Original Submissions containing 'songs'
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Kuraci Wagon Song by Gaulden
Added on Oct 13, 2005Traditional song sung by Kuraci while travelling.
Oh... I left a girl in blackest 'nak,
She had perky breasts and a slender back,
But the road called out and it called my name,
Said "Hey Kuraci! Hit the plains!"
Oh... I left a girl in old Red Storm,
Had an ass so taught and a kiss so warm,
But the road called loud and the road called strong,
Said "Hey Kuraci! The days are long!"
Oh... I left a girl in the tribal lands,
Had a way of blowin' just like the sands,
But the road called rough and the road called out,
Said "Hey Kuraci! Hitch them mounts!"
Oh... I had a lass in Ivory town,
With bright blue eyes and hair so brown,
But the road shouted louder than it had before,
Said "Hey Kuraci! You gotta leave once more!"
So I packed my things and I packed my load,
And I headed south down the old North Road,
And the road whispered soft when the Luirs gates closed...
Said "Hey Kuraci... welcome home."
Oh... I left a girl in blackest 'nak,
She had perky breasts and a slender back,
But the road called out and it called my name,
Said "Hey Kuraci! Hit the plains!"
Oh... I left a girl in old Red Storm,
Had an ass so taught and a kiss so warm,
But the road called loud and the road called strong,
Continue Reading... You're a Liar! by Priestess
Added on May 2, 2005Bawdy drinking song commonly overheard in inns.
Three old whores in Allanak
Were drinking a brandy wine,
Says one of them to the other two,
"Yours is smaller than mine."
Chorus: Tend to tha walls me hearties,
There's nothin ta waste but time,
Guard them doors, you lousy whores,
None is bigger than mine.
"You're a liar," says the other old whore
"Mine's as big as the silt sea,
The wagons they sail In and out,
And never a bother to me"
(chorus)
"You're a liar," says the other old whore,
"Mine's as big as the moon,
The wagons drive in on the first of the year,
And don' come back till it's nigh thru."
(chorus)
"You're a liar," says the other old whore,
"Mine's as big as the air,
the wagons drive out and the wagons drive in,
And never tickle a hair"
(chorus)
"You're a liar," says the first again,
"I'd blush to be so small,
Many's the ARMY that marched right in,
And never come out at all."Three old whores in AllanakWere drinking a brandy wine,
Says one of them to the other two,
"Yours is smaller than mine."
Chorus: Tend to tha walls me hearties,
There's nothin ta waste but time,
Guard them doors, you lousy whores,
None is bigger than mine.
"You're a liar," says the other old...
Continue Reading...Words on the Wind by Silence
Added on May 2, 2005Traditional folksong.
The wind blows softly in the cool dawn air
Drawing the sands along, not caring where
I cannot follow it, can only stare
As it leaves, racing towards my lover fair
Fly faster along the road, wind, be fleet,
Wrap my final words in your song so sweet
Carry them to my lover's distant street
So that she may know why we will not meet
Oh, wild wind, obey me only in this --
Bring my love news of all that went amiss
And I shall lie in peace, and only miss
The chance to bestow my last dying kiss
The wind blows softly in the cool dawn air
Drawing the sands along, not caring where
I cannot follow it, can only stare
As it leaves, racing towards my lover fairThe wind blows softly in the cool dawn airDrawing the sands along, not caring where
I cannot follow it, can only stare
As it leaves, racing towards my lover fair
Fly faster along the road, wind, be fleet,
Wrap my final words in your song so sweet
Carry them to my lover's distant street
So that...
Continue Reading...When I Was Young by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Written by the bard Kelinna Hessa.
Written by the bard Kelinna Hessa
The air were so much hotter then
. . . My mother was a bard then
And times were very hard
. . . When I was young
. . . When I was young
I puffed my first spice at ten
. . . And for boys I had that yen
And I had quite a ball
. . . When I was young
When I was young it was more important
. . . Pain more painful and laughter much louder, yeah
When I was young
. . . When I was young
I met my first love at thirteen
. . . I had brown eyes, and his were green.
And I learned quite a lot
. . . When I was young
. . . When I was young
When I was young it was more important
. . . Pain more painful and laughter
When I was young
. . . When I was young
My heart was so much stronger then
. . . I believed in the love of men
And I was so much older then
When I was young
. . . Oh, When I was young
When I was young
. . . Oh, When I was young
When I was young
. . . When I was young
When I was youngWritten by the bard Kelinna HessaThe air were so much hotter then
. . . My mother was a bard then
And times were very hard
. . . When I was young
. . . When I was young
I puffed my first spice at ten
. . . And for boys I had that yen
And I had quite a ball
. . . When I was young
When I...
Continue Reading...War Under the Sun by Narffle
Added on May 2, 2005Traditional Folksong honoring those lost in wars.
Legend will tell us that we won the war, that we suffer the pain of oppression no more,
that we fought with the sun shining on our attack, but where was the sun on the road headed back.
Eamin was a farm hand, who held his mate tight.
Told her he loved her, but he had to fight.
He wanted the freedom for his sons to be won.
So he marched off to war to fight under the sun.
O - it was long ago that our kinsmen died, fighting for freedom, their children and pride.
Many fine men lost their lives that day, and they told us it was glory under bloody Jihae,
Marawyn was a young lass who answered the call.
Her father had fallen defending the wall.
Her heart had to make sure that justice was done.
So she marched off to war to fight under the sun.
O - it was long ago that our kinsmen died, fighting for freedom, their children and pride.
Many fine men lost their lives that day, and they told us it was glory under bloody Jihae,
Lenatir owned a shop where he peddled his wares.
But he'd just had enough of the 'naki's damn stares.
Took his sword off the wall, for he'd never run.
And he marched off to war to fight under the sun.
O - it was long ago that our kinsmen died, fighting for freedom, their children and pride.
They told us it was glory under bloody Jihae, but remember the men not with us today.
O - it was long ago that our kinsmen died, fighting for freedom, their children and pride.
Remember the men who saw the war won, men that loved, men that died - that fought under the sun.
Legend will tell us that we won the war, that we suffer the pain of oppression no more,that we fought with the sun shining on our attack, but where was the sun on the road headed back.
Eamin was a farm hand, who held his mate tight.
Told her he loved her, but he had to fight.
He wanted the...
Continue Reading...Tuluk Gate by Stonewolf
Added on May 2, 2005A traditional dwarvish song, sung by Sergeant Brock, a dwarf of the T'Zai Byn
I left my love at Tuluk's gate,
When I turned back it was too late.
A fine stout lass with emerald eyes,
Return to me my heart cries.
But you are just too far away,
>From that gate I left that day.
I loved you once in the shade,
And in your arms I should have stayed.
But these boots had to travel on,
A new day for a new dawn.
But now that I've hung up my boots,
Settled down and taken root,
Where are you, my tawny lass?
I wonder as the days roll past.I left my love at Tuluk's gate,When I turned back it was too late.
A fine stout lass with emerald eyes,
Return to me my heart cries.
But you are just too far away,
>From that gate I left that day.
I loved you once in the shade,
And in your arms I should have stayed.
But these boots had to...
Continue Reading...Tribute to a Fallen Soldier by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Originally written for Sergeant Timmic of the Kurac militia by the bard Kelinna Hessa.
Originally written for Sergeant Timmic of the Kurac militia by the bard Kelinna Hessa
Spears, . . . Short, obsidian-tipped spears,
Pointed around him . . . In a call to battle.
Straight, shining, polished spears, . . . Pierced the soul in the dun cloak,
The glory of his bandy legs, top-knotted hair, and darkened skin,
Laughing was lithe soul in the dun cloak.
We now watch the walls singing songs of tribute, war chanties.
Shovels, . . . Flat, bone shovels,
Scooping out his oblong vault, . . . Loosening sandstone and leveling dirt.
I ask you . . . To witness in his triumph . . . The shovel is brother to the spear.Originally written for Sergeant Timmic of the Kurac militia by the bard Kelinna HessaSpears, . . . Short, obsidian-tipped spears,
Pointed around him . . . In a call to battle.
Straight, shining, polished spears, . . . Pierced the soul in the dun cloak,
The glory of his bandy legs, top-knotted...
Continue Reading...Tilted Stool, The by Narffle
Added on May 2, 2005Sung by Kune, of House Kadius.
Sung by Kune, of House Kadius
Der's a spot in the bar dat's real special ta me, 'cause it's got me more action than my paysack, see...
...I dunno how it makes da ladies think in dat way, but it keeps all comin' an' I don't gotta pay...
O' - it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
Ya give it a sit an' women come from afar,
Dey don't wanna talk about try'n der luck,
Dey just wanna take ya home an' give ya a...
Well..now...
...me'n mah friend walked inta dis place, a purty woman 'cross da way with a real nice face,
Mah friend says, "I got da drinks, 'cause I seen her first", but I knew a better angle than da quench her thirst...
O' - it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
Ya give it a sit an' women come from afar,
Dey don't wanna talk about try'n der luck,
Dey just wanna take ya home an' give ya a...
Well...now...
...dis shapely young lass was slummin' from uptown, scannin' o'er da crowd with a big ole' frown,
We started ta talk, but it wasn't quite fair, der's just somethin' about dat lucky old chair...
O' - it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
Ya give it a sit an' women come from afar,
Dey don't wanna talk about try'n der luck,
Dey just wanna take ya home an' give ya a...
Well...now...
...one night this old hag stumbled in all late, not enough teeth, but plenty'a weight,
...a fella next ta me scooted down toward the end, so I got up an' said "Ya can have MY seat, friend!"
O' it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
Ya give it a sit, doubt she can see dat far,
Nah, I don't mind neighbor, you can sit right here,
Gonna get me some sleep, but you should start on the beer.
'Cause it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
Da women see ya sittin' der, dey don't care who ya are,
Now every now an' den I gotta give up mah seat,
but it sure beats dodgin' them on my feet.Sung by Kune, of House KadiusDer's a spot in the bar dat's real special ta me, 'cause it's got me more action than my paysack, see...
...I dunno how it makes da ladies think in dat way, but it keeps all comin' an' I don't gotta pay...
O' - it's da old, tilted stool at da end'a da bar,
Ya give...
Continue Reading...Three Drunk Half-Giants by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Story of three drunk half giants, writted by the bard Kelinna Hessa.
Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa
Some friends and I in a common room
. . . Was playing Spice Run one night
When into the bar a commoner ran
. . . His face all a chalky white.
"What's up", says Mruk, "Have you got me Egg?
. . . Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
Me Aunt Mariah be Krath'd!", says he,
. . . "The fekkin' bar's on fire!"
And there was Mruk upside down
. . . Lappin' up the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The commoner cried
. . . As they came knockin' on the door
(claps twice loudly)
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
. . . And somebody shouted Dwire! DWIRE!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
. . . When the Old Grey Kank caught fire.
"Oh well," says Mruk, "What a bit of luck
. . . . Everybody follow me.
And it's down to the cellar
. . . If the fire's not there
. . . Then we'll have a grand old spree."
So we went on down after good old Mruk
. . . The booze we could not miss
And we hadn't been there any bit of time
. . . Till we were quite pissed.
Then, Ogan walked over to a wine barrel
. . . And gave it just a few hard knocks
(claps twice loudly)
Started takin' off his old brown pants
. . . Likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on, " says Mruk, "that ain't allowed
. . . Ya cannot do that thing here.
Don't go washin' clothes in the wine barrel
. . . When we got naki beer."
Then there came from the old back door
. . . A local Serjeant of the land
And when he saw our drunken ways,
. . . He began to scream and curse.
"Ah, you drunken sods! You Krath'n clods!
. . . You've taken to a drunken spree!
You drank up all the fine wine
. . . And you didn't save a drop for me!"
And then there came a mighty crash
. . . Half the tavern roof caved in.
We were almost covered by all the sand
. . . But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old sand sacks
. . . And we nailed ourselves inside
nd we sat drinking the finest mead
. . . Till we were bleary-eyed.
Later that night, when the fire was out
. . . We came up from the cellar below.
Our bar was burned. Our booze was drunk
. . . . Our heads was hanging low.
"Oh look", says Mruk with a look quite queer
. . . . Seems something raised his ire.
"Now we gotta get down to Kurac Bar,
. . . I need some Spice to get higher!"Written by the Bard Kelinna HessaSome friends and I in a common room
. . . Was playing Spice Run one night
When into the bar a commoner ran
. . . His face all a chalky white.
"What's up", says Mruk, "Have you got me Egg?
. . . Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
Me Aunt Mariah be Krath'd!",...
Continue Reading...Stay A Little While Yet by Morninglight
Added on May 2, 2005A lover requests of their lover to not leave yet.
Crimson streaks the night-dark sky,
And dawn has come much too nigh.
The city begins to stir and wake,
And my arms you must forsake.
Stay a little while yet, love,
Till the sun is high above.
It will be long ere we meet,
So stay here a while, my sweet.
Let your day's work bide a bit,
While my lamp's still brightly lit.
My bed's soft, your arms are tight,
Surely it can still be night.
Stay a little while yet, love,
Till the sun is high above.
For many days we must part,
Give this morning a late start.Crimson streaks the night-dark sky,And dawn has come much too nigh.
The city begins to stir and wake,
And my arms you must forsake.
Stay a little while yet, love,
Till the sun is high above.
It will be long ere we meet,
So stay here a while, my sweet.
Let your day's work bide a bit,
While my...
Continue Reading...Salarr Sword Song by Barzalene
Added on May 2, 2005Thanna Salarr paid to have this sung every tenday for a month as an advertisement.
They all come to Nak,
When they want to buy a sword.
They go to Salarr,
They go to Salarr.
They all come through Nak,
When they're on their way to war.
They go to Salarr,
They go to Salarr.
Everyone know my baby,
Got the best blade in town.
Everyone knows Salarr man,
Got the sharpest blade around.
They all come to Nak,When they want to buy a sword.
They go to Salarr,
They go to Salarr.
They all come through Nak,
When they're on their way to war.
They go to Salarr,
They go to Salarr.
Everyone know my baby,
Got the best blade in town.
Everyone knows Salarr man,
Got the sharpest...
Continue Reading...Runner Song, The by Barzalene
Added on May 2, 2005Purchased by a T'zai Byn Sergeant.
The best day of the week is Nekrete
If you don't mind all day on your feet
As you shovel latrines
Until they are clean
Then it's back to the Gaj for a drink
But I'm drink with the runners again
Yes, I'm drunk with the runners again
On a new contract bid
We all made some sid
And I'm drunk with the runners again
I'm sitting back at the bar
With pride for the Byn in my heart
We hunted and rode
And we fought till we won
Then we all headed back to the Gaj
But I'm drink with the runners again
Yes, I'm drunk with the runners again
On a new contract bid
We all made some sid
And I'm drunk with the runners againThe best day of the week is NekreteIf you don't mind all day on your feet
As you shovel latrines
Until they are clean
Then it's back to the Gaj for a drink
But I'm drink with the runners again
Yes, I'm drunk with the runners again
On a new contract bid
We all made some sid
And I'm drunk...
Continue Reading...Pair of Brown Eyes, A by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa.
Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa
One summer evening drunk for a spell
. . . I sat there nearly lifeless.
And old man in the corner sang
. . . about where the wood reeds grow.
And on strummer a fella sang
. . . about a thing called love.
And it's how you are kid
. . . and what's your name
. . . . And how would you bloody know.
In blood and death 'neath
. . . a screaming sky
. . . I lay down on the ground.
And the arms and legs of other men
. . . were scattered all around.
Some cursed some way'd,
. . . some way'd then cursed.
Then way'd then bled some more.
And the only thing that I could see
. . . was a pair of brown eyes
. . . that was looking at me.
But when we got back
. . . onna parts one to three
. . . there was no pair of brown eyes
. . . waiting for me.
And a rovin' a rovin' a rovin' I'll go
. . . for a pair of brown eyes.
I looked at him he looked at me
. . . all I could do was hate him.
While May and Philomena sang
. . . of my elusive dreams.
I saw the desert, the rolling dune where
. . . his brown eyes were waiting.
And I thought about
. . . a pair of brown eyes
. . . that waited once for me.
So drunk for a spell I left the place
. . . sometimes crawling, sometimes walking.
A hungry sound came across the breeze
. . . so I gave the walls a talking.
And I heard the sounds of long ago
. . . from the old well.
And the birds were whistling
. . . in the trees
. . . Where Whira was gently laughing.Written by the Bard Kelinna HessaOne summer evening drunk for a spell
. . . I sat there nearly lifeless.
And old man in the corner sang
. . . about where the wood reeds grow.
And on strummer a fella sang
. . . about a thing called love.
And it's how you are kid
. . . and what's your name
....
Continue Reading...Ol' Callis by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a dwarven tale as first told by Kragendar Stonebelly.
Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a dwarven tale as first told by Kragendar Stonebelly.
Ol' Callis was a pikeman, pikeman, pikeman
. . . Work'd Stormways many years ago
At Upwards Gate or so it's said
. . . Watching strange folks walk to and fro
Ol' Callis was a guardin', guardin', guardin'
. . . On Drov's watch, a dead-late shift
A banging on the gate he hears
. . . By a figure not moving too swift
Ol' Callis did some thinkin', thinkin', thinkin'
. . . That night he'd do a good deed.
Opens the side-door for an ol' hag
. . . His orders he did not heed.
Ol' Callis was a watchin', watchin', watchin'
. . . The ol' crone tore end to end
A silt-flyer had attacked her
. . . For his aid he'd made a friend
Ol' Callis was a listenin', listenin', listenin'
. . . As the woman did impart
Ask him to find her sister
. . . With a gift box he did depart
Ol' Callis went a deliverin', deliverin', deliverin'
. . . With five hundred coins in his hand
He oath'd to keep the box shut
. . . It was the crone's only demand
Ol' Callis wandered homeways, homeways, homeways
. . . Fell asleep without his wife
She opened the gift box to find
. . . Men's parts severed by a knife.
Ol' Callis was a frettin', frettin', frettin'
. . . Skipped work that afternoon
Went to the Tavern of The Eye
. . . His task he'd finish soon.
Ol' Callis went a wanderin', wanderin', wanderin'
. . . The crone's sister he did find
She saw the box's seal broke
. . . Though old she was not blind
Ol' Callis left a runnin', runnin', runnin'
. . . He knew'd he had been bad
She scream'd and hollor'd curses
. . . The sister she was quite mad
Ol' Callis was a itchin', itchin', itchin'
. . . His manly parts he could not feel
It turn'd all black and fell off
. . . Now Ol' Callis speaks with a squealWritten by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a dwarven tale as first told by Kragendar Stonebelly.Ol' Callis was a pikeman, pikeman, pikeman
. . . Work'd Stormways many years ago
At Upwards Gate or so it's said
. . . Watching strange folks walk to and fro
Ol' Callis was a guardin', guardin',...
Continue Reading...Message from the Old North Road, A by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Slightly modified version of the song by the bard Kelinna Hessa.
Written by the bard Kelinna Hessa
Was there ever a message sweeter . . . Than that one from the Old North Road,
>From a grim old fellow, you remember? . . . Dying in the dark on the Old North Road.
With his rough face turned a little, . . . On, a heap of scarlet sand,
They found him, just within the scrub, . . . With a drawing in his hand,
With a stained and crumpled drawing . . . Of a woman's aged face;
Yet there seemed to leap a wild entreaty, . . . Young and living-tender-from the face
When they flashed the lantern on it, . . . Gilding all the purple shade,
And stooped to raise him softly, . . . That's my mother, sir," he said.
"Tell her"-but he wandered, slipping . . . Into tangled words and cries,
Something about Kalb and Kockre, . . . Something dropping through the cries
About the songbird by the fire, . . . And mother's ginka-pies; and there
The words fell, and an utter . . . Silence brooded in the air.
Just as he was drifting from them, . . . Out into the dark, alone
Poor old mother, waiting for your message, . . . Waiting with the songbird, all alone.
Through the hush his voice broke, "Tell her . . . Thank you, Physician - when you can,
Tell her that I kissed her drawing, . . . And wished I'd been a better man."
Ah, I wonder if the red feet . . . Of departed battle-hours
May not leave for us their searching . . . Message from those distant hours.
Sisters, daughters, mothers, think you, . . . Would your heroes now or then,
Dying, kiss your hand-drawn faces, . . . Wishing they'd been better men?
Written by the bard Kelinna HessaWas there ever a message sweeter . . . Than that one from the Old North Road,
From a grim old fellow, you remember? . . . Dying in the dark on the Old
North Road.
With his rough face turned a little, . . . On, a heap of scarlet sand,
They found him, just...
Continue Reading...Mah Trusty Old Boot by Narffle
Added on May 2, 2005A man's boot takes him places.
I always walk with a limp 'cause I'm always missin'...
...mah trusty old boot and I'm always wishin'...
That I could somehow keep it on my feet!
Cause it's always droppin' in the worst places...
...fallin' whenever I take up my races...
...and it always gets me in a lotta heat.
Y'see there was a time when I went out wenchin'...
Had a fine girl, but her fingers weren't wrenchin'...
Her brothers came runnin' - she was screamin' out her mind!
So I ducked 'round a corner and we started off a runnin'...
Dodgin' all the slants - 'cause it was us they was a'huntin'...
...when I had a strange feelin' I'd left somethin' behind!
It...was...mah...trusty old boot with a big, bone buckle...
...smooth black leather, always gave me good luckle...
...I don't know a better pair e'er did be...
OH...it was mah trusty old boot with da thick, gray laces...
...always got me outta bad places...
...I just don't know what made it turn on me!
Der was this other time, when da templars were askin'
...bout some assassin who'd killed ole' man Baskin...
I swore up an' down that we'd just bought us a fresh pie!
But there was somethin' left that got them a'thinkin'...
...that I might look like a thug who'd been a'drinkin'...
...an' I know just what they found to think I'd lie!
It...was...mah...trusty old boot with a big, bone buckle...
...smooth black leather, always gave me good luckle...
...I don't know a better pair e'er did be...
OH...it was mah trusty old boot with da thick, gray laces...
...always got me outta bad places...
...I just don't know what made it turn on me!
So once I was doin' some chores for a man in a field,
mighty hot day, but a damn good yield,
had a young daughter, pretty as a woman could be!
Well, we were headed on home from a hard days workin'...
...but somethin' in the back'a mah head was a lurkin'...
...and I saw da farmer walkin' with his daughter toward me!
He said he found a nice boot with a big, bone buckle...
smooth black leather, all clean and no muckle...
Found 'dis boot with his daughter and a bottle'a wine!
He said, "It's a good old boot with some thick, gray laces..."
..."Mah daughter'll marry who's foot it paces..."
I said, "Well, sir, in that case - it looks like MINE!"
It...was...mah...trusty old boot with a big, bone buckle...
...smooth black leather, always gave me good luckle...
...I don't know a better pair e'er did be...
OH...it was mah trusty old boot with da thick, gray laces...
...always got me outta bad places...
...but every once an' awhile it let me be!I always walk with a limp 'cause I'm always missin'......mah trusty old boot and I'm always wishin'...
That I could somehow keep it on my feet!
Cause it's always droppin' in the worst places...
...fallin' whenever I take up my races...
...and it always gets me in a lotta heat.
Y'see there was...
Continue Reading...Lookin' Fer My Love by Narffle
Added on May 2, 2005A man goes to town looking for love.
O - 'round the hills and 'round the sands, I searched for a lovely young lady's hand...
...grabbed my sword and I grabbed my kank, emptied my bladder and I emptied my bank.
So out I rode inta the deep dark sands, with borrowed boots and indebted hands...
looking for a woman who'd take me in, or at least to a bar or a decent inn.
I came to the first town, walls quite high, women in their teens showin' me a little thigh...
...rode on into town and tethered my beast, I was lookin' mighty sharp - I'd say at least!
So I found me a girl they called Big Ole' Beth - with a chin full'a hair and a dragon's breath!
She wasn't too bad, if you liked 'em hairy - but not the kinda girl you'd -choose- ta marry.
(whispered to the crowd) If ya know what I mean.
So I tracked down a woman called Screamin' Sue, with a name like that she'd surely do!
If wasn't 'till after we'd knocked the boots, that it wasn't during sex that she'd let her voice loose!
(whispered to the crowd) If ya know what I mean.
So the next day I saw Smoooooth Careena, had ta blink my eyes ta make sure I'd seen'a!
But when she laid on down, like a sweet ole' tune - I tried to slip in, but there wasn't quite room!
(whispered to the crowd) If ya know what I mean.
So I rode back inta those deep dark sands, forgot my boots and I washed my hands...
of all them women who'd taken me in, in the bar, in the dark - in the decent inn.
I finally got home, no money to my name - and I sat by the bar lookin' like a poor shame.
When a lady walked by and she grabbed my 'broom' - drug me down the old road and into a room.
She said, "Boy, I never knew when you'd show - I've been waitin' for you ALL day, you know!"
I said, "You know you're the only one in my life, my love, my heart, my dear old wife!"
(whispered, with a wink) If ya know what I mean.O - 'round the hills and 'round the sands, I searched for a lovely young lady's hand......grabbed my sword and I grabbed my kank, emptied my bladder and I emptied my bank.
So out I rode inta the deep dark sands, with borrowed boots and indebted hands...
looking for a woman who'd take me in, or...
Continue Reading...Lookin' Fer a Little Fun' by Narffle
Added on May 2, 2005A man goes into town looking for some fun.
I rode into town with a terrible frown, I was looking for some fun that night.
When I saw a few men walking toward a wood pen, they was stablin' down their kanks alright.
So I said, "Hey man, with the pretty good tan - where ya go ta get a drink 'rond here?"
And he shifted his feet, thumbed on down the street an' said, "Black Hell Pits has da beer!"
It was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Painted black and lit by the sun.
There must'a been fifty folks goin' inside - and I figured I'd make fifty-one...
I pushed open the door, moved over the floor as I made my way on to the bar,
So many pretty lookin' women that I felt like I was swimmin' - an' it didn't seem ta matter you ya are.
So I ordered some flame, and the women came - they were pawnin' at me like they knew.
That I was the best damn lover, fighter, somethin'-of-an-other - this side'a da Gol Krathu...
It was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Ladies moving upstairs with the sun.
There must'a been fourty fellas goin' upstairs - and I figured I'd make fourty-one...
Well, I opened da door and a little bit more, I was havin' me a damn good time.
These girls were workin' the buttons on my jerkin, they were pourin' me a few glasses'a wine.
An' when bed was shakin' and the boards all quakin' - I heard a big shout down the stairs,
So I grabbed my clothes, why? who the krath knows - but I raced to join all the stares...
It was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Fellas fightin' like it was all fun.
There must'a been thirty fellas fightin' downstairs - and I figured I'd make thirty-one...
Guess I jumped down below and started to go, they were in for a one-man storm!
So energetic, my gloves were magnetic - punchin' folks 'till they got all worn.
Den da soldiers came in with a big ole' grin - and they started draggin' folks to the street.
I got hit in the mouth and went down south, but I managed to keep on mah feet.
It was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Folks streamin' toward the door in a run.
There must'a been twenty fellas jumpin' through windows - and I figured I'd make twenty-one...
O - it was da biggest, baddest place ya e'er seen in yer life! Blood flowin' like bottles'a wine!
That's when I caught a purty lass fleein' da scene, but dat's a whole 'nother story'a mine...I rode into town with a terrible frown, I was looking for some fun that night.When I saw a few men walking toward a wood pen, they was stablin' down their kanks alright.
So I said, "Hey man, with the pretty good tan - where ya go ta get a drink 'rond here?"
And he shifted his feet, thumbed on...
Continue Reading...Longshanks Windspear by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a story first told by Kragendar Stonebelly
Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a story first told byKragendar Stonebelly
They call him K'lek N'gar, Longshanks Windspear,
No one known here, has caused so much fear,
And we know K'lek N'gar, lives in a land full of anger,
Running all around, the dry desert there!
Everyone detests, that leader of the gith,
Ever so hateful, he struck Krag forthwith,
Stabbed him right here, with a jagged spear,
And pulling clear, Krag's flesh did adhere!
They call him K'lek N'gar, Longshanks Windspear,
No one known here, has caused so much fear,
And we know K'lek N'gar, lives in a land full of anger,
Running all around, the dry desert there!Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa, based on a story first told byKragendar StonebellyThey call him K'lek N'gar, Longshanks Windspear,
No one known here, has caused so much fear,
And we know K'lek N'gar, lives in a land full of anger,
Running all around, the dry desert there!
Everyone detests,...
Continue Reading...Long Black Veil by Bakha
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...Little Party, A by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Kuraci drinking song.
Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa
Oh, we had a little party down in Red Storm,
. . . There was Mosert, there was me, and the other fellar made three.
Oh, we had a little party down in Red Storm,
. . . And we had to carry Mosert before he was dessert.
Oh, we had to carry Mosert through the desert,
. . . And we had to carry him to the Outpost.
And the reason that we had to carry Mosert through the desert,
. . . Was that Mosert couldn't carry anymore.
For Kurac, for Kurac,
. . .The Post resounds the cry, we're out to do or die.
For Kurac, for Kurac,
. . . We'll win the fight or know the reason why.
And when the fight is over we will buy a bunch of booze,
. . . And we'll drink to Kurac 'til we wallow in our shoes.
So drink, tra-la-la
. . . Drink, drank, drunk last night
Drunk the night before
. . . Gonna get drunk tonight like we've never been drunk before
'Cause when I'm drunk I'm as happy as can be
. . . For I'm happy I'm a working for the Kurac family
Oh, the Kurac family is the best family
. . . That ever that even did see the Silt Sea.
There's the Salarr and Kadian,
. . . And just forget the fucken Byn.
Sing Glorious! Victorious!
. . . One barrel of beer for the four of us.
Sing Glory be to Kurac that there ain't no more of us,
. . . For one of us could drink it all alone,
Here's to the Kurac. Dead drunk!
. . . What lucky we to be
. . . With the Kurac family,
And a six bottles of booze
. . . . That we can't refuse!
Written by the Bard Kelinna HessaOh, we had a little party down in Red Storm,
. . . There was Mosert, there
was me, and the other fellar made three.
Oh, we had a little party down in Red Storm,
. . . And we had to carry Mosert before he was dessert.
Oh, we had to carry Mosert through the...
Continue Reading...Knocking Boots by Barzalene
Added on May 2, 2005Traditional Folksong.
Well, I know my baby love me,
But sometimes he's got to roam
Ye-e-e-es,
I said I know my baby loves me,
But sometimes he's got to roam.
Been walking through the desert,
Going to bring my honey home.
Walking the desert,
Got me a new pair boots
Walking out in the desert,
Got me a new pair of boots.
I could walk forever,
These are walking shoes
Went to the Kuraci
Cause I had to get it right.
I went to the Kuraci,
Cause I had to get it right
I'll be walking through the desert
In the hot harsh old daylight
Bought a Kurac tent
Cause my baby got to sleep
Got a Kurac pack
Cause my baby got to eat
Bought a sandcloth duster
I don't know where he may be
And I bought these boots
Soon he'll be knocking boots with me
Walking the desert,
Got me a new pair boots
Walking out in the desert,
Got me a new pair of boots.
I could walk forever,
These are Kuraci shoesWell, I know my baby love me,But sometimes he's got to roam
Ye-e-e-es,
I said I know my baby loves me,
But sometimes he's got to roam.
Been walking through the desert,
Going to bring my honey home.
Walking the desert,
Got me a new pair boots
Walking out in the desert,
Got me a new pair of...
Continue Reading...Jug of Mead, A by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Traditonal folksong.
Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa
One evening on the day of Nekrete . . . As I was sitting resting my feet
A small bird was restin' on a loreshi reed. . . And the song he sang . . . was "The Jug Of Mead."
(whistles along with the melody for two bars)
What more diversion can a lass desire? . . . Than to sit herself down by an alehouse fire
Upon his knee a man she can need . . . And upon the table a jug of mead.
(whistles along with the melody for two bars)
Let the physicians come with all their art . . . They'll make no impression upon my heart
Even a cripple forgets his plead . . . When he's snug outside of a jug of mead.
(whistles along with the melody for two bars)
And if I get drunk, well, me money's me own . . . And them don't like me they can leave me alone
I'll chune me strummer and I'll rosin me bow . . . And I'll be welcome . . . wherever I go.
(whistles along with the melody for two bars)
And when I'm dead and in my grave . . . No costly stones will I crave
Just lay me down near my sweet . . . With a jug of mead at my head and feet.Written by the Bard Kelinna HessaOne evening on the day of Nekrete . . . As I was sitting resting my feet
A small bird was restin' on a loreshi reed. . . And the song he sang . . .
was "The Jug Of Mead."
(whistles along with the melody for two bars)
What more diversion can a lass desire? . ....
Continue Reading...If You Want Me by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005Two strangers meet and go home together.
Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa
He sits alone waitin' for suggestions . . . She's so anxious avoidin' all the questions.
Her lips are dry his heart is racin' . . . Don't you just know 'xactly what they're thinkin'.
If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know.
If you really need me just reach out and touch me . . . come on darlin' tell me so.
She's acting shy looking for an answer, . . . Come on darlin', let's spend the night together,
Now hold on a while, before we go much further, . . . Give me time so I can tell my mother,
They walk slow to her new apartment, . . . At last she can tell him exactly what her heart meant.
If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know.
If you really need me just reach out and touch me . . . come on darlin' tell me so.
Her heart's beating like a drum . . . 'cause at last she's got her lad home Relax darlin' now we are alone . . . Oh.
They wake at dawn 'cause all the birds are singing, . . . Two total strangers but that ain't what they're thinking.
Outside it's hot and windy, the sands a storming, . . . They got each other and no one's complaining,
He says I'm sorry but I'm out of wine and fancy, . . . Never mind darlin' I don't think your chancy.
If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know.
If you really need me just reach out and touch me . . . come on darlin' tell me so.
If you really, really, really, really need me . . . just let me know
If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know.
If you really need me just reach out and touch me . . . come on darlin' tell me so.Written by the Bard Kelinna HessaHe sits alone waitin' for suggestions . . . She's so anxious avoidin' all the
questions.
Her lips are dry his heart is racin' . . . Don't you just know 'xactly what
they're thinkin'.
If you want me and you think you're ready . . . come on darlin' let me know.
Continue Reading... Gal Ya Don't Meet every Day, A by Bhuff
Added on May 2, 2005A female bard asks bystanders to buy her a drink.
Written by the Bard Kelinna Hessa
Oh, my name is Kel Hessa, . . . I'm a canny gal, . . . and roving young lass I've been.
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.
I have no land, I have no men of command, . . . I have never have any coins to spare.
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.
So come fill up my glass with whisky and wine. . . . What ever it costs, You can pay.
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.
Oh, I took up my kank, and him I did lose, . . . all down in the Grey Forest.
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.
So come fill up my glass with whisky and wine. . . . What ever it costs You can pay.
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't meet every day.
Written by the Bard Kelinna HessaOh, my name is Kel Hessa, . . . I'm a canny gal, . . . and roving young lass
I've been.
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me, . . . I'm a gal you don't
meet every day.
I have no land, I have no men of command, . . . I have never have any coins
to...
Continue Reading...
