Whisky for my men, beer for my horses!
- Thread starter The_Gunslinger658
- Start date
The_Gunslinger658
First Post
Howdy Folks-
Hmmmmm, and I thought Heavy Metal and punk died with the advent Kurt Cobains smell's like teen spirit CD.
Nontheless, another tune that gets my creative thinking going is Blue Oysters Cults "Veteran of the Psi wars" great stuff when your getting an NPC that uses Psi together to mess with the players.
As an aside, you people need to get out of the 80's and into the 21st century!
Scott
Hmmmmm, and I thought Heavy Metal and punk died with the advent Kurt Cobains smell's like teen spirit CD.
Nontheless, another tune that gets my creative thinking going is Blue Oysters Cults "Veteran of the Psi wars" great stuff when your getting an NPC that uses Psi together to mess with the players.
As an aside, you people need to get out of the 80's and into the 21st century!
Scott
Ghostwind
First Post
I've always thought that The Calling's Wherever You Will Go was a great source of inspiration. Picture the haggard warrior on the eve of a battle that he is certain to lose looking at his sleeping wife/companion (perhaps a fellow adventurer) and thinking about what is to come.
Scarbonac
Not An Evil Twin
Here's a few Kris Kristofferson songs that seem appropriate:
This one has become the basis for a legend about a bard IMC.
The Sabre And The Rose
Feet hit the ground; feet leaving town
Quicker than a bullet or a knife
Falling ain't no fun when you're on the run
Honey we was runnin' for our life
When Stagger Lee had drunk his fill of moonlight
He turned his burnin' eyes upon my soul
It's time, by God, to spend this night with someone else , he said.
Squeeze a little pleasure from the gold (love glory, children)
We can take it easy when we're old.
He said, We'll take us into town, lay our money down
I'll bring you to the sweetest thing that grows
Because the fairest ones in sight are bloomin' every night at a tavern
Called the Sabre and the Rose.
We swang into the saddle slick as breathing
And slapped 'em once for pleasure with the reins
The horses snorted frosty in the moonlight
Somethin' dark was singing in my veins
Older than the voices in my brain.
He said, This place you're gonna see is where they live and breathe
And sink down a little bit deeper every day
And sometimes at night, when the wind is runnin' right,
You can hear it suckin' thirty miles away
Then the light was crimson and I found her,
All naked and eternal and insane
Sacred as the mysteries around her like a veil
Nothin' but her prison was profane
All we had in common was our chains.
Ah-burn it down boys
Burn it to the ground, boys
Burn it on down
Feet hit the ground; feet leaving town
Quicker than a bullet or a knife
All the way she ran holdin' to my hand
Runnin' for the river and our life
Slidin' from the moonlight into shadows
Silent as the river as it flows
Swimmin' to the place they'll never find us
All we left behind us was our clothes
And the stories, children,
Sing about The Sabre and the Rose
Feet hit the ground; feet leaving town
Quicker than a bullet or a knife
Falling ain't no fun when you're on the run
Honey we was runnin' for our life
When Stagger Lee had drunk his fill of moonlight
He turned his burnin' eyes upon my soul
It's time, by God, to spend this night with someone else , he said.
Squeeze a little pleasure from the gold (love glory, children)
We can take it easy when we're old.
He said, We'll take us into town, lay our money down
I'll bring you to the sweetest thing that grows
Because the fairest ones in sight are bloomin' every night at a tavern
Called the Sabre and the Rose.
We swang into the saddle slick as breathing
And slapped 'em once for pleasure with the reins
The horses snorted frosty in the moonlight
Somethin' dark was singing in my veins
Older than the voices in my brain.
He said, This place you're gonna see is where they live and breathe
And sink down a little bit deeper every day
And sometimes at night, when the wind is runnin' right,
You can hear it suckin' thirty miles away
Then the light was crimson and I found her,
All naked and eternal and insane
Sacred as the mysteries around her like a veil
Nothin' but her prison was profane
All we had in common was our chains.
Ah-burn it down boys
Burn it to the ground, boys
Burn it on down
Feet hit the ground; feet leaving town
Quicker than a bullet or a knife
All the way she ran holdin' to my hand
Runnin' for the river and our life
Slidin' from the moonlight into shadows
Silent as the river as it flows
Swimmin' to the place they'll never find us
All we left behind us was our clothes
And the stories, children,
Sing about The Sabre and the Rose
This one has become the basis for a legend about a bard IMC.
Silver (The Hunger)
Silver was a rounder with a wicked reputation
Music was his magic and his madness rolled in one
It's said he charmed the fairest hearts of this world's fairest maidens
Quick as silver mercury and slippery as a song
Winding like a river through a thirsty world of strangers
Carving out a legend in a dream-forsaken land
Silver took his pleasures just as freely as he gave them
'Cause hungry eyes weren't quick enough for Silver's flashing hands
Then once upon escaping from the world of silk and shadows
Sudden growin' sicker of the secrets and the shame
He stumbled onto something real that beckoned like a candle
And never lookin' backwards, he surrendered to the flame
Chorus:
Because Hunger, is the surface, of a darkened pool of sadness
Silver pale reflection of a deeper need below
Mystery and magic are the holy forms of madness
Sacred as the ecstasy that slumbers in your soul
Silver moved instinctively within her soft defenses
Soon unfolding mysteries he'd never seen before
And wakening an ancient need, she slipped inside his senses
And Silver took it easy as the closing of a door
Then soon he touched the secret fears she'd hidden with her sorrows
Darker than her raven hair and deeper than her eyes
And dared to try to lead her to the sunlight from her shadows
Following the line between her laughter and her lies
But Silver left his magic with the legend he'd abandoned
Love had stripped him naked of illusion and it's charms
Then one long night her changing mind took kindly to a stranger
And morning found her moving in the golden stranger's arms
Chorus:
Because Hunger, is the surface, of a darkened pool of sadness
Silver pale reflection of a deeper need below
Mystery and magic are the holy forms of madness
Sacred as the ecstasy that slumbers in your soul
Silver stared in silence at the tangled scene before him
Time was burning frozen in the oceans of his eyes
And sadly turning backwards to the world that he'd forsaken
He donned the shining mantle of deception and disguise
Slowly, with the patience born of silent desperation
Silver worked his way into the darkness of her mind
Weaving through her conscience like a chance she might have taken
Sadder than the shadows of the love she'll never find
And Silver's spell was stronger than the softly smiling stranger
Whose star was burning smaller in the naked light of day
And Silver took her hand again, a wiser man, but sadder
Ready for the stranger who would steal her love away
Chorus:
Because Hunger, is the surface, of a darkened pool of sadness
Silver pale reflection of a deeper need below
Mystery and magic are the holy forms of madness
Sworn to free the ecstasy that slumbers in your soul
Silver was a rounder with a wicked reputation
Music was his magic and his madness rolled in one
It's said he charmed the fairest hearts of this world's fairest maidens
Quick as silver mercury and slippery as a song
Winding like a river through a thirsty world of strangers
Carving out a legend in a dream-forsaken land
Silver took his pleasures just as freely as he gave them
'Cause hungry eyes weren't quick enough for Silver's flashing hands
Then once upon escaping from the world of silk and shadows
Sudden growin' sicker of the secrets and the shame
He stumbled onto something real that beckoned like a candle
And never lookin' backwards, he surrendered to the flame
Chorus:
Because Hunger, is the surface, of a darkened pool of sadness
Silver pale reflection of a deeper need below
Mystery and magic are the holy forms of madness
Sacred as the ecstasy that slumbers in your soul
Silver moved instinctively within her soft defenses
Soon unfolding mysteries he'd never seen before
And wakening an ancient need, she slipped inside his senses
And Silver took it easy as the closing of a door
Then soon he touched the secret fears she'd hidden with her sorrows
Darker than her raven hair and deeper than her eyes
And dared to try to lead her to the sunlight from her shadows
Following the line between her laughter and her lies
But Silver left his magic with the legend he'd abandoned
Love had stripped him naked of illusion and it's charms
Then one long night her changing mind took kindly to a stranger
And morning found her moving in the golden stranger's arms
Chorus:
Because Hunger, is the surface, of a darkened pool of sadness
Silver pale reflection of a deeper need below
Mystery and magic are the holy forms of madness
Sacred as the ecstasy that slumbers in your soul
Silver stared in silence at the tangled scene before him
Time was burning frozen in the oceans of his eyes
And sadly turning backwards to the world that he'd forsaken
He donned the shining mantle of deception and disguise
Slowly, with the patience born of silent desperation
Silver worked his way into the darkness of her mind
Weaving through her conscience like a chance she might have taken
Sadder than the shadows of the love she'll never find
And Silver's spell was stronger than the softly smiling stranger
Whose star was burning smaller in the naked light of day
And Silver took her hand again, a wiser man, but sadder
Ready for the stranger who would steal her love away
Chorus:
Because Hunger, is the surface, of a darkened pool of sadness
Silver pale reflection of a deeper need below
Mystery and magic are the holy forms of madness
Sworn to free the ecstasy that slumbers in your soul
Saeviomagy
Adventurer
Ya'll wanna go try some blind guardian...
VirgilCaine
First Post
Legend of Wooley Swamp is a favorite of mine.
TheAuldGrump
First Post
Greezly Bride (Harry Tuft)
Lie still my newly wedded wife
Rest easy as you can
You're young and ill accustomed yet
To lyin' with a man
The snow was deep
The moon was full
As it shown on the cabin floor
His young bride rose without a word
To run barefoot through the door
Up he went and after her
And an angry man was he
But his young bride wasn't e'er in sight
And only the moon shown clearly
He followed her tracks in the new deep snow
Calling alud her name
But only the dingos in the hills
Howled back at him again
Her nightgown lay upon the snow
As it might on a bed sheet
But the tracks that followed after then
Were never of human feet
The hair stood up along his neck
And his angry mind was gone
For where the two foot track left off
A four foot track went on
First he began to walkin' back
Then he began to run
His quarry turned all in her tracks
And hunted him in turn
An empty bed still waits for him
He lies in a crimson tide
Beware, beware bold trapper man
Beware of a greezly bride.
Greezly Bride is an Australlian song about a werewolf.
Reynardine (Traditional)
One evening as I rambled, all on the springing thyme,
I overheard a pretty fair maiden converse with Reynardine.
He said, "My pretty fair maiden, your beauty shines most clear,
And on this lonesome mountain, I'm glad to meet you here."
She said, "Young man, be civil; my company forsake,
For to my good opinion, I fear you are a rake,
And if my parents came to know, my life they would destroy,
For keeping of your company, all on the mountain high."
Oh no, my dear, I am no rake, brought up in Venus' train,
But I'm searching for concealment, all in the judge's men.
Your beauty has ensnared me, I can not pass you by.
And with my gun I'll guard you, all on the mountain high.
With eyes as bright as amber upon her he did gaze
With that my pretty fair maid she stood all in amaze
no sooner had he kissed her, her cheeks they lost their dye
She fell into his arms all on the mountain high
He kissed her once, he kissed her twice
Till she came to again
And modestly she asked him
"Kind sir, what is your name?"
Well if by chance you look for me, by chance you'll not me find
'Tis writ in ancient history, my name is Reynardine."
Sun and dark she followed him, his teeth so bright did shine
And he led her over the mountains, that sly bold Reynardine
So come all you pretty fair maidens, this warning take by me.
Never go a roving, and shun bad company,
For if you do, you'll surely rue until the day you die.
And beware of meeting Reynardine, all on the mountain high.
Reynardine of course is a vampire...
The Witch’s Reel (Traditional)
Cummer go ye before, cummer go ye
If ye willna go before, cummer let me
Ring-a-ring-a-widdershins
Linkin' lithely widdershins
Cummer carlin, crone and queen
Roun' go we
Cummer go ye before, cummer go ye
If ye willna go before, cummer let me
Ring-a-ring-a-widdershins
Loupin' lightly widdershins
Kilted coats and fleein' hair
Three times three
Cummer go ye before, cummer go ye
If ye willna go before, cummer let me
Ring-a-ring-a-widdershins
Whirlin' skirlin' widdershins
De'il tak the hindmost
Who'er she be
There is a lot of history tied to this one, involving the King of England and Scotland, and a supposed attempt to assasinate him by witchcraft. King James of King James Bible fame is not my favorite person in history... Several thousand people were executed for witchcraft in his reign, among other things he changed the rules of evidence so the accused had to prove she was not a witch...
Barrett’s Privatreers (Stan Rogers)
O the year was 1778
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
A letter of marque came from the king
To the scummiest vessel I've ever seen
God damn them all
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers
O Elcid Barrett cried the town
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
For twenty brave men all fishermen who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew
God damn them all . . . .
The Antelope sloop was a sickening site
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
She'd list to the port and her sails in rags
And the cook in the scuppers with the staggers and jags
God damn them all . . . .
On the King's birthday we put to sea
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Ninety-one days to Montego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way
God damn them all . . . .
On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
When a great big Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight
God damn them all . . . .
The Yankee lay low down with gold
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
She was broad and fat and loose in stays
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days
God damn them all . . . .
Then at length she stood two cables away
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Our cracked four-pounders made awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in
God damn them all . . . .
The Antelope shook and pitched on her side
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs
And the main truck carried off both me legs
God damn them all . . . .
Now here I lay in my twenty-third year
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
It's been six years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday
God damn them all . . . .
Stan Rogers also wrote Northwest Passage, but I only wanted to have one of his songs. The satire for Barret's Privateers - Garnetts Homemade Beer - follows...
1. Oh the year was nineteen seventy-eight,
(How I wish I'd never tried it now,)
When a score of men were turned quite green
By the scummiest ale you've ever seen
Chorus:
God damn them all,
I was told this beer was worth its weight in gold
We'd feel no pain, shed no tears,
But it's a foolish man who shows no fear
At a glass of Garnett's homemade beer.
2. Now Garnett Rogers cried the town
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
For 20 brave men all masochists who
Would taste for him his homemade brew.
3. This motley crew were a sickening sight
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
There was caveman Dave with his eyes in bags
He'd a hard-boiled liver and the staggers and jags.
4. We hadn't been there but an hour or two
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
When a voice said "Give me some homemade brew"
As steeleyed Stan hove into view.
5. Now steeleyed Stand was a frightening man
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
He was eight foot tall and four foot wide
Said "pass that jug or I'll tan your hide.
6. Stan took one sip and pitched on his side
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
Garnett was smashed with a cupful of dregs
And his breath set fire to both me legs.
7. Now here I am with my 23rd beer
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
It's six long years since I felt this way
On the night before my wedding day.
Garnett was Stan's brother, and I gather that his homemade brew was indeed something to be feared.
There are others, I collect folk music you see...
The Auld Grump
*EDIT* How odd, my word processor had changed dregs to drugs... So back go the dregs, I shall drink thee to the lees.
Lie still my newly wedded wife
Rest easy as you can
You're young and ill accustomed yet
To lyin' with a man
The snow was deep
The moon was full
As it shown on the cabin floor
His young bride rose without a word
To run barefoot through the door
Up he went and after her
And an angry man was he
But his young bride wasn't e'er in sight
And only the moon shown clearly
He followed her tracks in the new deep snow
Calling alud her name
But only the dingos in the hills
Howled back at him again
Her nightgown lay upon the snow
As it might on a bed sheet
But the tracks that followed after then
Were never of human feet
The hair stood up along his neck
And his angry mind was gone
For where the two foot track left off
A four foot track went on
First he began to walkin' back
Then he began to run
His quarry turned all in her tracks
And hunted him in turn
An empty bed still waits for him
He lies in a crimson tide
Beware, beware bold trapper man
Beware of a greezly bride.
Greezly Bride is an Australlian song about a werewolf.
Reynardine (Traditional)
One evening as I rambled, all on the springing thyme,
I overheard a pretty fair maiden converse with Reynardine.
He said, "My pretty fair maiden, your beauty shines most clear,
And on this lonesome mountain, I'm glad to meet you here."
She said, "Young man, be civil; my company forsake,
For to my good opinion, I fear you are a rake,
And if my parents came to know, my life they would destroy,
For keeping of your company, all on the mountain high."
Oh no, my dear, I am no rake, brought up in Venus' train,
But I'm searching for concealment, all in the judge's men.
Your beauty has ensnared me, I can not pass you by.
And with my gun I'll guard you, all on the mountain high.
With eyes as bright as amber upon her he did gaze
With that my pretty fair maid she stood all in amaze
no sooner had he kissed her, her cheeks they lost their dye
She fell into his arms all on the mountain high
He kissed her once, he kissed her twice
Till she came to again
And modestly she asked him
"Kind sir, what is your name?"
Well if by chance you look for me, by chance you'll not me find
'Tis writ in ancient history, my name is Reynardine."
Sun and dark she followed him, his teeth so bright did shine
And he led her over the mountains, that sly bold Reynardine
So come all you pretty fair maidens, this warning take by me.
Never go a roving, and shun bad company,
For if you do, you'll surely rue until the day you die.
And beware of meeting Reynardine, all on the mountain high.
Reynardine of course is a vampire...
The Witch’s Reel (Traditional)
Cummer go ye before, cummer go ye
If ye willna go before, cummer let me
Ring-a-ring-a-widdershins
Linkin' lithely widdershins
Cummer carlin, crone and queen
Roun' go we
Cummer go ye before, cummer go ye
If ye willna go before, cummer let me
Ring-a-ring-a-widdershins
Loupin' lightly widdershins
Kilted coats and fleein' hair
Three times three
Cummer go ye before, cummer go ye
If ye willna go before, cummer let me
Ring-a-ring-a-widdershins
Whirlin' skirlin' widdershins
De'il tak the hindmost
Who'er she be
There is a lot of history tied to this one, involving the King of England and Scotland, and a supposed attempt to assasinate him by witchcraft. King James of King James Bible fame is not my favorite person in history... Several thousand people were executed for witchcraft in his reign, among other things he changed the rules of evidence so the accused had to prove she was not a witch...
Barrett’s Privatreers (Stan Rogers)
O the year was 1778
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
A letter of marque came from the king
To the scummiest vessel I've ever seen
God damn them all
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers
O Elcid Barrett cried the town
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
For twenty brave men all fishermen who
Would make for him the Antelope's crew
God damn them all . . . .
The Antelope sloop was a sickening site
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
She'd list to the port and her sails in rags
And the cook in the scuppers with the staggers and jags
God damn them all . . . .
On the King's birthday we put to sea
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Ninety-one days to Montego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way
God damn them all . . . .
On the ninety-sixth day we sailed again
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
When a great big Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight
God damn them all . . . .
The Yankee lay low down with gold
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
She was broad and fat and loose in stays
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days
God damn them all . . . .
Then at length she stood two cables away
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Our cracked four-pounders made awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in
God damn them all . . . .
The Antelope shook and pitched on her side
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs
And the main truck carried off both me legs
God damn them all . . . .
Now here I lay in my twenty-third year
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now
It's been six years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday
God damn them all . . . .
Stan Rogers also wrote Northwest Passage, but I only wanted to have one of his songs. The satire for Barret's Privateers - Garnetts Homemade Beer - follows...
1. Oh the year was nineteen seventy-eight,
(How I wish I'd never tried it now,)
When a score of men were turned quite green
By the scummiest ale you've ever seen
Chorus:
God damn them all,
I was told this beer was worth its weight in gold
We'd feel no pain, shed no tears,
But it's a foolish man who shows no fear
At a glass of Garnett's homemade beer.
2. Now Garnett Rogers cried the town
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
For 20 brave men all masochists who
Would taste for him his homemade brew.
3. This motley crew were a sickening sight
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
There was caveman Dave with his eyes in bags
He'd a hard-boiled liver and the staggers and jags.
4. We hadn't been there but an hour or two
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
When a voice said "Give me some homemade brew"
As steeleyed Stan hove into view.
5. Now steeleyed Stand was a frightening man
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
He was eight foot tall and four foot wide
Said "pass that jug or I'll tan your hide.
6. Stan took one sip and pitched on his side
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
Garnett was smashed with a cupful of dregs
And his breath set fire to both me legs.
7. Now here I am with my 23rd beer
(how I wish I'd never tried it now,)
It's six long years since I felt this way
On the night before my wedding day.
Garnett was Stan's brother, and I gather that his homemade brew was indeed something to be feared.
There are others, I collect folk music you see...
The Auld Grump
*EDIT* How odd, my word processor had changed dregs to drugs... So back go the dregs, I shall drink thee to the lees.
Last edited:
Desdichado
Hero
Ah, the 80s... when music was fun. As to getting into the 21st century, no thanks. I'm a crotchety old man before my time.Doomed Battalions said:
Scarbonac
Not An Evil Twin
W00t! Haven't heard "Reynardine" in ages, but now I have it threading through the murky pathways of my brain.
A Man You Don't Meet Every Day (The Pogue's version)
Oh my name is Jock Stewart
I'm a canny gun man
And a roving young fellow I've been
So be easy and free
when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day
I have acres of land
I have men at command
I have always a shilling to spare
So be easy and free
when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day
So come fill up your glasses
of brandy and wine
Whatever it costs I will pay
So be easy and free
when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day
Well I took out my dog
and him I did shoot
All down in the county Kildare
So be easy and free
when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day
The Ballad of Sawney Bean (Snakefinger)
When I'd come down from Liverpool the day was dull and bleak
I met an old seafaring man, his name was Jack McTeague
He told to me a story about a robber, mean
Who lived a cave on the Scottish coast and his name was Sawney Bean
'Twas in the reign of Jolly James in 1424
His incestuously inbred family patrolled the Gallway shore
They robbed the innocent travellers but worse than that they did
Well they feasted on roasted murdered men and then their bones they hid
When good KIng James, he heard of this he sent four hundred men
On hooks in the cave they found human flesh and they took the family in
The women they burned in the public square but not before they'd seen
The men bleeding to death with no hands and feet and their leader Sawney Bean
Oh my name is Jock Stewart
I'm a canny gun man
And a roving young fellow I've been
So be easy and free
when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day
I have acres of land
I have men at command
I have always a shilling to spare
So be easy and free
when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day
So come fill up your glasses
of brandy and wine
Whatever it costs I will pay
So be easy and free
when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day
Well I took out my dog
and him I did shoot
All down in the county Kildare
So be easy and free
when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day
The Ballad of Sawney Bean (Snakefinger)
When I'd come down from Liverpool the day was dull and bleak
I met an old seafaring man, his name was Jack McTeague
He told to me a story about a robber, mean
Who lived a cave on the Scottish coast and his name was Sawney Bean
'Twas in the reign of Jolly James in 1424
His incestuously inbred family patrolled the Gallway shore
They robbed the innocent travellers but worse than that they did
Well they feasted on roasted murdered men and then their bones they hid
When good KIng James, he heard of this he sent four hundred men
On hooks in the cave they found human flesh and they took the family in
The women they burned in the public square but not before they'd seen
The men bleeding to death with no hands and feet and their leader Sawney Bean
