Jaldaboath

Mead can do many things it can even make you blind And the tavern wenches round these parts drive me out of my mind There's on such girl of whom I know who's been around the block For fifteen duckets and a bucket of milk she'll even roost your cock.

A holy man, with a whispering castrato A wrinkled face, like a sun-dried tomato He farms the hills of Brighthelmstone Boring all with persistent drone In his holy red-striped shawl, he tends to his sacred vegetables. He warns us we must live another