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Helmet and Gorget
-to the tune of: "Bell Bottom Trousers"
Once there was a little girl who lived next door to me
She loved a mighty fightin' man though he was only three
She loved his cardboard armor and his boffer and his airs
And when he beat her on the head, she lost all mundane cares, singin' of
Chorus:
Helmet and Gorget, Breastplate made of Steel
Articulated arms and legs, so no blow does he feel
Tassets and pauldrons, a gaily painted shield
Ready for all comers out upon the tourney field!
Now they've both got older and she's still much in love
The lad's become a lordly lord from feet to helm above
Now his armor's better an his sword is taped rattan
She's a noble lady pining for her fighting man, who's thinkin' of: (Chorus)
The lady's got a problem for the lad pays her no mind
He lives for only fighting and the bragging when they've dined
He trains each day for combat or to tourney he is gone
And so that he will notice her, she puts some armor on!
She puts on: (Chorus)
When she stepped out on the field, the lad felt some dismay
Who was this awesome stranger who made such a grand display?
With shining sword and surcoat and a shield on the arm
Painted "Vert" for jealosy, and plainly bent on harm?
Wearing a: (Chorus)
They both bowed to the Baroness, with head bowed down to limb
But when they bowed to whom they loved, the stranger bowed to HIM!
His manhood now in question and formalities all through,
The lad would come out fighting and he knew just what to do-
He'd beat on: (Chorus)
The lad charged in and then let fly a viscious rising snap
The lady blocked it easily and gave his leg a WHAP!
He stumbled, then he kneeled, as she brought her sword around,
And blasting it into his helm, she knocked him to the ground-
Tho he wore a: (Chorus)
By the time he came around, her might had won the day
She murdered all the knights and all the squires she did slay
The Queen of love and beauty now was hers to pick that day
And when she picked the lad, he didn't quite know what to say!
'Cuz she wore a: (Chorus)
So, all you lads take warning and your ladies don't neglect!
'Cuz it's no fun to see the sun, if you're reputation's wrecked!
When ladies feel frustration and it's all because of you
You just might find they DO mind that ignoring that you do-
and they'll put on: (Chorus)
Charric Van der Vliet
AS 23, Loch Wood, Far West Barony
May 1, 1988
Barbarian Boast
to the tune of: The Marine's Hymn
From the board of Hrothgar's Mead Hall
To the shores where grendal died
We will fight just like ol' Beowulf
Fought 'em in his Saxon pride:
We will tear an arm off merrily
And then use it for a club!
We are rude and crude barbarians,
Who will fight for beer and grub!
Charric Van der Vliet
AS 23, Nihonyama, Far West Barony
May 3, 1988
This Ol' Man-SCA Version
This ol' man, he fought one, he made him turn around and run
Chorus:
With a knick-knack, wicked-whack!
Give the man a crown!
This ol' man he mowed them down!
This ol' man he fought two, There was nothing they could do
This ol' man, he fought three, Killed the last one from his knee
This ol' man, he fought four, Said he, "It's really quite a bore!"
This ol' man, he fought five, Leaving not one left alive
This ol' man, he fought six, Not with swords, we just use sticks
This ol' man, he fought seven, Some of them will get to heaven
This ol' man, he fought eight, Some wore mail and some wore plate
This ol' man, he fought nine, All while one hand held his wine
This ol' man, he fought ten, Yes, those rust piles once were men
Charric Van der Vliet
AS 23, Nihonyama, Far West Barony
May 14th, 1988
The BOD Song-
to the tune of: Why Paddy's Not At Work Today
Some people say the Bee-Oh-Dee
You cannot ever trust
They'll tarnish all your dreams just like
Your helm gets spots of rust
But in my haste to sling the muck
To say they smelt like cod
I found that I'd been voted in
And now I'm on the BOD!
Now dealing with the politics
Is not my strongest suit
But I must admit the groupies that
You meet are kinda cute!
They'd probably do all I want
And many things beside,
But I retain my dignity
Because I fear my bride!
Now all the friends I used to have
Don't come round any more
They say I'm now untrustworthy
They say I am a bore!
And now these strangers call on me
So late into the night
To tell to me their point of view
About some dreary fight!
Little did I know when I
Was just a thrall like you
How tedious the duties are
There's just so much to do!
And trying to get help with it
Is just a waste of time
They have to get a great big bribe,
A reason, and a rhyme!
So when you sing a nasty song,
About the Bee-Oh-Dee
Be careful what you're singing 'cuz
You might end up like me!
A prisoner of the office,
And a woe-filled whipping boy.
In a world of politics,
There's precious little joy!
Charric Van der Vliet
AS 23, Nihonyama
June 2, 1988
(About the husband of one of my correspondents, not me!)
Manachar and Munachar
Manachar and Munachar went out to pick rasberries
And every berry Manachar picked, Munachar did eat.
So Manachar resolved him that he'd build a gad
For to hang Munachar.
Manachar came to the rod. "What news?" said the rod. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek a rod to make a gad to hang Munachar, for eating all my rasberries!"
"You'll not get me", said the rod, "unless you find an axe, to cut me."
Manachar came to the axe. "What news?" said the axe. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek an axe to cut the rod to make a gad to hang Munachar, for eating all my rasberries!"
"You'll not get me", said the axe, "unless you find a stone to sharpen me!"I
Manachar came to the stone. "What news?" said the stone. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek a stone to sharpen the axe to cut the rod to make a gad to hang Munachar, for eating all my
rasberries!"
"You'll not get me", said the stone, "unless you find some water to wet me!"
Manachar came to the water. "What news?" said the water. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek some water to wet a stone to sharpen the axe to cut the rod to make a gad to hang Munachar, for
eating all my rasberries!"
"You'll not get me", said the water, "unless you find a deer, to swim me!"
Manachar came to the deer. "What news?" said the deer. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek a deer to swim the water to wet a stone to sharpen the axe to cut the rod to make a gad to hang
Munachar, for eating all my rasberries!"
"You'll not get me", said the deer, "unless you find a hound to hunt me!"
Manachar came to the hound. "What news?" said the hound. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek a hound to hunt the deer to swim the water to wet a stone to sharpen the axe to cut the rod to make
a gad to hang Munachar, for eating all my rasberries!"
"You'll not get me", said the hound, "unless you get some butter for my paw!"
Manachar came to the butter. "What news?" said the butter. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek some butter to give to the hound to hunt the deer to swim the water to wet a stone to sharpen the
axe to cut the rod to make a gad to hang Munachar, for eating all my rasberries!"
"You'll not get me", said the butter, "unless you find a cat to scrape me!"
Manachar came to the cat. "What news?" said the cat. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek a cat to scrape the butter to give to the hound to hunt the deer to swim the water to wet a stone to
sharpen the axe to cut the rod to make a gad to hang Munachar, for eating all my rasberries!"
"You'll not get me", said the cat, "unless you find some milk to give me!"
Manachar came to the cow. "What news?" said the cow. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek some milk to give to the cat to scrape the butter to give to the hound to hunt the deer to swim the
water to wet a stone to sharpen the axe to cut the rod to make a gad to hang Munachar, for eating all my
rasberries!"
"You'll not get my milk", said the cow, "unless you get some hay to give me!"
Manachar came to the farmer. "What news?" said the farmer. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek some hay to give to the cow to get some milk to give to the cat to scrape the butter to give to the
hound to hunt the deer to swim the water to wet a stone to sharpen the axe to cut the rod to make a gad to
hang Munachar, for eating all my rasberries!"
"You'll not get hay from me", said the farmer, "unless you get me some flour from the miller to give me!"
Manachar came to the miller. "What news?" said the miller. "My own news." said Manachar.
"I seek some flour to give to the farmer to get some hay to give to the cow to get some milk to give to the
cat to scrape the butter to give to the hound to hunt the deer to swim the water to wet a stone to sharpen
the axe to cut the rod to make a gad to hang Munachar, for eating all my rasberries!"
"You'll not get flour from me", said the miller, "unless you get bring me this seive filled with water!"
So Manachar went to the river and tried to fill the seive with water.
But it all kept running out.
Just then a crow flew by and called out,
"Daub! Daub! Daub!"
"Why, that's just what I need!" said Manachar.
So, he got some clay and daubed the holes and filled the seive and gave it to the miller and got some flour
to give to the farmer to get some hay to give to the cow to get some milk to give to the cat to scrape the
butter to give to the hound to hunt the deer to swim the water to wet a stone to sharpen the axe to cut the
rod to make a gad to hang Munachar-
Who had BURST!
From eating all those rasberries!
Story from "Celtic Fairy Tales" Collected by Joseph Jacobs
Music by Charric Van der Vliet
AS 23, Loch Wood on the Long Beach
8 JAN 88
Greek Sailor
There's a song sailors sing when they take to the drink.
Some think that it's salty, yes, that's what they think
But sailors will sing it, for it brings lots of luck
I won't name the subject, it does rhyme with truck!
Chorus:
Bend over, greek sailor, bend over for me!
For it's been such a long time since we put to sea!
One way or another, we'll find ecstasy!
Bend over, greek sailor, bend over for me!
Plato with sailing men really was free!
A scandal to all who should chance by to see!
But Plato just shrugged philosophically
Bend over, greek sailor, bend over for me!
(Chorus)
Julius Caesar some passion had felt
For the fair-haired son of a Britannic Celt
But the lad let him have such a terrible welt
That Caesar invaded where wildmen dwelt!
(Chorus)
The Vikings sailed Mediterranean seas
Their furs all shaggy, and covered with fleas
But they knew all about the boys and the bees
Did you rip my pants off? No, Euripedes!
(Euripedes? Eumenides!)
(Chorus)
Richard the Lionheart went off on Crusade
And no one could count all the sailors he made
Making love in his armor, I'd call that rough trade!
But at least all his "seamen" were very well paid!
(Chorus)
Edward the Second loved sailors, of course
Especially a French one who's hung like a horse!
But Mortimer found he had nothing to fear
It's Liquor in the front and Poker in the rear!
(Chorus)
A man among men was our Sir Francis Drake
For we knew his codpiece contained nothing fake!
It's no use protesting or crying in beer
For sailors get restless, at sea for a year! (Chorus)
Horatio Hornblower sailed long ago
And he was a man who was sure in the know!
Our only question, "Whose horn did he blow?"
When Hornblower was our own Horatio? (Chorus)
*Sans Halo-21May89*
Brandy's Song
The language of love is cliche and old
The same old story repeatedly told
But for each lover, it's true and fresh and new
So it is now, with my love for you
I see each day in a whole new light
Drab and dusty everyday is new and bright
It's you who brought my heart to light, it's you who make it right
When we touch each other in the night
I just couldn't say enough of my love for you
I hope that my song will let my love shine through
Listen with your heart, my love, and soon you'll know it's true
The only one I'll ever love is you
Charric Van der Vliet
10 April 1989
Gyldenholt
John Hellion and the Neighbor's Pigs
John Hellion was a blacksmith
His temper as bad as they came
He had grey-green eyes, And arms big as thighs
His hair was a brand of flame!
Good fences mean good neighbors
But his neighbor's fence was poor
His pigs crossed each morn to feast on John's corn
'Til he could not take any more!
So the Hellion went to his smithy
He heated up his fire
He worked through the night, until it was light
Forging pitchfork blades on the pyre
He took his forks to the field
Found the gap where the pigs came across
He buried them there, with the tines in the air
If no trespassing then no loss
The tines were curving inward
They pointed to the corn
The pigs crossed the lines, sliding over the tines
But they'd soon regret they were born
John waited there in hiding
Until they'd eaten their fill
Then he shouted and ran, doing what a man can
To drive them back over the hill
As the boar in the lead hit the fenceline
He suddenly screamed out loud
For he'd run on a fork, and now he was pork,
Along with the rest of the crowd!
John dressed out all of the bacon
Took his neighbor half the meat
And the fence's repair became one subject where
His neighbor was suddenly neat!
Charric Van der Vliet
AS 23, Loch Wood
18 JUL 88
End of Book Seven