Thus lands our fleet on Normandy’s shore Just another day in a Hundred Year War No idea we are headed for The Battle of Agincourt Marched days to Calaise, nothing to eat ‘Cept berries, nuts and spoiling meat A diarrhoea diet to make any turn tail Ever puked your pants in mail? Our army is mangy, starving and stale While the French appear happy and hale Reclining in their lines, with advantage of time But Henry has a plan in mind He sounds the advance, let’s start this dance We Englishmen take a chance And approach their ranks, so close They could smell our stank Our archers loose volleys from our banks Their cavalry vanguards panic and charge In disregard of the sitch at large For the field in the rain bogged thickly, quickly Knight’s charge slow, their horses stick-swiftly And squeal, in the torrent of bow-shafts Bold steeds turning into frothing maniacs Fancy this, Henrys plan worked fine As crazed armoured beasts smash their own second line
Now sarge, sound the charge for our men-at-arms We throw down our bows and heft pole-arms Axes, mauls, dirks, daggers, swords Crude wooden stakes hold noble knights gored Now all that’s left of the van Heaps of corpses taller than a man Understand, we keep what we don’t kill Capture and ransom those nobles at will Lo our baggage is beset by Frenchmen A force of slovenly serfs, three knights ahead of them Camp followers, run now or die For pillaging peasantry no loyalties lie Henry was rowdy, but now he’s mad He orders the killing of the captives we had So burn down the huts they’re locked in Hew heads, cut throats this day of St. Crispin
Pay no mind to the vanguard Knock your bodkins in time Our longbows snap and the knights collapse The mud and their blood, and iron bind We band of bro’s turned butcher in the mud ‘Til the foe had their fill of their comrades blood Turned about-face and withdrew Amidst the jeers of we happy few Glory to Bodkin and Country, the French were through Bodies on the field like dew We`d broke noble knights with nought but we`d brought A peasants skull cap and padded leather frock, One hatchet, one dirk, two measly dried sparrows A longbow and full quiver of arrows Ya a longbow with a hell-of-a-lotta arrows One bow and a shit-ton of arrows One bow and a fuck-load of arrows
Pay no mind to the vanguard Knock your bodkins in time Our longbows snap and the knights collapse The mud and their blood, and iron bindTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
