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A jolly jest was he Dances the tales of old Green his foot and pale his lips Sang a song so bold An arrow struck upon thee Fell down the song for to his knees he came to be and then quiet come done The strings fell no pluck The green turned to crisp The forest was quiet and so he be Scarlet blood run from the lips The wolves turned to flee No banner stand proud For it was seen and came to be Alan Dale shot down
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 4:21 PM UTC
Alan Dale's Death
A jolly jest was he Dances the tales of old Green his foot and pale his lips Sang a song so bold An arrow struck upon thee Fell down the song for to his knees he came to be and then quiet come done The strings fell no pluck The green turned to crisp The forest was quiet and so he be Scarlet blood run from the lips The wolves turned to flee No banner stand proud For it was seen and came to be Alan Dale shot down
Written in Medieval style ballad.
alandale
Written by
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 4:21 PM UTC
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