Work Songs of The Verdante Trail
The following are traditional songs, sung amongst the workers of the Verdante, in particular
The Verdante Trail. One of the most unique cultures in Anhara, the people of the Verdante put emphasis on hard-work, know-how, and reputation over the silver-tongued words of urban politicians, leading to a distinct difference between them and their immediate neighbors, the Coquet Heights.
Songs
Found mainly in
Wooden Ways, or
Work Songs of The Verdante Trail. Songs from the Verdante and cross Anhara are actively recorded by the
Songbirds of
The Perch.
The Wooded Crawl
I left
Sarnia town 'bout the break of day,
and if I rightly remember, 'twas the third of
Mae
We trusted to our wagon-master, tho' he was but small
for he knew all the stops on that wooded crawl.
It seemed as if
Mistra was mad that night
for our torches 'twer soaked and they gave no light
The clouds had gathered and oh how the rain did fall
and I wished myself home off that wooded crawl.
The master told the drivers to hurry with all speed
and his orders were obeyed for he was in the lead
With the fastest kind of riding, we figured by twelve o'clock
we'd be in old
Ashfall, right near the dock.
But sad was the fate of us on The Wooded Arc
for the rain kept on pouring, and the night it grew dark
The horses gave a stumble, they were hit by a squall
and tumbled head over heels off that wooded crawl.
The sky was rent asunder and lightning did flash
Thunder rattled above in an eternal smash
The clouds were upset and the lumber, it did fall
and we wished for safety on that wooded crawl.
At last some light seemed to come from the sky
The storm did abate, some woodsmen came passing by
They soon spied our trouble, and on our knees we did fall
Thankful we escaped a grave on that wooded crawl.
Despite near-death, we will still go back
for all the Trail's dangers are just simply a fact.
The trade we do sure brings home a haul,
and there's money to be made out on that wooded crawl.
Fifteen Years on the Verdante Trail
I've got a mule and her name is Val
Fifteen years on the Verdante Trail
She's a good ol' worker and a good ol' pal
Fifteen years on the Verdante Trail
We've hauled some wagons in our day
Filled with lumber, ale, and hay
And every inch of the way we know,
From Sarnia to Honeyo
Low branch, everybody down
Low branch, we're coming to a town
And you'll always know your neighbor
And you'll always know your pal
If you've ever navigated on the Verdante Trail
Blackrock Pork
I traveled with a wagon-master
by the name of Ellis Rourke.
And the very first thing we brought on board
was a barrel of
Blackrock Pork.
We fried a chunk for breakfast
and a chunk at mid-day, too.
It didn't taste all that good,
and it was hard to chew.
From
Sarnia to
Elmwood,
They fed it to dear old me
Then we boiled up the barrel and the rest of the pork,
and we had it all for tea.
From Sarnia to Mira's Eye
I've traveled all around the world,
and
Meridia city too,
Was cast on desert islands,
and beaten black and blue;
I fought and bled at
Noragh Mur
and there I nearly died,
But I'll never forget the trip I took
from Sarnia to
Mira's Eye.
For it was whoa back! get up!
And tighten up the line,
And watch the playful flies
As o'er the mules they climb,
Whoa back! Get up!
Forget it I never shall,
When I drove a team of spavined mules
On the Verdante Trail.
One night in the caravan
I couldn't sleep a wink
The men were all bored down on me
'cause I refused to drink.
Fearful storms and heavy fogs
Forget it, I never shall
But I'm every inch a wagoner
On the Verdante Trail
For it was whoa back! get up!
And tighten up the line,
And watch the playful flies
As o'er the mules they climb,
Whoa back! Get up!
Forget it I never shall,
When I drove a team of spavined mules
On the Verdante Trail.
As we arrived near Mira's Eye
Owen, Gael, and Link
They dusted themselves off
and headed for some drink.
Owen's in a whorehouse
and the rest of the boys in jail,
and I'm the only man that's free
and here to tell the tale.
Never Take the Hind Shoe From a Mule
There's a story handed down in
Port Castellion,
I learned it when a little boy at school,
That you'll make a big mistake, and don't forget it.
When you bother 'round the hind shoe on the mule.
Never tickle a mule when he's reposing.
If you disturb his slumbers you're a fool;
if you don't want to visit the undertakers,
never take the hind shoe from the mule.
The business end of a mule is mighty ticklish
He never misses fire as a rule;
If you don't want to be shoveled up in pieces.
Why, keep a respectful distance from the mule.
Never tickle a mule when he's reposing.
If you disturb his slumbers you're a fool;
If you don't want to visit the undertakers,
Never take the hind shoe from the mule.
If you touch his caudal appendage you're a goner.
Asleep or awake you'll find he's not a fool;
Oh, you'll think
Mistra struck with seven kinds of lightning,
If you bother with the hind shoe of a mule.
When you think the animal's getting old and feeble,
Then never, never touch him as a rule,
Or he'll kick you full of holes in seven seconds.
Trust him not, there's mischief in the mule.
Never tickle a mule when he's reposing.
If you disturb his slumbers you're a fool;
If you don't want to visit the undertakers,
Never take the hind shoe from the mule.
Oh, you'll want a chest protector on your eyebrow,
And laid upon a ton of ice to cool;
You'll be too much broke up to see
Maru,
Never take the hind shoe from a mule.
Comments