Parcel of Rogues
December 07, 2003
Wolfgang's Parting Song
by Lord Wolfgang vom Bruch
Farewell to all our values high
farewell our ancient glory
the times of freedom have gone by
are left to minstrel's story
The harvest of the trees we grew
is picked by traitors dire
the royals never had a clue
Such a parcel of rogues in a shire
What clerks or crowns could not subdue
through many reigns and seasons
is rot now by a courtiers few
for medal greedy reasons
The fighters' swords we could disdain
no titles our desire
but reckless toadies were our bane
Such a parcel of rogues in a shire
Our bards were known throughout the lands
our stories met with cheering
a jolly club a merry band
not bound by laws of peering
Now music's banned from streets and halls
no joy-full song or choir
just humble praises and grave hums
brought this parcel of rogue to our shire
I never though I'd see the day
that liberty would leave us
that inner strive would bring dismay
and force me from my home thus
But ere I yield I'd rather see
our towers set on fire
my bardic freedom needs no wall
nor that parcel of rogues in our shire