Sir Hubert Vayne

To preach the holy word of God I was chosen,
To show the light, the wrong from right,
Then steal away in the dark of the night,
Pursued by Sir Hubert's murderous soldiers.

And many was the night I fled from the soldiers
To the secret room by the mantel shelf,
To hide away and protect myself,
Known only by my dearest sister Catherine.

And when she was sure the soldiers had departed
She turned the handle by the fireside,
Which in turn did cause the wall to slide
And together we did laugh and mock the soldiers.

Well here's a toast to you my true and faithful sister.
If not for you I would surely be
A hangin' on the gallows tree,
And you at the mercy of his jealous passion.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Your life for her life if I must.
By the hand of Sir Hubert Vayne,
These four walls my mortal grave.

The preacher he has gone to read his Holy Bible,
When to his surprise the soldiers came
And chased the preacher back again,
To his sister who was waiting by the fireside.

And it was into my place of hiding I did go,
When into the room the soldiers came,
But their evil ways were all in vain,
For safely was I hidden by the fireside.

And there through the hole in the wall I watched them searching.
Sir Hubert now his anger roused
Dismissed the soldiers from the house,
And turned towards my frightened sister Catherine.

He caressed her and made to steal away her flower
'A preacher's servant surely is no life
For a pretty young maid that could be my wife,
That could marry me and share the fruits of a good life.'

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Your life for her life if I must.
By the hand of Sir Hubert Vayne,
These four walls my mortal grave.

'Oh take away your arms from me I'll show no passion
You are a murderer', the young girl cried,
'And to marry you I would rather die
And the devil take you and your murderous soldiers'.

Sir Hubert raised his sword and took to slay the maiden
Her crime – she did decline his love,
So there she lay in her virgin blood
Oh the bastard slew my dearest sister Catherine.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Your life for her life if I must.
By the hand of Sir Hubert Vayne,
These four walls my mortal grave.

And there from my place of hiding I did cry,
'Open up the wall as you are a man,
And your execution I would command
And avenge the murder of my sister Catherine'.

'And so at last your place of hiding I have found
And there you'll stay till your dying day,
Till your flesh and bones do rot away
In your tomb safely hidden by the fireside.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
Your life for her life if I must.
By the hand of Sir Hubert Vayne,
These four walls my mortal grave.