photos: Stephen Alsford
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When summer crossed the portals Of a damp and dreary May, A mist of early morning All across the lowlands lay. I garbed myself in woollen fleece And set out on my way As vagabond, to roam the hills In search of something strange. The sun rose high, my feet grew tired, I lay down by a stream; Lulled by the sounds of sleepy waters I dreamt a marv'lous dream: My soul was raised above the earth And, facing t'ward the East, There stretched before me Heaven, Hell, and turmoil in-between. CHORUS: When Adam delved and Eve she span Who was then the gentleman? No lords we'll endure, nor masters we'll keep, But spin them a noose and dig their graves deep in the ground ... Dance, on their graves, round their graves; Dance in widening circles of hate, 'Til all are entranced. Let our fates be: "no-one was saved". Now, Heaven was still and peaceful, No movement saw I where The golden fields of Paradise Breathed desolate despair. I wondered why, in all this time, No spirit had deserved A place within God's Kingdom – Oh for whom was it preserved? The next realm was abundant In what the first had lacked: the ghostly damned in countless numbers From side to side were packed. And each one strove to pull himself Up on his neighbour's back To 'scape the torment of the fiery Waves that round them lapped. CHORUS The world between was overcast With clouds from Heaven's base; No heat from Hell's inferno rose up To warm that dismal place. And in its midst there stood a tower So dreadful to behold, For it was built of bleached-white bones And skulls ten thousand-fold. The plain about the tower was filled With bustling multitudes Of farmers, merchants, priests, and beggars, Disordered and confused. Some tried to climb the ivory walls But slipped back to the ground, Some cursed the chains that made them slaves, Some prayed to be unbound. CHORUS Upon the parapets there stood A king in crimson gown; I heard him speak with words of scorn Cast down upon the crowd: "You bondsmen are and shall remain While I be master here; Your mortal toil shall raise this spire And I to Heaven's sphere." In waking I've a firm resolve To pull that pillar down. I've sent a summons through the land For friends to rally round – To Peter Ploughman, Walter Tyler, Jack Straw, and John Ball. We'll bind our hearts with sacred oaths: One act shall serve for all. CHORUS Come all brave folk to London – John Ball has rung your bell – To storm that ivory steeple And toll our lords' death-knell. Since Adam's heirs have been denied The path to Paradise, As equals in perdition then Our birthright shall be strife. |
| (2010) |
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photos: Stephen Alsford |
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| Created: November 17, 2014. Last modified: March 25, 2015 | © Stephen Alsford |