
                GENERAL SCA SONGS BY VARIOUS AUTHORS
                     -transcribed by Ioseph of Locksley

                                  *

                        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 ....."

                                  *

                          A GRAZING MACE
                                  -Anonymous
                          tune: "Amazing Grace"
               verses 1-5 by Skald-Brandr Toralfsson
               verse 6 is the original anonymous creation

       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!



                                   *














                                   *

                    TOMORROW BELONGS TO ME!
                                -Anonymous (Western Irgun version)
                        tune: "Tomorrow Belongs To Me" (from "Cabaret")

                The sands of the Gobi lie gold in the Sun
                the Warriors and Herdsmen ride free
                But somewhere a voice calls: "Move on, Move on!"
                Tomorrow belongs to me!

                Ride westward, my children, new pastures are green
                Rich cities encircle the Sea
                'Tis time for your Glory, so rise, and sing:
                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!

                                  *











                                  *

                               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 *

        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!

                                        *

                   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?










                                 *

                    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
 Now we'll sit and sew your shroud!      HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

                                   *



















                                   *

                        THE ANACHRONISTIC LOVER
                        Author unknown (orig. SCA East Kingdom?)
                        tune: "The Frozen Logger"

                       As I sat down one evening
                       'twas in a wayside Inn
                       a forty year old barmaid came
                       and whispered by my chin  

                       I see that you're an Anachronist
                       and not just some modern jerk
                       for no one but an Anachronist
                       stirs coffee with a Dirk

                       I once loved an Anachronist
                       there's none like him today
                       he kissed me in a haystack once
                       and burned up all the hay

                       he never shaved a whisker
                       from off his horny hide
                       he'd just drive them in with a war-mace
                       and then bite them off inside
                       
                       He never shaved a whisker
                       until his helm was full
                       and the device upon his shield
                       bespoke a wild bull

                       He vowed to me one evening
                       no maidens were my peers
                       he went off to prove his point
                       and he's been gone TEN YEARS...!

                       and so I lost my lover
                       and in this Inn I work
                       and sit and wait for someone 
                       to stir coffee with a Dirk....

                                   *







                                   





                                   *

                     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!

                                *


                                *

       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!
                                   *




                                   *

                        THE REAL OLD TIME RELIGION
                                 -only a few of the verses...
                        tune: "Old Time Religion"

        (Chorus): Give me that real old time religion (3X)
                  It's good enough for me!

  We will have a mighty orgy            We will sacrifice to Yuggoth
  in the honour of Astarte              we will sacrifice to Yuggoth
  it'll be a mighty party               Burn a candle for Yog-Soggoth
  and it's good enough for me!          and the Goat With a Thousand Young!

  We will all be saved by Mithras       If your rising sign is Aries
  We will all be saved by Mithras       You'll be taken by the Fairies
  slay the Bull and play the Zithras    Meet the Buddah in Benares
  on that Resurrection Day!             where he'll hit you with a pie!

  I hear Valkyries a-comin                There are people into Voodoo
  In the air their song is comin          there are people into Voodoo
  they forgot the words! They're hummin!  I know I do, I hope you do!
  but they're good enough for me!         and it's good enough for me!

  We will venerate Bubastis             We will read from the Kabahlah
  We will venerate Bubastis             We will read from the Kabahlah
  If you want in, then just ask us!     It won't get us to Valhalla
  'cause that's good enough for me!     But it's good enough for me!

  We will all bow down to Enlil           There are some who practice Shinto
  We will all bow down to Enlil           there are some who practice Shinto
  Pass your Cup and get a refill!         there's no telling what WE'RE into!
  With bold Gilgamesh the Brave!          but that's good enough for me!

  We will all see Aphrodite               We will all sing Hare Krishna
  Though she's pretty wild and flighty    We will all sing Hare Krishna
  She will meet us in her nightie         It's not mentioned in the Mishna
  And she's good enough for me!           But it's good enough for me!

  It was good enough for Loki             We will all go to Nirvana
  It was good enough for Loki             We will all go to Nirvana
  He thinks Thor's a little hokey         Make a left turn at Urbana
  and that's good enough for me!          And you'll see the Promised Land!

  Here's to those who copy Conan        There will be a lot of lovin
  Here's to those who copy Conan        when we're meetin in our Coven
  They're just Followers of Onan        Quit yer pushin and yer shovin
  and that's good enough for me!        So there's room enough for me!

  final verse: It's the Opera written for us
               We will all join in the chorus
               it's the Opera about Boris
               which is Godunov for me.....!

                                *





                                *

                   STAND UP, STAND UP FOR ODIN
                                  -Robert Cook
                   tune: "Stand Up For Jesus"

        Stand up! Stand up for Odin, you warriors of the beard!
        lift high the Raven Banner that half the world has feared!
        From Angleland to far Vinland shall sound the Warrior's Cry
        Till every foe is vanquished, and Odin reigns most high!

        March forth with steel flashing beneath the naked Sun
        and never stand at rest again 'til all the World is won!
        Let scarlet sword his symbol carve in every nation's sod
        'Til every man still breathing stands up for OdinGod!

        Let ships with prows of Dragons the mighty oceans cleave
        and every land not Odin's our crimson gifts receive
        let Raven Banners fill the sky where every man has trod
        And all the soil beneath them belong to OdinGod!

        Stand up! Stand up for Odin, you Warriors of the North!
        With silver swords a-flashing to victory go forth!
        From Angleland to far Vinland our joyous conquest lead
        'Til every foe is vanquished, and Odin's Lord, indeed!

                                 *

                    WE ARE CALLED THE CHIVALRY
                                    -Anonymous
                    tune: "The Invalids"

        We've all been touched by Royalty and wear a white sword belt
        and whether on or off the field, our presence will be felt!
        One warning we should give to all; please list to what we say:
        Unless you also wear the belt, best not get in our way!

 (Chorus:) For we are called The Chivalry, our swords are very strong
           And while our steel controls the field, well, we can do no wrong!

        Our ranks are filled with the elite, the rest are cannon fodder
        And as for social graces, well, we never have to bother.
        For in this Current Middle Age, we're ROYALTY, not servants!
        And if your armour's thick enough, who needs to be observant?

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

        If someone rises in the field to challenge our control
        He doesn't worry us a bit, however brave or bold
        This man will not remain a threat, he'll not create a fuss
        We'll just give him a belt like ours, then he'll be one of us!

                                  *






                                  *

                   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)

                              *








                              *

                           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!

                          * more *



Elric the Awful (cont.)

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:

                "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! *
                               *












                               *

                     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!

                                *
  
                    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!
                               *





                               *

                       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!

                                *

                            WILTED ROSE
                                  -Baldwin of Erebor
                                   copyright 1980 Derek Foster

   Once I was a Lady of the Blood Royale, a Ruler of this land
   Now I spend my time as an Old Used Queen, and I find it's not so grand

   (Chorus): With a heigh ho, derry derry down I sing:
             Never any fun for an Old Used Queen!

   My Lord spends his time out on the Field, and dreams of strawberry leaves
   I spend my days in a castle room..embroidering on his sleeves!

   The other Ladies sit and talk of Barons, Dukes and Kings
   But when I draw near they stand, and bow, and don't tell me a thing!

   The common folk may flout and flirt and frolic in the grass
   I'm the Model of Decorum..it's dull as hell!...no one will make a Pass!

   But someday soon, there'll be a change: I'm learning how to fight!
   And my Lord will learn, when I become a Duchess in my own damn Right!
              With a heigh ho, derry derry down he'll sing:
              Never any fun for an old used....King!

                                  *


                                  *

                      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!
                               *

                 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

                             *

                 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???????"

                                *







                                *

                    THE UNFORTUNATE MUNDANE
                                -Pat Fiona McFarland
                    tune: "The Unfortunate Man"

 There once was a mundane who searched far and wide
 for a genuine "Lady" to stand by his side
 At last he found one that quite fit the bill
 and he courted and married a girl from Three Hills

 At the wedding the mundane made one big mistake
 'twas not in omitting the wine or the cake
 the ring was well chosen, and no one was bored...
 but he didn't ask what she meant by the "Dark Horde!"

 (Chorus): He's a very unfortunate, very unfortunate, very unfortunate man!

 That night in their chambers the Lady arose
 and began to prepare to retire in repose
 the husband sat near her, admiring her charms,
 that gave him such pleasure to hold in his arms.

 She doffed off her surcoat of white, to reveal
 a belt that was lit'rally dripping with steel!
 And the rose in his cheek quickly grew very faint
 when he saw they were live steel, and not wood-and-paint!

 (Chorus)

 She went to the mirror to take off her belt
 and she saw in reflection how her husband felt
 said she "Don't be frightened or shiver in dread..
 For I'll only wear two when we get into bed!"

 She took twenty more from her boots and her hair
 then she proceeded to doff gown so fair
 and her trembleing husband got quite a surprise
 for beneath it she wore chain-mail made to her size!
 
 (Chorus)

 Now all you mundanes who would marry for life
 be sure you examine an SCA wife
 don't be like the turkey who trusted his eyes
 and a little bit later got quite a surprise!

 (Chorus)

                             *












                             *

                    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!

                             *
















                             *

                THE ANCIENT AND OLD IRISH CONDOM
                                      -Anonymous
                tune: "Rosin the Beau"

        I was up to me arse in the muck, Sir,
        with a peat contract down in the bog
        When me shovel it struck something hard, Sir,
        that I thought was a rock or a log

        T'was a box of the finest old oak, Sir,
        T'was a foot long, and four inches wide
        and not giving a damn for the Fairies
        I just took a quick look inside

        Now I opened the lid of this box, Sir,
        and I swear that my story is true
        T'was an ancient and old Irish condom
        A relic of Brian Boru

        T'was an ancient and old Irish condom
        T'was a foot long, and made of elk hide,
        With a little gold tag on it's end, Sir,
        with his name, rank, and stud fee inscribed

        Now, I cast me mind back thru the ages
        To the days of that horny old Celt
        With his wife lyin' by on the bed, Sir,
        As he stood by the fire in his pelt

        And I thought that I heard Brian whisper
        As he stood in the fire's rosy light
        "Well, you've had yer own way long enough, dear...
        'Tis the hairy side outside, tonight."


                            *









      * end: SONGS1.TXT: Locksley's Black Book of Song



