When lifted morning mist A haughty figure came from wood to list He'd come from the desolation When he'd heard the invocation Let others choose the tree of shields Whatever combat he'd never yield A joust à plaisance ou à la guerre Blood would be tasted on the air
Chorus From Dover to Land's End Plymouth to Hadrian's Wall None could take him from his steed so tall Peering through the helm was a man thick as elm Sturdy as an oak in rusted armour; mail cloaked
No matter the crests of these knaves Of over a dozen banners that waved In view of lourdes and ladies They'd all be sent to the gates of Hades Wolfric the Wild approaches the tilt Giving salutations with his hilt The crowd did rant and rave When their champion's helmet was caved
Chorus
Winking to the ladies in the berfrois He gave the bastard his coup de grâce Wiping a brow that did perspire He called for a drink from his dwarven squire Drunken with bloodlust divine He laid his sight on a wench so fine No matter if his breath reeked of wine and ale When a champion was made then that night he'd prevail
Chorus
To hell with the pageantry and gallantry He was come for the pleasure itself If the king and the land are to be one By another knight's hand it should been doneTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
