Responsible of the light brigade I’m not,
However, heavens it comes close,
The folks I’m writing with put me on the spot,
When does your horse come in they say?
You’ve been riding it some time,
What’s the cause for your delay?
Forward then I ride my steed,
Firing blunderbuss and pen,
Yelling hi ho silver read,
This I send you bam, bam, bam,
A mix of heavy lead and lighter shot,
Take it if you can!
Alas, it’s nigh the time of reckon,
I was outnumbered by the Bolsheviks,
Retreat I thought, they'll skewer my beacon,
I stumble back I hear these snorts,
Horses all of Christian feudal lords,
Of you, they say, we’ll make some sport,
Now forward, fight the Saracens,
In my back, was it lance or pen, I could not say,
I’m in the middle so it seems,
I figured one in front and one in back,
Sideways have to go,
With speed and levity, I made fast track,
I have consternated my foes, my friends and foes alike,
Both now chase me down with speed,
I can't now find a place to hide,
Nevertheless, as luck would have it soon, it wasn’t long,
A storm approached now from afar,
God’s on my side; I thought, for them, he's far too strong,
Be it Christian Saracen or Mongol horde,
It does not matter now,
Such powers have, in lance or pen, of them, I’ll soon make sport.
Still some times I stumble, and I slip,
God’s hand, it picks me up,
I’m in an Angels grip,
No allegiance does she swear, or ransom pay,
I know that on my side, she writes,
I write what she would say.
Fee
Georg