1. |
Dale Foots
03:32
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My name is dale foots and I found the old door
from travelling from fighting in 1104
through dungeons as deep as my sorrows before
dressed in the green death of life ever more
my name is dale foots and i fell through the floor
threres no grave no trail no home no lore
my name is dale foots and i fell, down to hell
and my name is dale foots
my name is dale foots and the truth i do tell
through dungeon i wandered, through floor i fell
i swear by the sword the devil Is real
and by stag and wood and sword i'd tell
of fires that burned neath hills and old dale
where no grave could hold me, my soul id not sale
repeat chorus
And my name is stil daaallle foootsss
and my name was dale foots
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2. |
The ratter of dale
04:01
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Through both wood and Dale
through fog stair and vale
walks the ratter of dale
underwood and road
song of moss and toad
through both wall and stone
over days long ago
walks the ratter of Dale
the rats eyes shine, by shattered lantern light
where walls wildly unwind
in everlasting night
repeat
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3. |
Rattus the boiler
05:15
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He walks, tender footly
over hills and glens, surely
where underfoot, rats gnaw old worlds
and knot in tales, below sleeping men
by day a workhand or whistler or bookman
Often called Derry John, a builder of rickety fence
By night a ratman, a swordsman, a were thing
often bubbling mens bones to a low broth
wandering he mingles in the society of men
walking in and around them, gangly and thin
Underneath the city he often found true home
or in a hollow, jellied brains spread well over bone
He sings:
Royal blue, Musketeer! Rat man, enemy of ratter and lost Dale
Swordsman, champion of the cook-off, Rattus the bioler in the shining moon
Bubbling bean pot fills the cracks of night
Cauldron blisters as he ladles and spoons
A family crest upon his hidden shield-kite
Waxing his whiskers as he cradles the cheese of moon
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4. |
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Found the glow
By open road
When the moon was pale and low
Found the trail that never lead home...where everything was made...silver
The horse snorted and bucked...and Roy Cecil turned to bucking and dancing
The horse turned into a briars patch...when the moon was pale an low
Found the trail, that never lead home...when everything was made...silver
The fireball spoke loud and clear; and Roy Cecil turned, with newly frosted beard..said "oh, lord, you'll never leave here"...
And Roy Cecil turned to bucking and to dancing...
Old Roy Cecil, turned to bucking and dancing turned to bucking and dancing...oh, turned to harassing and romancing
Roy Cecil turned into bucking and danc'n...turned into harassing and romancing
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5. |
The brains of rats
06:35
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Man he dances on the brains of rats
man he domesticates wild cats
man he teaches wolves to dogs
man he writes in shining stars
By right of science he changed our secret names
by torchlight he chased us away
by lies and words he trapped us in a cage
by superstition he left us in a maze
man he forgets his nature and wants to leave
behind the world he ruined and up into the sky
man he forgets old gods that grew from moss and stone
behind he leaves us, and we gnaw along his bones...
By black folk lore i call forth
new eyes to blaze the olden ways
by the cheese wedge trap of poisoned moon
I ask our cries be heard!
by the throne you stole,
we gnaw neath your rotten cores
by the shining things we stole.
by dungeons begone and old!
PESILENCE AND WAR!
FEVER AND SORES!
FEAR AND LORE!
EAT THROUGH THE FLOORS WE'LL EAT THROUGH THE FLOORS!
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Count Beetle Marshall, Arkansas
You would not know of us...nor of our longstory, never told.
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