            THE SONGS OF "CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE" WTP-0002C
            AND "THE BLACK BOOK OF LOCKSLEY" CM Prod. (no number yet)

          With chordings as annotated by Ioseph of Locksley
                 for Janos der Kleiner, Yule 1990

         **************************************************

                           STRANGEST DREAM
                copyright 1984 W. J. Bethancourt III
                recorded: CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE  WTP-0002C

          C                                  F           C
    Last night I had the strangest dream in this bleak century
        G7                      C    Am       Dm7       G7   C
    I dreamed that people the world around believed in Chivalry

         F              C              F                 C
    I dreamed I saw a Kingly Crown enshrined in laurel leaves
          F                C   Am   Dm7     G7      C
    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

      ***********************************************************

                         CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE

              copyright 1984 W. J. Bethancourt III 
              recorded: CELTIC CIRCLE DANCE, WTP-0002
              tune: "Same Old Man/Leatherwing Bat" (Trad. Appalachian)

The Guitar is tuned "DADGBD" and only two chords are used:

"D" dorian mode:

string:       6 5 4 3 2 1    this is just like a normal "D" chord but with
fret number:  0 0 0 2 3 0       first string unfingered.

"C" dorian mode:

string:       6 5 4 3 2 1    the 5th and 6th strings fingered like "C"
fret number:  0 3 2 0 3 0     with the 2nd string held from the other chord.

           D                                C
           Hi said the Norn, sittin in the sand
            D
           once I talked to a great Grey Man
            D
           spun three times and said with a sigh
                                               C    D
           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     

       *************************************************************

                The lyrics to "A Pict Song" can be found in
                Rudyard Kipling's book "Puck Of Pook's Hill."
                Due to copyright restrictions they are NOT
                included here.

       **************************************************************

                         LORD OF THE DANCE
     -Gwyddion PenDderwyn, Amy Falkowitz, Ann Case, Len Rosenberg

The chord "Am+G" is fingered by raising the first finger off the 2nd
string in a standard "Am" chord and then placing the little finger on
the 6th string, 3rd fret (G).

The chord "Am+B" is fingered by raising the first finger off the 2nd
string in a standard "Am" chord.

             Am
        She danced on the water, and the wind was Her horn
             G                                E7
        The Lady laughed, and everything was born
             Am                            Dm
        And when She lit the sun and its' light gave Him birth
             Am                       Am+G           E7
        The Lord of the Dance first appeared on the Earth

                  Am
      (Chorus): Dance, dance, where ever you may be
                C         G           (Bm)       E7
                I am the Lord of the Dance, you see!
                   Am     Am+B                 Am
                I live in you, and you live in Me
                       Am      Am+B       G      E7   Am
                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!

        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!


       *************************************************************

                    FARAIS UN VERS DREIT RIEN
                                -William IX, Count of Poitiers
                                 tune: Ioseph of Locksley
                                       copyright 1976 W.J.Bethancourt III
                                 recorded: "Celtic Circle Dance"


                      G                C
                I'll make some verses just for fun
                 G                 Am7 D7
                Not about me, nor anyone
                      G               C           Am7
                Nor deeds that noble Knights have done,
                     G      D7
                Nor Love's ado
                   G                C
                I made them riding, in the sun..
                     G      D7     G    (D  G)
                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!


        ********************************************************

                           TWA CORBIES
                           (Child #26)
                  (Tune: from Brittany: "Al Alarc'h")
                  recorded by Joe Bethancourt
                        "Celtic Circle Dance"

     This is best done a capella, but if you need chordal accompaniment,
     use the tuning and chords for 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.


        ***********************************************************

                SONGS FROM "THE BLACK BOOK OF LOCKSLEY"

                      DIE GEDANKEN SIND FREI
             -from the Bundshuh Rebellion, March 17, 1525
       Translation by Arthur Kevess copyright 1950 People's Songs Inc.
       Recorded: "The Black Book of Locksley"

                       A                     E7         A
                Die Gedanken sind frei, wer kann sie erraten?
                      A                  E7          A
                Sie fliehen vorbei wie naechlichte shaten
                       E7              A           E7       A
                Kein Mensch kann sie wissen, kein Jager ershiessen
                     D       A           E7          A
                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!

        ********************************************************

                          ATENVELDT
       -Ioseph of Locksley (c) copyright 1974, 1990 W.J.Bethancourt III
                  (Tune: "The West's Awake"

                       G                  C       Am
                  For all the Lands where I have dwelt
                      D7            G
                  Oh Atenveldt, Oh Atenveldt
                        G               C         Am
                  till rivers burn and mountains melt
                       D7            G
                  lest I forget my Atenveldt
                        G                C
                  From deserts stark to snow-capped peaks
                        C                Am        D7
                  from silent lakes and laughing creeks
                        G       C                    G
                  sing: Oh let man find his heart's ease
                             D7                G
                  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!

        ***********************************************************

                    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.....

         G               C                G         D7     G
      As I roved out to Western Lands to take the Western Air
         G           C                G      D7            G
      I went into a Revel Hall and I saw a Twelfth Night there
          G             Em               G          D7
      but I was halted at the gate by a Privy Consellor

      (in false Gregorian Chant:)  that's the man who tells the King of 
                                   the West how to go to the bath room!
            G               C               G      D7      G
      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!

     *************************************************************

                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.

       ************************************************************

                THE ITSY BITSY TEENY WEENY.......
                                -Ioseph of Locksley
                                 copyright 1989 W.J.Bethancourt III
                                 (The tune should be obvious!)

                   G                        D7
       She was afraid to come out to the Tourney
                  D7                           G
       She was worried that "something might show.."
                  G                        C
       She was afraid to come out to the Tourney
                 G             D7          G
       And the poor thing did NOT want to go...

         (2 - 3 - 4, tell the people what she wore!)

                    D7                      G
         It was an itsy bitsy teeny weenie little rabbit fur bikini
          D7                                      G
         That she wore, for the first time, that day.
             D7                       G
         An itsy bitsy teenie weenie little rabbit fur bikini
             D7                               G
         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!)
 
            ******************************************************

                   THE BARD'S SONG
                        -Ioseph of Locksley
              (c) copyright 1990 W. J. Bethancourt III
              (Tune: "Dublin City")

       G                 C
    As I walked out one quiet evening
    C       Am       D7
    At the hour of twelve at night
     G                       C
    Who should I meet but a fair young maiden
     Am                  Am
    Combin' her hair by candle light;
     G              Em
    Lassie, I have come a-courtin'
     G                Am      D
    Your kind favours for to win
     G                Em
    And if you'd heed my petition
    Am               D7
    I would be your Paladin...

          G           Em
(CHORUS) Gather roses in the Springtime
          C            D7
         Gather roses while ye may,
          G                Em
         Time is passing; roses wither;
          C                   D7
         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!

    **************************************************

                A REPORT ON THE SPANISH EXPEDITION OF '92
                                      -Goddwyn of Britain
                     -tune: "It's A Small World After All"

                           D                    A7
                'Twas in fourteen hundred and ninety-two
                          A7                     D
                Chris Columbus sailed 'cross the ocean blue
                        D
                Didn't find what he'd planned,
                       G
                So he told Ferdinand
                        D         A7    D
                It's a New World after all!

                         D               A7
                        It's a New World after all 
                         A7              D
                        It's a New World after all 
                         D     D7         G    (Em)
                        It's a New World after all 
                                A7         D
                        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!

        ********************************************************

                   HARP SONG OF THE DANE WOMEN
                              -Rudyard Kipling
                   tune by Ioseph of Locksley

        This is done in a chant-like melody. Just hold an "Am" with
        occasional shifts to "Am+B", or do it in retuning DADGBD like
        Celtic Circle Dance without the "C" chord.

        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 BALLAD OF THE THREE KINGS
                               -Sir Bela of Eastmarch
                         copyright 1980 Poul Anderson

note: in spots the "Em" is fingered like this:

string: 6 5 4 3 2 1
fret:   0 2 4 0 0 0

and that "B7" chord is highly problematical. You can use "D" and even
"C" there, too, as you like.

        (start on "Em")

                C                    Em
        Three Kings rode out on the road to Hell
          C                 Em
        ravens flew on the gale
              C                      Em
        the night wind rang like an iron bell
              Em
        and hissed with sleet and hail
                       C                       Em
                three Kings rode out thru the Gates of Hell
                    Em      B7      Em
                and on to Death's Highway
                    Em
                the King of the Britons
                    Em
                the King of the Huns
                    Em          B7     Em
                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!

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                     FLOWER OF THE DESERT
                             -Baldwin of Erebor

       G                  Am7     D7               G
       On a warm winter's evening I stopped at an Inn
                     Am7       D7        G
       I met a bold captain; a leader of men
                       Am7      D7          G
       he asked me to join him, for he was alone
                       Am7      D7               G
       and, as he was drinking, he spoke of his home

                                    G                        C     Am7
       (Chorus): Oh, Flower of the Desert full well may you boast!
                                    D7                       G
                 Proud Father-of-Kingdoms from mountains to coast!
                                    G                           C    Am7
                 the Land of the Phoenix; your works have been felt!
                                     D7        G
                 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!

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