Jig‐a‐Jig
This track is instrumental.
Poor Mr Malaprope never really had a hope Sitting in the corner with his raps'n'ale, He never knew a lot about the things he used to shout about Sometimes what he said just went beyond the pale. On science his theory was that, "They're all barking mad". On politics he argued they're all equally as bad. Religiously he would observe high days and holidays, 'Divine Intervention' couldn't make him change his ways Then came Sir Spoutalot, straight out of Camelot, Tilting at the windmills all along the mile. No 'paragon of virtue' this was true, Putting damsels in distress was more his style. Their passions he would recount in intimate detail, With odes and songs and oratory to all he would unveil. This self-styled ballad monger then left us all to ponder, Why abstinence or reticence couldn't make the heart grow fonder? Dear Dr Pennywise not slow to realise, You shouldn't "spoil the vessel for a ha'porth of tar". Sixpence the poorer like Mr Micawber, His grand designs just didn't get far. Aguilar, Guy and Dancer were men he could admire, But unlike them he had no pile on which he might retire. In consequence he paid no heed to bills and fines and fees, And he ended up down 'Queer Street' with 'Lady Poverty'.
Submitted by Warbringer — Apr 24, 2025
No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.
Over the heather the wet wind blows, I've lice in my tunic and a cold in my nose. The rain comes pattering out of the sky, I'm a Wall soldier, I don't know why. The mist creeps over the hard grey stone, My girl's in Tungria; I sleep alone. Aulus goes hanging around her place, I don't like his manners, I don't like his face. Piso's a Christian, he worships a fish; There'd be no kissing if he had his wish. She gave me a ring but I diced it away; I want my girl and I want my pay. When I'm a veteran with only one eye I shall do nothing but look at the sky.
Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 24, 2025