Post War Depression
Post War Depression
© 2005 George Reed
I haven’t seen my armor since I got home from war…
Until today I never saw that shade of green before…
The King has invited me to fight in the next Crown…
My armor will be sure to kill the ones I can’t knock down…
Go tell the ladies to beware! Don’t go out alone….
My armor’s somewhere in the camp…walking on its own…
Scrubbing armor on the move isn’t all that fun…
I thought the worst was over til I found my gambeson…
My lady saw it and she fled…running at such speed…
At last report they said she was approach far Caid…
Go tell the ladies to beware! Don’t go out alone….
My armor’s somewhere in the camp…walking on its own…
I came across my feast gear beneath the kitchen stair…
At first glance I thought it was a cat with purple hair…
My tnkard was half full of mead…and smelled of witches brew…
When I tried to clean it all, the silver beat me blue…
Go tell the ladies to beware! Don’t go out alone….
My armor’s somewhere in the camp…walking on its own…
I found my tent all mildewed and buried in the car…
I’ll have to buy another one or sleep beneath the stars…
I think next year when I get home, I’ll boil my gear clean…
Otherwise I’ll have to buy…garb that goes with green…
Go tell the ladies to beware! Don’t go out alone….
My armor’s somewhere in the camp…walking on its own…
Posted: December 29th, 2005 under Songs.
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