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Burning
Joan |
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The
lament sung by the amorous prison guard, when he fails to engage the affections
of the indifferent Joan. I was a yeoman and I was a soldier When I sailed from Dover the weather was fine For Loval and Launceston Sir Thomas of Taunton For Ranolf and Rudall my comrades and I But I earned my spurs as a turnkey For St George and a farthing a day My battles were fought through the dungeons and vaults My enemies battered with pulley's and chains But shock-headed Joan was my beauty She was my jewel and my prize Scratching her tits in the blood and the shit Plucking the lice from her thoroughbred thighs Sometimes at her cell I would linger To watch while she crouched in the straw I'd be stroking her hair and she'd sullenly glare But she never acknowledged my presence at all So I shed no tears as the brazier crackled and rang The arquebusiers and the flower of chivalry sang Oh Joannie oh Joannie the tumbrel and the pony Through the ranks of the yeomanry steer The gallows is cold and the gibbet is lonely We'll make things hot for you here See I thought that I was her friend and protector Compassion I readily gave And oft of a while sympathetically smiled As the callous inquisitors hammered away But she never returned my affection Nor ever my homage received And since in my dreams as she spatters and screams I secretly doubt she was thinking of me As the flames licked her arse and her belly For she never a glimmer betrayed So I cast off my conscience I joined with the band And I fiddled while Joan burned away Chords: Intro. E E7 Verse/Chorus A D A E A D E (A) Alternate Verse/Instr. D A D A D A F#m E Bridge D A F#m E Ending E E7 A
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