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SERIOUS STEEL

ã Leslie Fish
Reprinted by permission of Leslie Fish and Random Factors

Well the bombs went up and the Crunch came down in the middle of the Pennsic War
It left us stranded in Cooper’s Field, ten thousand souls or more
We had nothing with us but what we’d brought: our cars and camping gear,
And our arms and armor, tools and skills we’d worked on all that year.

Chorus:  So, dress your ranks!  Lift your pikes!  Tight as the teeth of a comb!
                Rattling, clanking, down the road, the war is going home!

So a truce was called and a council held and we argued all that night.
Then we all set off in a caravan by the early morning light
We had tipped our arrows and pikes with steel, and were armored, every one.
Our swords and bows hung ready to hand, for the time of rattan was done.

Chorus

The very first town that we came to, we stopped for fuel and food.
The gasman said he had none to sell; the cops were worse than rude.
They drew their guns.  We drew our bows.  They fired.  We won the day.
For their backup radios all were dead and shortly so were they.

Chorus  

The very next town that we came to they had no fuel at all.
The garage man said he could change our cars to run on alcohol.
But five thousand cars would take as long as to grow a crop of grain.
So, we made a deal and moved on out in a horse-drawn wagon train.

Chorus

The very third town that we came to, the rulers had gone mad.
The cops tried to enslave us all and steal what all we had.
Our armor proved half-bullet proof, our weapons worked as well.
The townsfolk afterwards thanked us all for freeing them from Hell.

Chorus

So, town-by-town, we worked our way just to take our people home.
The legends that we left behind, it seemed would rival Rome.
For now the folk come seeking us, to take their troubles on.
To be their teachers and champions in a world where law is gone.

Chorus

How can we not take up the steel, for to serve our people’s need?
How can we leave our land to fall to any bandit’s greed?
We have the skills to save our folk from whatever evil thrives,
Admit the truth: this is the chance we’ve hoped for all our lives!

So, dress your ranks!  Lift your pikes!  Tight as the teeth of a comb!
Rattling, clanking, down the road, dressed in leather and steel and woad,
All too aware of history’s load, the war is going home.
The war is coming home!

 

This song is found on the album, Serious Steel, by Leslie Fish and Joe Bethancourt.  Available from