RoE General > The Bard (IC)

The Songs of My People

<< < (3/3)

The Dark Lily/ML:
The Gentleman Soldier
Lest His Excellency the Lord Commander give you the impression that his soldiers are all noble romantics pining for their wives and children, my Lady Margeet has suggested that I sing for you a song of a different timbre, one that shows another side to these men's interactions with the local women in whichever land they may find themselves.
This song is of Brecht origin, though none can say in just which realm it was first sung. It is a loud and raucous song, one which the soldiers are wont to sing when they have been too long a-drinking, an occurrence which it would be dishonest of me to deny is not uncommon. And so, if you will forgive a lady being so indelicate as to sing such a scurrilous song, I present to you, the Gentleman Soldier...

It's of a gentlemen soldier as a sentry he did stand
He saluted the fair maid with a wavin' of the hand
So boldly then he kissed and he passed it off as a joke
He drilled her up in the sentry box, wrapped up a the soldiers cloak
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play,
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away

All night they tossed and tumbled till daylight did appear
The soldier rose, put on his clothes, said fare thee well me dear
For the drums they are a beating and the pipes do sweetly play
If it weren't for that dear Hilde my dear, then with you I'd gladly stay
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play,
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away

Oh come you gentlemen soldier, "Won't you marry me?"
"Oh no me dearest, Hilde. Such a thing can never be."
"I've a wife already and children I have three
Two wives are allowed in this army but one is too many for me."
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play,
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away

If anyone comes a courtin' you, you can treat them to a glass
If anyone comes a courtin' you, you can say you're a country lass
You don't have to tell them that ever you played this joke
That you were drilled in the sentry box wrapped up in a soldier's cloak
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play,
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away

Oh come you gentlemen soldier, why didn't you tell me so
Me parents will be angry when this they come to know
And when nine long months had come and past, the poor girl she was shamed
She had a little militia boy and she didn't know his name
And the drums are going rat-ta-ta-tat and the pipes do loudly play, 
Fare thee well Hilde me dear I must be going away



[OOC: This is another traditional English song, all I did was change the girl's name from Polly to Hilde to give it a bit more of a Brecht flavour, other than that it is unchanged. There are a large number of versions available, but my personal favourite is this rocking version by one of my all-time favourite bands, The Pogues. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=705FYkvs_94 ]

The Dark Lily/ML:
The Crow in His Castle
This is a new song that has but recently begun to be sung in the Ruideside. It would appear that the Lord Commander's aggressive policy regarding the remain unsubdued Thuraz tribes is not altogether popular in some circles. The song originated in the locally raised militia, and it has been picked up by some of the troops as well, particularly those in the Lord-Lieutenant's Red Brigade. I cannot say I am not altogether pleased about that, however, the men will sing their songs and as the Lord-Commander himself says: A Captain needs to know the mood of his men.

The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn,
Now is the time for a child to be born.
The sheep she will bleat, the cow she will low,
And if he's a boy to the wars he will go,
For the crow in his castle.

And if it should be that this baby's a girl,
O never you mind if her hair doesn't curl.
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And the shadow about her wherever she goes,
of the crow in his castle.

The crow in his castle, heart black as the night,
O somebody's baby is born for a fight.
The crow in his castle, with his heart so black,
O somebody's baby is not coming back,
From the the crow in his castle.

Your mother and father, they'll sweat and they'll save;
To build you a coffin and dig you a grave.
Hushabye, little one, never you weep?
For he've got a game that will put you to sleep,
Does the crow in his castle.

Bring me a bow and I'll shoot that bird dead,
That's what your mother and father once said.
The crow in his castle, what shall we do?
This is the thing that I leave up to you.
Oh the crow in his castle.

[OOC: This is an adaptation of Stanley Carter's haunting anti-war song song "The Crow on the Cradle". My favourite version is this one by Jackson Browne and David Lindlay: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Mqc8qHmDd8 ]

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[*] Previous page