Here’s another ballad of mine. It’s about Hereward the Saxon (misnamed “the Wake”, thanks to later fraudulent genealogists trying to claim him as an ancestor), one of my heroes.
It’s been a long, hard journey, since Peterborough burned
Many a good man buried, many bitter lessons learned
I’m sunk up to my shoulders in this thick black Ely mud
My eyes are full of chainmail and my heart is full of blood
Heart is full of blood
I’m not the last man
I’m just the last man standing
I’ve seen the girls of Flanders dance in taverns on the way
While English girls on Alder trees from Norman nails did sway
We fired the wall and William’s witch fell broken all apart
My oath on Etheldreda’s bones goes dancing through my heart
Dancing through my heart
I’m not the last man
I’m just the last man standing
The treasures of Our Lady vanished with the Norse, our friends
That ferret of an abbot led the Bastard through the fens
The tonsured walls of Crowland do not heed my lover’s cries
My one true love is England, true love never dies
True love never dies
I’m not the last man
I’m just the last man standing
Follow
