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  • File : 1295451851.jpg-(15 KB, 320x413, king.jpg)
    15 KB Anonymous 01/19/11(Wed)10:44 No.13580087  
    Giveth Thy Lute

    All you serfs better know

    My chap George left a bow and a quiver at my home
    Didnt pay taxes to salute the Throne
    One to three hell be out in 1393
    Im ready to get this coinage, G you with thee?

    Absolutely right, my satchels looking kind of tight
    And Im vexed, my lord get the weapon chest

    No need for that, just grab your feathered cap
    The first saccus thats fat, thy claymores in his back
    Word is truth, I will shank him, dont mime your moves
    Treat it like fencing, parry/salute parry/salute

    Baron, you need not to explain this
    Ive been pilfering these peasants since the plague hit
    With the same flail and the same paddle blade
    Shank to and fro until Ive stoned another knave
    Tis my code, stewards even try to en garde
    Have his mother singing like a baaaard

    Yes, Monk, love your royal attitude
    Cause a fop that speak rubbish
    Tis a fop Ill gork n spew
    And spill guts, with the mace Im swingin
    Scalds on the palms from the cauldron spillin
    Then I gallop cross the moors and Im roguing wenches too
    Up the arrow loops and skirt hoops
    I dont give a groat if your dress shorn
    Give me the coronets and the number one male baby born

    Im flogging fops like Charlemagne joy is pain
    When its time to supper feed, its grog or mead
    Cause thine dowry didnt giveth thee daub
    So for the barm and bullace, I leave beggars in the barrow
    Word to vassal, Im Man-at-arms
    Crazier than a fief of mad castle guards
    When they breach thy vaults, heathens fly from catapults
    Im all that and a jesters hat, where the shillings at?

    Give me the lute. Give me the lute.
    Give me the lute. Give me the lute.
    >> Anonymous 01/19/11(Wed)10:45 No.13580093
         File1295451938.jpg-(118 KB, 375x500, king2.jpg)
    118 KB
    Big up, big up, tis a stick up, stick up
    And Im spearing squires quicker than a hiccup
    Dont let my double axe up in your loin and cod piece
    Order of gold fleece, neither pax nor peace
    Youre talking to the thievery sokeman
    Step into your pyre with thy blood on my robe
    Dont be a boob and get slashed over being resistant
    Cause when I pierce chains the knights need assistance

    Goodness, gracious, the taxes
    Where the marks at? Where the larks at?
    Villein, hark that before you get your head dropped
    From the hood fop, bloody guillotine-chop
    And my main Yeoman has an itchy sword grip

    One on his back, double-edged with a hilt
    Feudal sheriffs better strip, yeah, justice, peel
    Before you find out how broadswords feel

    From the war hammer, putting all the holes in your scabbard
    The shilling grabber, feudal stewards dont have better
    Crescent circlets, tiaras and brooches
    Im pilfering goblets, Henry V couldnt stop it

    Man, Marshals come through Im taking regal crest rings too
    Wenches defrock for their earrings and buckles
    And when I turn her and hurt her it's ending up in murder
    And if shes a witch then, burn her, burn her, burn her

    So go get your bailiff, wench, he can get robbed too
    Tell him serfs took it, what decree's he gonna doom?

    I pray apologetic or I will have to set it
    And if I set it, the village idiot wont forget it

    Give me the lute. Give me the lute.
    Give me the lute. Give me the lute.
    >> Anonymous 01/19/11(Wed)10:46 No.13580096
         File1295451994.png-(20 KB, 253x320, DUDE.png)
    20 KB
    Knight listen, gallivantings wearing thy feet
    But Maiden looks sweet (wheres that?) inside the castle keep

    Servi, grab him by the throat, toss him in the moat
    And if he bellows mercy, make haste or its the halimote
    Hold up, hes got a princess in the carriage car
    Silk, jewels and gown-dressed, she thinks shes the Queen of all

    Oh, allow me to grab her, then Im gonna stab her
    hit her with the rapier

    Be still, Earl let me do that
    Just grab the steads mane and gallop round the leet
    Her heinous acts scared, cesspit shell sleep
    (My liege, the law!) be still, friend, they will not approach us men
    Just want to tax again
    (So whys their gaze yet affixed?) I guess to ride the River Styx
    Returned from a bludgeon, not trying to see another dungeon
    Oh, great, they hue and crying my face
    You best ride quick, we start equestrian chase
    So latch up your boots for Im about to shoot
    A true rogue minstrel going out for the lute
    >> Anonymous 01/19/11(Wed)10:51 No.13580121
         File1295452306.jpg-(31 KB, 500x332, skinkn.jpg)
    31 KB
    tis a true minstrels tale!

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