Patrick the Butcher - Wardogs Lament

Patrick the butcher, his ode.
since i have gotten so many requests for the lyric i will go ahead put them up.

put my good blade upon my chest and lie me on my shield
bring forth a priest, i must confess then bear me from the field
For sworn was I to do or die, and never once did yield
now take my bones to Atenveldt, and rest me in her fields

For twenty years stood I the watch upon our borderlands
and turned away in a hundred frays, the foreign raiding bands
And I've campaigned with my good king full twenty times and one
Perhaps they'll write a song of me, now that my end has come

Morn not for me my good commrads, weep not for me my love
My duties done, my bones at rest, my soul with god above
but gather here one time each year, from wither whence you roam,
and drink a glass to me and mine, who died so far from from home

Remember me good Aten folk, remember me and know
I gave my life in a foreign land that you'd stay safe at home
and to each man who takes up arms, and off to battle goes...
Give him the honor and respect, that to the dead you owe.

Put my good blade upon my chest. My hands grow cold and numb
And though these hands are layed to rest, these hands the day have won
Now tell my love with my last breath, I made her one oath more,
that we'll be well met once again, on heavens shining shore.

Category:

Music

Tags:

• wardogs
• Atenveldt
• SCA
• soldier

[patrickthebutcher]

done.



[mayaschan]

Can you add the lyrics to the description? i cant add them in a comment too long