SONGS BY IOSEPH OF LOCKSLEY -copyright 1988 W. J. Bethancourt III unless otherwise noted ****************************************************
STRANGEST DREAM copyright 1984 W. J. Bethancourt III 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
- LOCKSLEY MONSTERS W. J. Bethancourt III (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! *
SONG OF IVANOF
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, judst 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!
THE HERALDS SAID TO ME
W. J. Bethancourt III C. McCray Bethancourt
(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"
- more *
Heralds Said To Me (cont.)
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"
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....................!!!!!!!!)
BUGS ON THE BARONESS 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!
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!
- ATENVELDT 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 *
- 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!) best of all is nude! If you're tired of wearing clotheses shed your garment 'mongst the roses never mind the old bluenoses best of all is nude! 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: best of all is nude! * CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE copyright 1984 W. J. Bethancourt III recorded: CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE WTP-0002 tune: Same Old Man/Leatherwing Bat 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 prettiest thing I've ever seen she went down underneath the hill and came back out of her own free will Brian Boru, on Irish ground walked three times the Island round Norsemen came lookin for a fight just another Irish Saturday night! Hi said Lugh on the banquest night a poet and a player and a good wheelwright a harper and a warrior and none the least: a Druid and he got in to the Feast! Harold Haardrada's face was red! Came to Britain and he wound up dead Stamford Bridge is where he's found got six feet of English ground the Legion with it's Eagles bright marched into the Pictish night met them there upon the sand gave em up to the Wicker Man! eight-legged steed and hound of Hel the one-eyed Man, he loves ya well fire burn and fire spark are you then feared of the dark? The Circle forms, the Circle flows the Circle goes where no man knows Hail to the Lady, one in three: Present is Past and Past is Me! Rhiannon's Birds are still in flight all thru the Day all thru the Night Hail to the Lady, one in Three Present is Past and Past is Thee! * more * Celtic Circle Dance (cont.) Hi said the Lady dressed in white sang the Day and sang the Night sang the Land and sang the Sea sang the Song, and then sang Me! (extra verses) Salt and oil and mirror bright fire and fleet and candlelight by fin and feather, leaf and tree, fill the cup and blessed be! From the misty crystal sea came the Lady to the lea Sword and Roses in Her Hand spread their seeds thruout the Land Came the Stag from oaken wood saw the Lady where she stood by the fire burning bright came to know his heart's delight! (end of extra verses) By Sword and Harp, and Irish Hound Blessed Be: the Day I've found Hail to the Lady, one in Three Present is Past and Past is WE By Oak and Ash and Holy Thorn bledded be the Day you're born! Fire burn and fire bright walk in safety thru the night * BEATIE, BEATIE, BEAT! -Ioseph of Locksley copyright 1978 W.J.Bethancourt III 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.)
SONG OF THE BoD 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 whack fol the diddle o the di do day may Peace, and Plenty be their share that keep our Empire in repair God save the Directors is our prayer! whack fol the diddle o the di do day
chorus: whack fol the diddle o the di do day so we cry! It's no lie! God save the Directors up on high! whack fol the diddle o the di do day
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?!
- M'LADY (THE FUBBA WUBBA SONG) copyright 1987 W.J.Bethancourt III 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) WEAPONS AT THE DOOR 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! * * THE STREETS OF ANN ARBOR 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 braoadsword 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 strick them yet better he crawled into his Yurt, and fell, dead, on the floor….. *
SONG OF THE THREE copyright 1981 W. J. Bethancourt III C. A. Bethancourt III tune: the song of the Cowardly Lion, Tin Woodsman and Scarecrow in the movie version of the Wizard of Oz
(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!
- more *
Song of the Three (cont.)
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)
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, oh my Lady? Will y'gang t'the Hielands wi me? Will y'gang t'the Hielands, oh my Lady? My bride and my bonnie t'be?
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.
- * (room for 27-28 lines) THE ITSY BITSY TEENY WEENY……. -Ioseph of Locksley copyright 1989 W.J.Bethancourt III 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! An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini 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! An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini With the fur on, and NOTHING inside! (This was written to bug my sweet wife to death with………..heheh!)
IOSEPH'S SONG -Ioseph of Locksley copyright 1972, 1989 W. J. Bethancourt III
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 resident in Caid. This verse was written when she was 2 years old. Ask HER!