The Minstrel's Song
I sang my song at Hastings Battle
To praise the deeds of Charlemagne
I sang of Arthur and of Roland
That men remember their great fame
I sang to rouse a sinking nation
That king and men might never yield
But when the battle cry was over
We all lay dead on Hasting field.
I sang my song to conquer loved ones
I sold my voice to him who paid
To sing his lady gentle love songs
And lend his passion softer shades
But when my silver throated praise
At last did melt her heart of stone
He paid me and they both departed
And left me there to sing alone
I sang my song at fair and market
A song much bawdier than before
Amid the pigs and geese and cattle
I sought to please the crowd once more
I sang to win applause and favor
Songs of the cuckold and the whore
And though I gladly took their money
I miss the songs I'd sung before
I sang my songs in times of anger
And found new purpose in my rhyme
At king and queen I'd point the finger
And bid them see the nation's crime
How bitterly did I condemn them
All those who kept the poor oppressed
But time was not yet ripe for changing
I at Tyburn with the rest
My voice grows tired, my eyes are weary
My aging memory nearly gone.
I've sung my song for lord and lady
I've sung it too for common men
But till there's no more time for singing
Until we reach the story's end
I'll always find the strength within me
To rise and sing my song again
Song By: Graham Pratt
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