Sir Bertram

(To the tune of, and inspired by, "Harry Pollitt"
as performed by The Limeliters)

Sir Bertram was a fighter,
The mightiest of dukes.
He died for real on the tourney field,
And the marshalls cried, "Gadzooks!"

The marshalls cried, "Gadzooks!"
The marshalls cried, "Gadzooks!"
His chin strap broke and his skull did too,
And the marshalls cried, "Gadzooks!"

So Bertram went to Heaven.
He reached the Gates with ease,
Said, "May I speak with His Majesty?
I'm Duke Sir Bertram, please."

"I'm Duke Sir Bertram, please.
I'm Duke Sir Bertram, please.
I'd like a word with His Grace the King,
I'm Duke Sir Bertram, please."

"Who are you?" said St. Peter,
"Are you humble and contrite?"
"I'm a servant of the humble,
I'm a perfect gentil knight."

A perfect gentil knight,
A perfect gentil knight,
"It's quite a while," St. Peter cried,
"Since last we saw a knight."

They gave him wings and halo,
And a sword and shield of light,
So he rounded up the dearly departed
And he taught them how to fight.

He taught them how to fight.
He taught them how to fight.
Heaven was too darned peaceful,
So he taught them how to fight.

One day when God was walking
Back from early Mass,
Whom should he see but Bertram,
Holding tourney on the grass!

Holding tourney on the grass,
Tourney on the grass,
Angels and the warrior dead
In tourney on the grass.

St. Michael was the marshall,
St. Gabriel cried "Oyez!"
St. Patrick blessed the fighters
Ere they rushed off to the fray.

And did they rush off to the fray!
Oh boy they rushed off to the fray!
The Irish and the English dead
Had quite a grand melée!

"What do you think you're doing?"
The Lord God bid them say.
"Your fighting's done, your race is won,
You're here to sing and pray."

"You're here to sing and pray,
You're here to sing and pray.
Every woman, child, and man
(Spoken) — And where'd you get rattan?!"

So Bertram went on trial
Before the Holy Ghost,
For spreading disaffection
Amongst the heavenly host.

Amongst the heavenly host,
Amongst the heavenly host,
St. Raphael took the stand and swore
Bert ruined the heavenly host.

The verdict it was "Guilty".
The good duke said, "Ah, well."
He jammed his helmet on his head,
And he drifted down to Hell.

He drifted down to Hell.
He drifted down to Hell.
With tourney armor and duct-taped sword
He drifted down to Hell.

Now seven long years have passed,
And Bertie's doing swell:
He's won the first Crown Tourney
Of a kingdom there in Hell.

A kingdom there in Hell,
A kingdom there in Hell,
He's won the first Crown Tourney
Of the SCA in Hell.

—Calafia
a.d. VI Non. Mai. 2755 (5/2/2002)

The moral of this story
Is easy for to tell:
If you want to be a Scadian,
You'll have to go to Hell.

We'll have to go to Hell,
We'll have to go to Hell,
Heaven's a little set in its ways,
But they still have kings in Hell.

—Calafia
Non. Iul. 2755 (7/7/2002)