The Golden Apple

The Ballad of Brave Sir Clod

Lyrics & Melody by Guy Hepworth, Chris Kennish & Michael Crook

Attend the tale of brave Sir Clod.
His skull was thick his squire was odd
The amount of men he’d slain in war
Numbered something like sixty four

Over the hills he would gallop,
His lance tucked in his stirrup

All clad in steel he roamed the land,
To rescue maidens and lend a hand
His odd squire much preferred to keep,
The company of the farmers sheep


His passion for battle burned inside,
Dragons and trolls would run and hide
The only sight that would calm him down,
Was odd squire in his taffeta gown


Maidens flocked to his heel,
To penetrate his shiny steel
But he was chaste and he said no,
But for half a pint all the way he’d go


He jousted many a brave sir knight;
Some would stare and then take flight
It wasn’t his lance that won the day;
His codpiece had the final say


One day our hero had to rest,
He’d buggered up his latest quest
Instead of saving the damsel fair
He fucked the dragon and burnt his hair


Tired of roaming far away,
He thought he’d take a soldier’s pay
To the guild of Eris he did ride
Just to be on the winning side


He boldly road up to Lord Swan,
Cried if your looking then I’m the one
Came the reply from altogether
That’s not big and it’s not clever


He rode away his head hung low,
His heart displayed on his saddlebow
But when a feisty wench caught his eye,
He would prove himself or he would die

And so off brave Sir Clod rode into the distance to find himself a challenge worthy of his prowess in battle simply to impress a maiden. Then he saw it, coming towards him on the horizon a lone traveller yet possessed with such phenomenal powers of boredom even the trees and plants withered as he passed.

Sir Clod reasoned that if he could defeat such a Monster surely he would be fit for the ranks of the Eris Guild. He faced him all alone, odd squire had buggered off. And as he closed the distance between them, he could feel the weight of unfathomable boredom beginning to buckle his armour.

He issued his challenge, he raised his sword but Horror, his eyes glazed, his sword was stilled in mid-stroke, he couldn't get a word in edge ways, he toppled to the ground.

And still to this very day if you travel to that lonely hillock on a dark and stormy night, you can still hear the dying words of brave Sir Clod “Please just Shut it!!!”

CHORUS (slow) X2

CHORUS (fast) X2