Azincourt

The King has spoken :
‘Death to these men !’
I strongly disagree
But I must pay my fee

Longbows won’t be drawn
Swords and axes do moan
It seems the weapons too
Think the way is too cruel

Today, we gain a battle
But we loose much much more
‘Cause high up on his saddle
The King makes all of us sore

From now on til the end
Our enemies will be right
For the weapons did bend
They fell and filled us with fright