The Devil's in the Sword

[Verse 1] In the year of our Lord, thirteen fifty and six, The banners flew high and the weather played tricks. Sir Thomas of Hookton, with longbow in hand, Marched south with his rogues through a b***d-soaked land. [Chorus] ⚔️ The devil’s in the sword, they say, And the saints have fled the field. But Hookton fights for gold and grace, With no cross left to wield. Raise your cups to the Gascon wind, And the lies that w*r affords— For the truth is lost in the clash of steel, And the devil’s in the sword. [Verse 2] A monk with a map and a tale of might, Of la Malice, the blade of holy right. But relics and relic-men both deceive, And faith is a coin that the cunning thieve. [Bridge] Oh, the English came with arrows black, And the French with pride and chain. But the field at Poi-tiers drank them both, And spat out only pain. [Verse 3] There’s a lady who rides with a dagger’s grace, And a priest who sins with a smiling face. There’s a king in chains and a knight unblessed, And a bastard’s heart in a sinner’s chest. [Chorus] The devil’s in the sword, they say, And the saints have fled the field. But Hookton fights for gold and grace, With no cross left to wield. Raise your cups to the Gascon wind, And the lies that w*r affords— For the truth is lost in the clash of steel, And the devil’s in the sword. [Outro] So if you seek glory, or relics divine, Remember the d**d and the b***d in the wine. For the sword may be holy, or cursed, or bored— But the devil, my friend, is always in the sword.