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The Kings Debt

JulianaBadele's picture

A special thanks to Drake the Bard, for inspiration. 
A filk to the tune "Massacre of Glencoe" 

 

The Kings Debt

Chorus

Words are aren't as strong, as the acts of the wrong
and nothing can bring back the slain,
The King made it clear and his subjects would hear,
that all pay their due in his reign

The king was a ruler of passion and strength
he lead his own my men rough and regal.
to gather the taxes and house his sworn few.
he lived on the lives of his people.

No debt would he take if the tithe wasn't fit
each shilling found missing would meet with a sword
the towns were laid waste and the field fed his list,
the dead were found payed, by king's word.

(but) Words are aren't as strong, as the acts of the wrong
and nothing can bring back the slain,
The King made it clear and his subjects would hear,
that all pay their due in his reign

Late in the Autumn, the king came to Hart
A shire that lay soft, and silent it stood
No man, woman, child, of cattle was found
as they burned their was close to the wood. 

These rebels hid vigilant deep in the trees
they fought with the force of the desperate and dead,
the kings arm was shot and he fell from his steed
he cursed them and through the wood fled

(but) Words are aren't as strong, as the acts of the wrong
and nothing can bring back the slain,
The King made it clear and his subjects would hear,
that all pay their due in his reign

Far from the fray lay a farmstead in ruin.
That stood by the wood with it's overgrown lane.
The king sighed to spy it and limped for the gate
behind him he trailed a red stain.

The door cracked ajar and an old man looked out
alarmed, saw the arm of this soldier in flight
He brought the king in and his wife boiled cloth
she prayed for his soul through the night.

(but) Words are aren't as strong, as the acts of the wrong
and nothing can bring back the slain,
The King made it clear and his subjects would hear,
that all pay their due in his reign

They gave him the clothes that their son's had once worn
and fed him of bread made with grain from the tithe
and after he woke he was weak but alive
so he thanked the old man and his wife.

“I owe you my life and I owe you my thanks
and any boon from me you may seek to claim
your acts will not go on unaswered I swear
i'll repay your deed in our kings name

(But) Words are aren't as strong, as the acts of the wrong
and nothing can bring back the slain,
The King made it clear and his subjects would hear,
that all pay their due in his reign

The king gave his vow and the couple went pale,
and man's knuckles gripped with a chilling bone white
the wife quiet stood, and without a word left,
her eyes were bereft of all light.

The king was surprised and he asked if he'd wronged,
to bring on such anger to cause such sorrow
and after a moment the old man just sighed
and he said to the king, soft and hollow.

“Words aren't as strong as the acts of the wrong
and nothing can bring back the slain
our king made it clear and his subjects would hear
that all pay their due in his reign

“The cloths that you wear are the only things left
of the children we raised on this farmland of ours.
My own little boys were my pride and my joy
and they grew up young men with good hearts.

But winter is hard, and sometimes you can't count
on the grass growing high, or the stocks giving head,
so when the king came for the tax in the spring,
he took my own pride in it's stead.

(NO CHORUS)

So do not speak to me the name of our king
and forgive my wife now if she chooses to leave
that man is not welcome, while his people bleed,
his name will cause nothing but grief.”

The next day the army found that little stead,
they'd followed the swallow, through village and wood,
to look for the king, or to look for his corpse
to follow his own trail of blood.

(And) Words aren't as strong as the acts of the wrong
and nothing can bring back the slain
the king made it clear and his subjects would hear
that all pay their due in his reign

The king joined his army but gone were his degs
instead he wore red, and some fine peasant rags
his soldiers marched home, but they lowered their flags,
in each town they left a tithe bag

The couple had started when they learned the name,
who they'd woke with and spoke with under their own roof,
he'd offered them treasure, in gold or in fame,
but they scoffed at his words in reproof.

Chorus

Words aren't as strong as the acts of the wrong
and nothing can bring back the slain
the king made it clear and his subjects would hear
that all pay their due in his reign

So on the way back the king took of the gift
those coffers he'd offered that husband and wife
he vowed that he'd work hard to make his word right,
to clear his name over from strife.

Out in the west there's an old honored king
who takes what he makes, and gives up when it's just
he's worked his whole life to make right every deed
and his people put him in great trust.

Now words are as strong, as the acts of the wrong
though nothing can bring back the slain,
The King make's it clear and his subjects will hear,
that all pay their due in his reign.

Documentation / Explanation (Razo): 

Drake the Bard wrote this amazing song "The King's Name" and I loved it so much that I wanted to write a more 'story' book version. For a filking competition for Hartwood Yule I wrote this to the tune "Massacre of Glencoe".