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  • * ACUSHLA -Ioseph of Locksley © 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 She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be! 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 She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be! 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 She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be! 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 She's a false, deludin' young girl, let her go! Farewell be! (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") © 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 © 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 © 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 © 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 © 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.) * 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! Joined the HORDE in the SCA! Joined the HORDE 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 © copyright 1974, 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III (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! 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! * 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 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 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 And those who ancient Lines did Ley will heed this Song that calls them back! 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! 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! 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") © copyright 1991 W.J.Bethancourt III 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! My Lords and Ladies, pray attend (My Lords and Ladies, pray attend) 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!"] My Lords and Ladies, pray attend (My Lords and Ladies, pray attend) 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 Subtle as a chainsaw, lacking all the Social Graces 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 Subtle as a chainsaw, lacking all the Social Graces 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) -recorded by Steeleye Span "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 © 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III (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, we're awfully tired of you! Fubba-Wubba, you're an expert, When it comes to doing dirt! Fubba-Wubba, we're awfully tired of you! 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 HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACT(A) EST CUM AMBULAREM IN ARCTA VIA VIDI SUPRA ME SEMTERNUM COELUM VIDI INFRA ME AUREAS VALLES HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACT(A) EST CUM SOL LUCERET ET AMBUAM TRITICUM JACT(A) RET ET PULVIS FLARET CUM NEBUL(A) SURGERET ET VOX DICTARET HAEC TERRA PRO NOBIS FACT(A) EST * 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 © copyright 1988, 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III (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! Oh, I'm a Pelican and I'm OK I work all night and I work all day! I wear this bird around my neck to impress both young and old My talents they are many, and younger Peers I scold! Oh, I'm a Pelican and I'm OK I work all night and I work all day! 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 I work all night and I work all day! 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 copyright 1989 W.J.Bethancourt III (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! 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!) * 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") © copyright 1991 W.J.Bethancourt III 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! A Kingdom once again! And Sun-land, long a Province, be A Kingdom once again! 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 A Kingdom once again! 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 A Kingdom once again! * 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 © copyright 1974, 1990 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! * 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 © 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 copyright 1990 W. J. Bethancourt III (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, (I said) 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, (I said) Mention my name, But don't you mention my adress! * 70 * 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) * * 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 These are a few of my favorite things. 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 These are a few of my favorite things. * 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 © copyright 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III (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! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! 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! It is true! It is true! 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!" Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! 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!" Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! 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 It is true! It is true! 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! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (more…*sigh*) 73 The Mongols Are A Funny Race (Cont.) Ioseph is a Cavalier The Mongols are an awful group It is true! It is true! 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, It is true! It is true! 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 Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Unca Wu's a funny guy There's Mongols underneath your bed! It is true! It is true! 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!) Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Samak is down with PMS There's Mongols on the Royal Court! It is true! It is true! 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! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! 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! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! (more….Gawd!) 74 The Mongols Are A Funny Race (Cont.) Duncan is a canny Scot This song can go on and on It is true! It is true! 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! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Tomorrow belongs to me, not you! Aleta is a fair young maid Petruccio is an Italian flirt It is true! It is true! 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 © 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 © 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!) 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! * 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, 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? * * 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! Such a parcel of Mongols in a nation! 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! Such a parcel of Mongols in a nation! * 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.) "That is a vile sin," said the King, "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.." "That is a vile sin," said the King, "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 -recorded by Steeleye Span "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 motherfking 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.


             SONG OF IVANOF
              -Ioseph of Locksley 
    (c) copyright 1974, 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III
 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!) 
                            reticulated garbage cans!


                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)


                SONG OF THE BoD
                     -Ioseph of Locksley
           (c) 1974 W.J.Bethancourt III
          (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?!


                -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...............


                      -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
    copyright 1984 W. J. Bethancourt III
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


                      -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.....


                   -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


         (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


       (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.


               (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.


                     -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:
     Tomorrow belongs to me!
     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
     Tomorrow belongs to me!
     Meridies weakens from internal strife
     Caid is her own enemy!
     And young Ansteorra's a babe-in-arms
     Tomorrow belongs to me!
     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!
     Tomorrow belongs to me!
     Oh Father-of-Kingdoms, come, show us the sign
     Your children have waited to see:
     The morning shall come when the World is MINE!
     Tomorrow belongs to me!


            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.


               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!


                      -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!


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!


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!



                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!
          We're hunting the Wabbit!
          We're hunting the Wabbit!
          We're hunting the Wabbit!
          We're hunting the Wabbit!


              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!


          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!


          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.


                   recorded by Theodore Bikel
  Where does it lead, this strange young love of mine?
  Only Heaven and the lilies know!
  Where does it lead, this strange young love of mine?
  I must go down where the lilies grow....
  Play on a lily reed, lily low
  Play on until she too, heeds my woe!
  Where does it lead, this strange young love of mine?
  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'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!


                                -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!
 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!
 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
 With her head tucked underneath her arm!
 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!
 With her head tucked underneath her arm!

(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!"


                 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!


       (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


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


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 Bring back your sense of feeling No more tip, glance, light Or you should not fight any more

Bring back your sense of feeling Marshals' courts aren't appealing Bring back your sense of feeling No more tip, glance, light blow-wo-wo-oh

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