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Bawdy Song
May 3, 2002

A toast to noble lady

in cheer she tips her glass

and when her cup is empty

she flashes us her

Assassins in the courtyard

they’ll have to catch him quick

he’s out to find a lady

and stick her with his

Dicker with the merchants

and haggle over stock

be sure its by the arm length

not measured by his

Cocktails after dinner

and songs sung by a bard

advances from a comely lass

are sure to make him

Hardened in the oven

his tankard is the best

he spun it on his potter’s wheel

and shaped it like

Abreast the men stand ready

their weapons poised for war

they’re dreaming of last evening

how they spent it with a

Hoarse a man lies dying

a little death in bead

he thinks no way is better

his wife gives him good

Heading to a party

she’s happy to have stayed

for the rumour down at Pennsic

is that everyone gets

Laid out on the table

fair trimmings and a roast

good gentles stand together

I’d like to give a

Toast!