Original Submissions by Bakha
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Long Black Veil
Added on May 2, 2005Based on a traditional folksong.
Ten years ago, on a cold dark night
Someone was killed, 'neath Lirathu's light
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the slayer who ran, looked a lot like me
The Templar said son, what is your alibi
If you were somewhere else, then you won't have to die
I spoke not a word, though it meant my life
For I'd been in the arms of my best friend's wife
Chorus
She walks these dunes in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me
Oh, the blade's raised high and eternity's near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
But late at night, when Whira moans
In a long black veil, she cries over my bones
Chorus
She walks these dunes in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me
Ten years ago, on a cold dark nightSomeone was killed, 'neath Lirathu's light
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the slayer who ran, looked a lot like me
The Templar said son, what is your alibi
If you were somewhere else, then you won't have to die
I spoke not a word,...
Continue Reading...Don't Take Your Sword to Town
Added on May 2, 2005Based on a traditional folksong, the story of a young boy who goes to town to become a man.
A young scrubhopper named Gil
Grew restless on the farm
A boy filled with wanderlust
Who really meant no harm
He changed his clothes and shined his boots
And combed his dark hair down
And his mother cried as he walked out;
"Don't take your sword to town, son
Leave your sword at home, Gil
Don't take your sword to town."
He sang a song as on he rode,
His sword hung at his hips
He rode into a spice town,
A smile upon his lips
He stopped and walked into a bar and laid his obsidian down
But his mother's words echoed again;
Refrain:
"Don't take your sword to town, son
Leave your sword at home, Gil
Don't take your sword to town."
He smoked his first spice then to calm his shaking hand
And tried to tell himself at last he had become a man
A dusty outrider at his side began to laugh him down
And he heard again his mother's words;
Refrain:
"Don't take your sword to town, son
Leave your sword at home, Gil
Don't take your sword to town."
Gil was raged by spice and reached for his sword to draw
But the stranger drew his sword and struck before Gil even saw
As he fell to the floor the crowd all gathered 'round
And wondered at his final words;
Refrain:
"Don't take your sword to town, son
Leave your sword at home, Gil
Don't take your sword to town."
A young scrubhopper named GilGrew restless on the farm
A boy filled with wanderlust
Who really meant no harm
He changed his clothes and shined his boots
And combed his dark hair down
And his mother cried as he walked out;
"Don't take your sword to town, son
Leave your sword at home, Gil
Don't...
Continue Reading...
