y'gang t'the Hielands wi me?
My bride and my bonnie t'be?
*
*
O-L-A-F!
-Ioseph of Locksley
(tune: "L-O-L-A")
Met him on the shore at Lindesfarne

He burn down the monastery just to keep himself warm
That Olaf!
O-L-A-F, Olaf! (&c)
Caught him with a gerbil in a satin dress

Doing things that I won't confess,
That Olaf! (&c)
Olaf spent the night with the Seneshale,

Woke up in the morning looking "slightly mauled!"
That Olaf! (&c)
*
#83
O-R-L-OP!
-Ioseph of Locksley
(tune: "L-O-L-A")
Met him on the shore at Lindesfarne

He burn down the monastery just to keep himself warm
That Orlop!
O-R-L-OP, Orlop! (&c)
Went to Kurultai one day

Brought a bag full of ch'agua ears, they say,
That Orlop! (&c)
He's a good seeing-eye child we find

Him escorting Buell the Kind,
That Orlop! (&c)
PARCEL OF MONGOLS
-Mike Stein
-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "Parcel of Rogues In A Nation")
Farewell to all our Royal hoards

Farewell to all our treasure
Farewell to all our strong steel swords
That we won at our pleasure,
Now the battlefield is deadly hot
There's talk of abdication!
And we know no way our skins to save
Such a parcel of Mongols in a nation!
What wrath or breath could not subdue

Through many bold adventures
Are brought down now by a Mongol crew
By awesome force of numbers,
Fubba-Wubbas' ire we could disdain;
Ignoring condemnation!
But ten thousand Mongols are our bane!
Oh, would ne'er I had seen the day

That turkeys so would kill us...
The Dark Horde it has won the day
With freedom's vile bacillus!
But wrath and ire 'til I expire
I will make this declaration
The BoD doth smell to heaven and hell!
*
PLUNDERER'S THEME
(tune: "Supercalifragilistic...etc.)
Pillage, rape and loot and burn, but all in moderation

If you do the things we say, then you'll soon rule the nation!
Kill your foes and enemies, and then kill their relations!
Pillage, rape and loot and burn, but all in moderation!
#84
QUEEN ELANOR'S CONFESSION

(Child #156)
recorded by the Chad Mitchell Trio
Queen Elanor was a sick woman

And afraid that she would die
So she sent for two Friars out of France
To come to her speedilye
When the King he heard that the Queen had sent

For Friars from over the Sea
He called on his noble Earl Marshal
To come to him speedily
Do you put on one Friar's coat

And I'll put on another
And we shall to Queen Elanor go
One Friar's much like another!
"Oh God forbid," said the Earl Marshal

"That such a thing should be!
For if I should beguile, and damn the Queen,
Then hanged I might be!"
Then the king he swore upon his Oath,

his Sceptre and his Crown,
That whatsoever Queen Elanor said
He would not write it down
So they rode on, and they rode on

Till they came to Whitehall
The bells did ring, and the Choristers sing
And the torches did light withal
"Be you two Friars of France," she said

"As I suppose you be?
For if you be two English Friars
Then hanged I may be!"
"We are two Friars from France," they said,

"As you suppose we be;
And we have not been at any Mass
Since we came over the Sea!"
"The very first sin that ever I did

To you I will unfold:
Earl Marshall had my maidenhead
Underneath this cloth of gold.."
"That is a vile sin," said the King,

"May God forgive it thee.."
"Amen, Amen!" quoth Earl Marshall
With a heavy, heavy heart quoth he!
"The next vile sin that ever I did

To you I'll not deny:
I brewed a pot of poison strong
To poison King Henrye.."
* more *
#85
Queen Elanor's Confession (Cont.)

"May God forgive it thee.."
"Amen, Amen!" quoth Earl Marshall,
"I wish it so might be!"
"The very next sin that ever I did

To you I will discover:
I poisoned Fair Rosamonde
All in the Woodstock bower.."

"May God forgive it thee..."
"Amen, Amen!" quoth Earl Marshal
"I wish it so might be!"
"Do you see yonder little child

A-tossing of that ball?
That is Earl Marshal's son," she said,
"And I love him the best of all!"
"And do you see yonder little child

a-catching of that ball?
That is King Henry's son," she said,
"And I love him the worst of all!"
"His head is like unto an Ox

His nose is like a Boar..."
"No matter for that," King Henry said,
"I love him the better therefore!"
Then the King threw off his Friar's coat

Appeared all in red
She weeped, she cried, she wrung her hands,
She said she'd been betrayed!
Then the King turned to his Earl Marshal,

And a grim look looked he,
And he said: "Earl Marshal, but for my Oath,
Then hanged you would be!"
*
#86
RENFESTIE
-Jane Rogge Fredericksen
-copyright 1990 Jane Rogge Fredericksen
(tune: "Wild Rover")
I've been a RenFestie for many a year

And I've spent all my time pulling hay from my beer
But now I'm returning for still more abuse
With my boots far too tight, and my tights far too loose
(CHORUS) And it's no, nay, never

No, nay, never, no more
Will I ever be normal?
No, never, no more
I went to auditions to show them my stuff

And was told the artistic director was tough
I asked for a contract - He answered me, "Nay!
We've got junior high kids who will work for no pay!"
So I pulled from my pocket my tinwhistle bright

And I loudly played "Greensleeves" 'til he cried with fright
"All right, you'll have staging. Just please let me be!
Play off by the privies in area C."
So now I'm a Festie, confessin' I lack

Complete understanding of why I go back
With the drunks and the mashers and whackos who do....
And the audience even gets kinda wierd too!
This makes a good singalong. If you are one of the variant bunches that
sings Wild Rover with four sharp claps after the first line of the chorus,
you may choose to add the (traditional Minnesota Renaissance Festival)
phrase "Right up your kilt!" in place of the clapping, varying it with "We
want a raise!" if the song is being sung ON site.
*
#87
*
A REPORT ON THE SPANISH EXPEDITION OF '92

-Goddwyn of Britain
-tune: "It's A Small World After All"
'Twas in fourteen hundred and ninety-two

Chris Columbus sailed 'cross the ocean blue
Didn't find what he'd planned,
So he told Ferdinand
It's a New World after all!
It's a New World after all (3x)

It's a Brand New World!
So it isn't India - we won't get spice,

They have things there, King, that are just as nice!
There's a spring there, forsooth,
Called the Fountain of Youth!
In that New World, after all!
It's a New World after all,

And it's round just like a ball!
That Italian showed 'em all!
It's a Brave New World!
It's a world of treasure, a World to gain!

It's a world of riches, and all for Spain!
It'll be oh so fine
When the Pope draws the Line!
It's a New World after all!
It's a New World, after all,

Like an Eden ere the Fall,
We won't share with Portugal!
'Cause it's Spain's New World!
Oh, the Natives are friendly as they can be,

Gave us gifts of maize, and a little VD,
And the folk, not a one,
Heard of Lief Eriksson!
So it's Spain's world after all!
Go to Spain's world, one and all,

Get there if you have to crawl!
I hear El Dorado call,
There in Spain's New World!
Oh, the Aztecs and Mayans have lots of gold,

And the Incas have more, or so we've been told,
When those far western shores
Meet the Conquistadores,
Then it's Spain's world, after all!
When it's Spain's world, after all,

Then on England soon will fall
The Armada, strong and tall,
'Cause it's Spain's New World!
*
#88
RUE
-Anonymous
-recorded by Theodore Bikel
Come, all you fair and tender girls that flourish in your prime, prime
Beware, beware, make your garden fair; let no man steal your thyme, thyme
Let no man steal your thyme.
For when your thyme is past and gone he'll care no more for you, you
And every day that your garden is waste will be spread o'er with rue, rue
Will be spread o'er with rue.
A woman is a branched tree, and Man a singing wind, wind

And from her branches, carelessly, he'll take what he can find, find
He'll take what he can find.
*
#89
THE SCA HAPPY BIRTHDAY SONG

tune: "Volga Boatmen"
Happy Birthday! (UHH!) Happy Birthday! (UHH!)

Death and gloom and black despair
People dying everywhere
Happy Birthday! (UHH!) Happy Birthday! (UHH!)
Now you are the age you are Fear and gloom and darkness but
Your demise cannot be far no one found out YOU KNOW WHAT
May the candles on your cake You're a period cook, its true
burn like cities in your wake ask the beetles in the stew
Burn the Castle and storm the keep Now your jail-bait days are done
Kill the Women but SAVE THE SHEEP! let's go out and have some fun!
May your deeds with sheep and yaks You must marry very soon
equal those with sword and axe baby's due the next full moon
Your servants steal, your wife's untrue Were I sitting in your shoes
Your children plot to murder you I'd go out and sing the blues
They stole your gold, your sword, your house Tho you're turning 29
They stole your sheep, but not your spouse age to you is like fine wine
so you're 29 again Now you've lived another year

don't tell lies to your good friend age to you is like stale beer
So another year has passed Long ago your hair turned grey
don't look now they're gaining fast! now it's falling out, they say
Black Death has just struck your town It's your birthday never fear
you yourself feel quite run-down You'll be dead this time next year
We brought linen, white as cloud See the wrinkles on your face

Now we'll sit and sew your shroud! Like the pattern of fine lace
So far death you have bypassed Indigestion's what you get

Don't look back it's gaining fast From the enemies you 'et
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
*
#90
THE SEVEN JOYS OF MARY

-recorded by The Silly Sisters
The first good joy that Mary had, it was the joy of One
To see Our Saviour, Jesus Christ, when he was first Her Son!
(Chorus): When He was first Her Son, good man, and blessed may He be!
With Father, Son and Holy Ghost thru all Eternity!
The next good joy that Mary had, it was the joy of Two
To see Her own Son, Jesus Christ, to make the lame to go!
To make the lame to go, good man, and blessed ...etc.
The next good joy that Mary had, it was the joy of Three
To see Her own Son, Jesus Christ, to make the blind to see!
The next good joy that Mary had, it was the joy of Four
To see Her own Son, Jesus Christ, to read the Bible o'er!
The next good joy that Mary had, it was the joy of Five
To see Her own Son, Jesus Christ, to bring the dead alive!
The next good joy that Mary had, it was the joy of Six
To see Her own Son, Jesus Christ, upon the Crucifix!
The last good joy that Mary had, it was the joy of Seven
To see Her own Son, Jesus Christ, to wear the Crown of Heaven!
*
#91
THE SHAKING OF THE SHEETS

"Tempted & Tried" Shanachie 64020
CHORUS: Dance, dance, the shaking of the sheeets

Dance, dance, when you hear the piper
Playing, everyone must dance
The shaking of the sheets with me.
Bring away the beggar, bring away the King

And every man in his degree.
Bring away the oldest, and the youngest thing
Come to death and follow me!
Bring away the merchant who made his money in France

And the crafty banker, too!
When you hear the piper, you and I must dance
The Dance that everyone must do!
I'll find you in the courtrooms, I'll find you in the schools
When you hear the piper play,
I'll take away the wise me, take away the fools,
And bring their bodies all to clay.
All the politicians of high and low degree,

Lords and Ladies great and small
Don't think that you'll escape, and need not dance with me
I'll make you come when I do call!
It may be in the day, it may be in the night

Prepare yourselves to dance and pray!
That when the piper plays "The Shaking of the Sheets"
You may to Heaven dance the way!
SHE MOVED THRU THE FAIRE

-Padraic Colum
recorded by Theodore Bikel
My young love said to me: My mother won't mind

And my father won't slight you for your lack of kind
She put her arms 'round me; these words she did say:
It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day!
Then she stepped away from me, and she moved thru the Faire
And so fondly I watched her move here and move there
At last she turned homeward, with one star awake
As the Swan in the evening moves over the lake.
Last night she came to me, my dead love came in

And so soft did she move that her feet made no din
She put her arms 'round me; these words she did say:
It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day!
*
#92
SILVER WHISTLE
-recorded by The Silly Sisters
Ah, who will play the Silver Whistle?

When my King's son to sea is going?
As Scotland prepares; prepares his coming!
Upon a dark ship on the ocean......
The ship it has three masts of silver

With ropes so light, of French silk woven!
So bonnie then, are six golden pulleys
To bring my King's son ashore, and landing.....
When my King's son he comes back home

No bruising stones will put before him!
Loaves of bread, bread will be baking
For Charles, with eyes so blue, enticing.......
Ah, welcome to you, Fame and Honour!

Pipes with tunes of joy attend you!
I will be dancing! I will be singing!
And I will play the Silver Whistle.............
And I will play the Silver Whistle!
*
#93
*
THE SONG OF GOLIAS

-John Meyers Meyers
copyright 1949 (from "Silverlock")
-tune by Gordon R. Dickson
I have known both joy and grief, neat, and mixed together
Cold and Heat I've known, and found both good drinking weather
Light and Darkness I have known, seldom doubting whether
Tammuz would return again, when he'd slipped his tether!
I remember gaudy days when the Year was springing

Tammuz, Gilgamesh and I, clinking Cups and singing
Till Ininni sauntered by, skimpy garments clinging
To her hips, and things like that: Tammuz left us, winging!
So we welcomed Enkidu when he came to Erech

He was rough as hickory bark, nothing of the Cleric!
But his taste in Wine and Ale, THAT was Esoteric!
And he used a drinking cup that would strain a derrick!
Khumbaba then felt our strength 'neath the magic Cedars

And we wrestled Anu's Bull, pride of Heaven's Breeders!
Thrice we struck, and once he fell, drawing wolves for feeders
while we strode where drinking men called for expert leaders.
Tammuz must have joined us there, but he'd just got wedded
And Ininni (blast the Wench!) hacked him as they bedded
Such a honeymoon as that, I have always dreaded....
For a drinking man is...spoiled...once he's been beheaded!
So we waked him with a will, ale and teardrops pooling

Then we drank to him for months, while the year was cooling.
But he came back with the grass! Death was only fooling!
Tammuz told us: "Fill my Cup! I'm both dry...and drooling!"
THE SONG OF THE HEAVIES

-Anonymous
(Tune: "Ode to Joy")
Archers make ignoble foemen

Shoot at you and run away
Goddamn motherf**king bowmen
They're the ones I love to slay
Run and chase them
Catch them and mace them
Mix them and spread them like pate'
God put bowmen here to bug me
Jeez I wish they'd go away.
*
#94
SONG OF IVANOF
-Ioseph of Locksley
There is a man who we know well that does the best he can
but he's displayed in armour made of reticulated garbage cans!
He looks so fine and fair and strong, oh how he plays the man
and how it's prized, those galvanized, reticulated garbage cans
The noblest Roman of them all, a good Praetorian

a combatant who wears no pants, just reticulated garbage cans!
Like old Horatius at the Bridge, like the Legions of Valerian

(O dearie me: those LOVELY knees!)
and
those
reticulated garbage cans!
*
#95
SONG OF THE THREE
copyright 1981 W. J. Bethancourt III and C. A. Bethancourt III
tune: the song of the Cowardly Lion, Tin Woodsman and Scarecrow
(Enter the Scarecrow, who singeth:)
My wife is always nagging; my Prowess it is lagging

I can't do anything
she has got a reason, but revenge is out of season
Oh I wish I could be King!
If I just had the Crown on, I'd always have a frown on

and the Barons on a string
Heads they would be rolling, the Board would be cajoling
Oh if only I was King!
I am very fed up with the way this group is set up

Oh I'd change everything!
they are so high and mighty with the way that they do fight-ey
Oh, someday I'll be King!
Tho my wife is melancholic, and very...vitriolic

she's a wasp without a sting!
I'd have to supervise her with a pack of tranquilizers
If I only was a King......
(the Tin Woodsman joineth him, and singeth:)
I grew up kind of cocky, and rather big, and stocky

and straight as any rod
on the field I'm a battallion, with the Ladies I'm a stallion
...Oh they'd better make me God!
The other boys are jealous they say I'm over-zealous

they'd do better to applaud
the things that I am giving to this Dream that we are living
oh I wish they'd make me God!
They say that I'm conceited, but I'm just badly treated
by people and by BoD
just think of what they're missing by My Majesty dismissing
Oh they'd better make me God!
(the Cowardly Lion creepeth forth, and singeth:)
Oh I could be a fighter, a great and mighty smiter

and be the perfect knight
it's a great and nasty shame, and everyone's to blame
oh I wish that I could fight!
I could be a Cavalier drinking wine and ale and beer

and be a gorgeous sight
but it would cost me too much money so it isn't very funny
oh I wish that I could fight!
Let me at 'em on the field, I would surely make them yield

to my Power and my Might
with rattan, shinai and rapier they would nevermore escape here
If they'd only let me fight!
(all doeth the Softe Shoe off, stage left)
#96
SONG OF THE BoD

-Ioseph of Locksley
(Tune: "God Bless England")
I'll tell you a tale of Peace and Love

whack fol the diddle o the di do day
Of those that Rule all Lands above
may Peace, and Plenty be their share
that keep our Empire in repair
God save the Directors is our prayer!
CHORUS: whack fol the diddle o the di do day

so we cry! It's no lie!
God save the Directors up on high!
When we were Sauvage, Fierce and Wilde

they came as a Mother to her childe
they gently raised us from the slime
and kept our hands from Hellishe Crime
and made us a Kingdom in their own good time
Now, Atenveldt forgets the Past

and thinks on a Day that's coming fast
when we shall all be....civilized....(puke)
neat, and clean.....and WELL-ADVISED
oh won't the Directors be....suprised?!
*
#97
THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS

-Wm. Butler Yeats
recorded by Judy Collins
I went out to the hazel - wood

Because a fire was in my head
Cut and peeled a hazel - wand
Tied a berry to a thread
And when white moths were on the wing
And moth - white stars were flickering out
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout..........
I had but laid it on the bank

And gone to blow the fire a-flame
Something rustled in the air
Something called me by my name!
It had become a glimmering Girl
With apple - blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name, and ran
And vanished in the brightening air........
Though I am old, with wandering

Thru hilly lands, and hollow lands;
I'll find out where she has gone
To seek her lips, to take her hands-
And walk thru long green dappled grass;
To pluck 'til Time, and times are done:
The Silver Apples of the Moon;
The Golden Apples of the Sun...............
*
#98
STAND UP, STAND UP FOR ODIN

-Robert Cook
tune: "Stand Up For Jesus"
Stand up! Stand up for Odin, you warriors of the beard!

lift high the Raven Banner that half the world has feared!
From Angleland to far Vinland shall sound the Warrior's Cry
Till every foe is vanquished, and Odin reigns most high!
March forth with steel flashing beneath the naked Sun

and never stand at rest again 'til all the World is won!
Let scarlet sword his symbol carve in every nation's sod
'Til every man still breathing stands up for OdinGod!
Let ships with prows of Dragons the mighty oceans cleave

and every land not Odin's our crimson gifts receive
let Raven Banners fill the sky where every man has trod
And all the soil beneath them belong to OdinGod!
Stand up! Stand up for Odin, you Warriors of the North!

With silver swords a-flashing to victory go forth!
From Angleland to far Vinland our joyous conquest lead
'Til every foe is vanquished, and Odin's Lord, indeed!
STRANGEST DREAM
recorded: CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE
WTP-0002C
Last night I had the strangest dream in this bleak century

I dreamed that people the world around believed in Chivalry
I dreamed I saw a Kingly Crown enshrined in laurel leaves

with Grace and Joy and Purity attendant at his feet
I dreamed I saw the perfect Knight receive his accolade

and minstrels sang and children laughed in some soft forest glade
I dreamed I saw the finest thing that ever man could make
grow great and strong and undefiled: Pray God I never wake!
Last night I had the strangest dream in this bleak century

I dreamed that people the world around believed in Chivalry
*
#99
THE STREETS OF ANN ARBOR

-Ioseph of Locksley
(c) 1974, 1990 W. J. Bethancourt III
(Tune: "Streets of Laredo")
As I walked out thru the streets of Ann Arbor

as I walked out thru Ann Arbor one day
I spied a young Mongol all dressed in white linen
all dressed in white linen and cold as the clay
I then spied another, done in on the sidewalk

along with just about six dozen more
their wounds were all gaping, from mace and from broadsword
from claymore and cannon, all dripping with gore
what caused this grave carnage, I cried to the Monglos

oh pray what's the reason for this awful sight
my answer came slowly from under the corpse-pile
"It seems that our bark is much worse than our bite....."
the answer continued from pale lips a-shaking

we sang all our songs and believed them as true
the Dark Horde could never be beaten in battle
we thought this was what all good Mongols could do...
we went down to Atenveldt all for to plunder

"too large to defend" was our song every night
but Atenveldt's different from East, West or Middle
there, even the bushes have learned how to bite!
the Clann stole our ponies, the Scraelings our foodstuffs

we ran into axes in AtenViking hands
our maidens ran off with one Richard of Arkham
and we're all that's left to return to our lands
MacChluarains and Monsters, Lockehaven and Foxmoor

that Kingdom is BIG and its' fighters are MEAN!
we fought and we lost, and fled back to Ann Arbor
we all came back home with results that you've seen
keep away from that Land with its' cactus and marshes
it's no place for Mongols who are bent on War
they count their blows well, but they strike them yet better
he crawled into his Yurt, and fell, dead, on the floor.....
*
#100
THE SOUND OF VIOLENCE

-Rhys ap Baruch and Blaine Sylvan
(c) 1991, Ian Klinck
(Tune: "The Sounds of Silence")
Hello broadsword my old friend

I've come to fight with you again
Because the sounds of battle ringing
In my ears has me singing
And the rock that I have instead of a brain
Still remains
I love the sounds of violence
In tournaments I fight alone

I leave my melee gear at home
But when I go down to the Pennsic War
I often fight in groups of five or more
When my friend was stabbed by an Eastern spear in the head
He was dead
Touched by the sounds of violence
A thousand footmen waging war

A hundred archers maybe more
Polemen thrusting from the second row
Shieldmen dying, they're the first to go
Two-stick fighters can harry the enemy flank
They've got rank
And love the sounds of violence
Foolishly I pressed ahead

I'd be a hero or be dead
A belted fighter tried to teach me
With his polearm he might reach me
But my blows like violent hailstones fell
And struck well
Causing the sounds of violence
Eastrealm fighters fell and died

Before th'advancing Midrealm tide
And we shouted out our battle cry
We would conquer or we would die
And the bards sing the deeds of the fighters that bravely fall
And they all
Whisper the sounds of violence
*
#101
TEXT OF A LETTER TO DRACHENWALD

(Words: Brynna of Aelfstanbury)
(Tune: "My Bonny Lies Over The Ocean")
My Lord We Have Great News To Tell You

Too Wonderful Simply To Write
While You've Been Away At The Crusades
Your Lady's Been Learning to Fight
Oh Boy, Oh Boy, She's Learning to Handle a Sword, A Sword

Oh Boy, Oh Boy, Oh What A Surprise For Her Lord
It's True She's a Delicate Creature

A Vision Of Sweetness And Light
We Know That It's Hard To Believe, But
Your Lady's Been Learning To Fight
With A Sword Of Rattan Wrapped In Duct Tape

In Armor And Helmet So Bright
You'd Better Start Practicing Quickly
Your Lady Is Learning To Fight
So Polish Up Weapons And Armor

And Hone Up Your Skills To Their Height
And Say A Few Prayers While Your At It
Your Lady Has Learned How To Fight
So This Puts An End To Carousing

No More You'll Go Wenching All Night
We're Sorry For The Inconvienence
But We've Taught Your Lady To Fight
We Know That You May Not Believe It

She Once Was So Timid And Meek
But You'd Better Get Used To It Quickly
Cause She Won Crown Tourney Last Week
So We Thought We'd Send You A Letter

And Spare You A Terrible Scene
Of Returning At Last To Your Homeland
To Find Out That You Are The Queen
*
#102
TODAY
-Anonymous
(Tune: "Today")
Today while the blossoms are all turning brown,

We'll pillage your village, we'll burn down your town.
A million tomorrows will all pass away,
Ere we forget all the joy that is ours today.
Well I'll be a Mongol and I'll be a rover,

You'll know who I am by the things that I do.
I'll laugh in the battle, I'll brag in my kumiss,
While swilling down monk's liver stew.
We're the Great Dark Horde, we're drunkenly vicious,

We'll knock up your daughters and burn down your hall.
We're rowdy, unruly, and somewhat lascivious,
And "Ho! Watsu!" is our call.
I can't be contented with yesterday's plunder.

I can't live on ransom notes winter to spring.
But show me a woman and soon she'll go under,
She'll scream and she'll cry while I sing.
*
#103
THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN

(THE DIGGERS' SONG)
-Leon Rosselson
copyright 1975 Leon Rosselson
In 1649 to St. George's Hill

A ragged band they called the Diggers came to show the people's will.
They defied the landlord, they defied the laws,
They were the dispossessed reclaiming what was theirs.
CHORUS: "We come in peace," they said, "To dig and sow,
We come to work the lands in common
And to make the waste ground grow.
This earth divided we will make whole
So it will be a common treasury for all!
The sin of property we do disdain,

No man has any right to buy and sell the earth for private gain.
By theft and murder they took the land,
Now everywhere the walls spring up at their command.
They make the laws to chain us well,

The clergy dazzle us with heaven or they damn us into hell.
We will not worship the god they serve:
The god of greed who feeds the rich while poor folk starve.
We work, we eat together, we need no swords;

We will not bow to the masters or pay rent to the lords.
Still we are free, tho' we are poor,
You Diggers all stand up for glory, stand up now!
From the men of property the orders came:

They sent the hired men and troopers to wipe out the Diggers' claim.
Tear down their cottages, destroy their corn,
They were dispersed, but still the Vision lingers on!
"You poor, take courage, you rich take care,

This earth was made a common treasury for everyone to share.
All things in common, all people one,
We come in peace..." - The order came to cut them down.
*
#104
TOMORROW BELONGS TO ME!

-Anonymous (Western Irgun version)
tune: "Tomorrow Belongs To Me" (from "Cabaret")
The sands of the Gobi lie gold in the Sun

the Warriors and Herdsmen ride free
But somewhere a voice calls: "Move on, Move on!"
Tomorrow belongs to me!
Ride westward, my children, new pastures are green

Rich cities encircle the Sea
'Tis time for your Glory, so rise, and sing:
The Outlands have grown too confused to defend

The West has her back to the Sea
The East and the Middle are weak from War
Meridies weakens from internal strife

Caid is her own enemy!
And young Ansteorra's a babe-in-arms
Ride westward my children, we'll show them a sign

United we'll always be free!
the morning shall come when the world is MINE!
Oh Father-of-Kingdoms, come, show us the sign

Your children have waited to see:
The morning shall come when the World is MINE!
*
#105
TWA CORBIES
(Child #26)
(Tune: from Brittany: "Al Alarc'h")
recorded by Joe Bethancourt
"Celtic Circle Dance"
As I gang waukin' all alane

I heard twa corbies makin' a mane
the t'ane untae t'ither spake
whaur sall we gang and dine today?
On yonder hill by yon auld fail dyke

I wot there lies a nu slain knight
and nae man ken that he lies there
save hawk and hound and Lady fair
His hound is tae th' huntin' gaen

his hawk tae fetch th' wyld fowl haem
his Lady's ta'en anither mate
so we may mak' noo our dinner sweet
Thou sall sit on his bonny hause-bein

and I'll pluck oot his bonny blue e'en
His luvly strands of gowden haar
sall theek our nest when it grows bare
There's mony a man for him mak's mane

but nane sall ken whaur he has gaen
o'wer his whyte bones when they are bare
the wynd sall blaw forever mair.
*
#106
TWO MAGICIANS
(Child #44)
recorded by Steeleye Span "Below the Salt"
She looked out of the window, as white as any milk

He looked in at the window, as black as any silk
(Chorus): Hello, hello, hello, hello you coal black smith

You have done me no harm!
You never shall have my maidenhead
That I have kept so long!
I'd rather die a maid, aye, and then she said,
And be buried all in my grave,
Than to have such a nasty,
husky, dusky, fusty, musty coal black smith!
A maiden I will die!
She became a duck, a duck all in the stream

And he became a waterdog, and fetched her back again
She became a star, a star all in the night

And he became a thundercloud and muffled her out of sight
She became a rose, a rose all in the wood

And he became a bumblebee and kissed her where she stood
She became a nun, a nun all dressed in white

And he became a chantry priest to pray for her by night
She became a trout, a trout all in the brook

And he became a feathered fly, and catched her with his hook
She became a quilt, a quilt all on her bed

And he became a coverlet, and gained her maidenhead!
note: This has MANY variants. See Robert Graves' "The White Goddess" pg. 401!
*
#107
THE UNFORTUNATE MUNDANE

-Pat Fiona McFarland
tune: "The Unfortunate Man"
There once was a mundane who searched far and wide

for a genuine "Lady" to stand by his side
At last he found one that quite fit the bill
and he courted and married a girl from Three Hills
At the wedding the mundane made one big mistake

'twas not in omitting the wine or the cake
the ring was well chosen, and no one was bored...
but he didn't ask what she meant by the "Dark Horde!"
(Chorus): He's a very unfortunate, very unfortunate, very unfortunate man!
That night in their chambers the Lady arose

and began to prepare to retire in repose
the husband sat near her, admiring her charms,
that gave him such pleasure to hold in his arms.
She doffed off her surcoat of white, to reveal

a belt that was lit'rally dripping with steel!
And the rose in his cheek quickly grew very faint
when he saw they were live steel, and not wood-and-paint!
(Chorus)
She went to the mirror to take off her belt

and she saw in reflection how her husband felt
said she "Don't be frightened or shiver in dread..
For I'll only wear two when we get into bed!"
She took twenty more from her boots and her hair
then she proceeded to doff gown so fair
and her trembleing husband got quite a surprise
for beneath it she wore chain-mail made to her size!
(Chorus)
Now all you mundanes who would marry for life

be sure you examine an SCA wife
don't be like the turkey who trusted his eyes
and a little bit later got quite a surprise!
(Chorus)
*
#108
THE VALKYRIE SONG

(Tune: Wagner's "Flight of the Valkyries")
We fly through the night skies

Flashing our fat thighs,
Picking up dead guys;
You call this a job?
You take the blond guy,

I'll take the redhead!
Wait, he's not dead yet;
Let him go . . . splat!
Chorus: Woo-oop! Woo-oop!

Woo-oop! Woo-oop!
Woo-oop! Woo-oop!
Woo-oop! Woo-oop!
Oh-h-h-h-h-h!
We're hunting the Wabbit!

*
#109
WEAPONS AT THE DOOR

-Ioseph of Locksley
(c) 1974 W. J. Bethancourt III
Being a Polemic concerning the alleged Custom of the West Kingdom

concerning checking your Weapons at the Door of the Revel Hall. As the
Satire is the Weapon of the Bard, this said Polemic is to be checked at
the Door, along with swords, knives, redheaded Ladies and other such
Deadly Things.....
As I roved out to Western Lands to take the Western Air

I went into a Revel Hall and I saw a Twelfth Night there
but I was halted at the gate by a Privy Consellor
(that's the man who tells the King of the West how to go to
the bath room!)
who told me I would have to check my Weapons at the door
As I, in my astonishment, stood hung on tenter-pegs

a Knight came in whose Prouess hung down between his legs
the Doorman grabbed a greatsword and he struck the Knight full sore
and gave him a reciept; he left his weapon at the door!
a Bard was next whose goodly Voice has entertained us all

but he, too, was prevented from entering the Hall
and told he could not carry deadly weapons on the floor
he left his Voice and Harp among the weapons at the door
a Master entered graciously, a man we all know well

who holds a 3rd Dan Black Belt, tho this he'd never tell
the Master struggled valiantly, the Master cursed and swore
but he left his hands, and feet, as weapons at the door
the company was jovial, altho a bit dismayed

for lack of proper cutlery, down to the smallest blade
for even teeth and fingernails, each can be used in War
were cut, and pulled, and left behind, as weapons at the door!
And has their King not loyal Knights that He must be afraid
of brawling in his Hall and of Assassin's bloody blade?
the Rights of Men to carry Arms at least WE'VE not foreswore
and a POX on them that made the Rule of Weapons at the Door!
*
#110
WE ARE CALLED THE CHIVALRY

-Anonymous
tune: "The Invalids"
We've all been touched by Royalty and wear a white sword belt
and whether on or off the field, our presence will be felt!
One warning we should give to all; please list to what we say:
Unless you also wear the belt, best not get in our way!
(Chorus:) For we are called The Chivalry,

Our swords are very strong
And while our steel controls the field,
Well, we can do no wrong!
Our ranks are filled with the elite, the rest are cannon fodder
And as for social graces, well, we never have to bother.
For in this Current Middle Age, we're ROYALTY, not servants!
And if your armour's thick enough, who needs to be observant?
We're proud of being barbarous, our manners are alarming

But when your arms are strong as ours, why bother being charming?
If someone dares to criticise, in word, or deed, or song
We challenge him to trial at arms, and show the world he's wrong!
If someone rises in the field to challenge our control

He doesn't worry us a bit, however brave or bold
This man will not remain a threat, he'll not create a fuss
We'll just give him a belt like ours, then he'll be one of us!
*
#111
WELSH HISTORY 101 B

(Tune: "The Ash Grove." "Flow Gently Sweet Afton")
(also works to "Streets Of Laredo")
-Ceridwen o'r Mynydd Gwyrth
copyright (year unknown) Heather Rose Jones
If ever you wander out by the Welsh border,

Come stop by and see me and all of my kin.
I'm Morgan ap Dafydd ap Gwion ap Hywell
ap Ifor ap Madoc ap Rhodri ap Gwyn.
We'll feast you on mutton and harp for your pleasure,

and give you a place to sleep out of the cold.
Or maybe we'll meet you out on the dark roadway,
and rob you of horses and weapons and gold.
My neighbor from England has come across raiding,

slain six of my kinsmen and burned down my hall.
It cannot be borne, this offense and injustice;
I've only killed four of his last I recall.
I'll send for my neighbors, Llewellyn and Owain;

we'll cut him down as for the border he rides;
But yesterday Owain stole three of my cattle,
and first I'll retake them and three more besides.
We need a strong prince to direct our resistance,

heroic, impartial, of noble degree.
My brother's wife's fourth cousin's foster-son Gruffydd
is best for the job, as I'm sure you'll agree.
What matter that Rhys is the old prince's nephew?

He's exiled to Ireland and will not return.
I know this, for every time boats he is building,
I send my spies money to see that they burn.
Last evening my brother and I were at war

over two feet of land on a boundary we share.
But early this morning I hear he's been murdered;
I'll not rest until I avenge him, I swear.
Yes, we are just plain folks who mind our own business,
honest, and loyal, and full of good cheer.
So if you should wander out by the Welsh border,
come stop by and meet all the friendly folk here.
*
#112
*
WHERE DOES IT LEAD?

-Anonymous
recorded by Theodore Bikel
Where does it lead, this strange young love of mine?

Only Heaven and the lilies know!
I must go down where the lilies grow....
Play on a lily reed, lily low
Play on until she too, heeds my woe!

Any place it leads me I will go.
WILTED ROSE
-Baldwin of Erebor
copyright 1980 Derek Foster
Once I was a Lady of the Blood Royale, a Ruler of this land

Now I spend my time as an Old Used Queen, and I find it's not so grand
(Chorus): With a heigh ho, derry derry down I sing:

Never any fun for an Old Used Queen!
My Lord spends his time out on the Field, and dreams of strawberry leaves
I spend my days in a castle room..embroidering on his sleeves!
The other Ladies sit and talk of Barons, Dukes and Kings
But when I draw near they stand, and bow, and don't tell me a thing!
The common folk may flout and flirt and frolic in the grass
I'm the Model of Decorum..it's dull as hell!...no one will make a Pass!
But someday soon, there'll be a change: I'm learning how to fight!

And my Lord will learn, when I become a Duchess in my own damn Right!
With a heigh ho, derry derry down he'll sing:
Never any fun for an old used....King!
*
#113
*
WITH HER HEAD TUCKED UNDERNEATH HER ARM

-Author Unknown
-recorded by the Kingston Trio, et al.
(Intro): In the Tower of London, large as life,

The ghost of Anne Boleyn walks, they declare!
Poor Anne Boleyn was once King Henry's wife,
Until he made the Headsman bob her hair!
Ah yes, he did her long, long years ago!
And she comes back a night to tell him so!
(CHORUS): With her head tucked underneath her arm

She walks the Bloody Tower!
With her head tucked underneath her arm
At the midnight hour!
Through the dusty corridors for miles and miles she goes
She often catches cold, poor thing, it's cold there when it blows
And it's awfully awfully awkward for the Queen to blow her nose
With her head tucked underneath her arm!
CHORUS
She's looking for King Henry and she'll give him what-for!
Gadzooks! She's awfully mad at him for having spilled her gore!
And just in case the Headsman wants to give her an encore...
She's got her head tucked underneath her arm!
CHORUS
Once she met King Henry, he was in the Canteen Bar,

He said "Are you Jane Seymor, Anne Bolyn or Katherine Parr?"
"How in Heaven's name am I to know just who you are?
With your head tucked underneath your arm !!!!!"
The Sentries think that it's a football that she carries in

And when they've had a few they shout: "Is Army going to win?"
They think that it's Red Grange instead of poor old Anne Boleyn
The Sentries think that Anne is hauling round a rugby ball

When dinner's done they'll push the chairs and tables to the wall
And then they'll choose up sides and kick the Queen around the hall!
(Reprise Intro):
Sometimes Good King Henry gives a spread

For all his pals and gals, a ghastly crew!
The Headsman carves the joint, and cuts the bread,
Then in comes Anne Boleyn to queer the do!
She holds her head up with a wild war-whoop!
And Henry cries: "Don't drop it in the soup!"
CHORUS
*
#114
YE POLITICOS BY NAME
(Tune: "Sam Hall")
Ye Politicos by name, give an ear, give an ear,

Ye Politicos by name, give an ear!
Ye Politicos by name, your faults I will proclaim
Your doctrines do I blame, you shall hear, you shall hear
Your doctrines do I blame, you shall hear!
What is right and what is wrong, by the Law, by the Law?

What is right and what is wrong, by the Law?
What is right and what is wrong, a short sword and a long,
A weak arm, and a strong, for to draw, for to draw,
A weak arm and a strong for to draw!
What makes heroic strife famed afar, famed afar?

What makes heroic strife famed afar?
What makes heroic strife? YOU prefer assassin's knife!
You would not risk your life in bloody war, bloody war,
You may have to risk your life in bloody war....
Then leave your schemes alone in the State, in the State,

Then leave your schemes alone in the State!
Then leave your schemes alone, and get thee hence and gone!
And leave a man alone to his fate, to his fate,
And leave a man alone to his fate!
*
#115
*
YOU'VE LOST ALL SENSE OF FEELING

(tune: "You've Lost That Loving Feeling")
-Fernando Vergil, Fred Leiner, and Jeff Howe
You never close your eyes any more when I hit your helm
You've been beat upon by knights of a dozen realms
You're trying hard not to show it (turkey)
But squire, the marshals all know it
CHORUS:
You've lost all sense of feeling

All sense of feeling
That blow should have you reeling
But it's tip, glance, light blow-wo-wo-oh
There's no acknowledgement in your eyes when my blows land true

And your mangled helm shows the world what you're coming to
You know I just feel like dying (turkey)
'Cause squire, I'm tird of trying
CHORUS
Squire, squire, I'd get down on my knees to you

If you would only take the blows like you used to do
We had a bout, a bout, a bout that took all day
So don't, don't, don't shrug my blows away
Squire (turkey), squire (turkey)

I'm begging you please, please, please
Please take that blow
It's good, I know
Please take that blow
It's good, I know...
Bring back your sense of feeling

Your sense of feeling
No more tip, glance, light
Or you should not fight any more

Marshals' courts aren't appealing
No more tip, glance, light blow-wo-wo-oh

Bardic 1

Caricato da

Informazioni sul documento

Titolo originale

Copyright

Formati disponibili

Condividi questo documento

Condividi o incorpora il documento

Opzioni di condivisione

Hai trovato utile questo documento?

Questo contenuto è inappropriato?

Copyright:

Formati disponibili

Bardic 1

Caricato da

Copyright:

Formati disponibili

BEING THE FIRST SECTION OF THE ALPHABETIZED VERSION OF

THE BLACK BOOK OF LOCKSLEY

To Cherie Ruadh MhicRath of Locksley

I have wandered today to the hills, Acushla,

I see a true living Dream, Acushla,

They say we have outlived our time, Acushla,

I see the child that we raised, Acushla,

Through hard times and good times and sad, Acushla,

They say we have outlived our time, Acushla,

and fondly dedicated, also, to Count Sir Stephan of Bellatrix!

THE AGINCOURT CAROLE

Our king went forth to Normandy

He set a siege, the truth to say

Then went our king with all his host

Then, forsooth, that knight comely,

There duke and earl, lord and baron

May gracious God He keep our king,

Note: This may also be sung to "The Banana Boat

Our king went forth to Normandy

CHORUS: Deo! Deo! Deo gratias Anglia!

...but beware, you might seriously offend the

My mace has taught my foes to fear, that mace my fear relieved

Through many tourneys wars and fairs, I have already come

THE ALCOHOLIC'S ANTHEM

What's the use of drinking tea

Put an end to all frustration

ALL AROUND MY HAT

CHORUS: All around my hat, I will wear the green willow

The other night I brought her a fine diamond ring

Will my love be true, and will my love be faithful?

It's a quarter pound of Reason, and a half a pound of Sense

(Note: This version is a composite of lyrics sung by Steeleye Span

ALL THRU THE NIGHT

While the Moon her watch is keeping

Though this Bard must roam full lonely

Hark! A solemn bell is ringing

Neath this Stone my King is sleeping

Holl am ran-tire sehr thuh wed-ont

note: The last verse is phonetic Welsh.

THE ANACHRONISTIC LOVER

Lazlo Thea stole a stallion

Word was brought to Anna Thea

"Judge, Oh Judge please spare my brother

"Anna Thea, Oh my sister!

Anna Thea did not heed him;

Cursed be that Judge so cruel!

Anna Thea, Anna Thea!

THE ATENVELDT INVASION

CHORUS: Young folks, old folks, every man and each

Once upon a time, in a Kingdom far away

The monkey came ashore and wandered all around

The crowd screamed and scrambled, caught by surprise

"He's not wearing any clothes, whatever can it mean?"

The whole crowd was terrified, petrified with fear,

The monkey ambled 'round, all tired, stiff and sore;

But then the revel hall got quiet as could be

As I stood in a crowd I saw a valiant laddie walkin'

On a quiet village street stood a bowman strong and hearty

In a sunny castle hall, with her minstrels and her maidens,

From city and from township, from Barony and Marches

For all the Lands where I have dwelt

For oft I thought of mighty men

So raise your banners, blazoned bright