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lyrics

Old Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen
The snow lay round about
Deep and crisp and even
How brightly shone the moon!
Though the frost was cruel
A poor man came in sight,
Gath'ring winter fuel

“Come page and stand by me:
And if you know, please tell me?
This peasant, who is he?
And do you know his dwelling?”
“He lives a good league hence
Underneath the mountain
Against the forest fence
Up by Saint Agnes' fountain”

“Sire we have meat and wine,
And we have pine logs burning
We should not let him die,
The weather it is turning”
The rich man looked away,
“Whilst I feel pity for him,
He must make his own way,
Tis not for us to save him”

While the night was dark
And while the wind blew stronger
The page knew in his blood
That he could wait no longer
He gathered all he could
Then he stepped out alone
The raging winter storm
Froze him to his bones

But though the snow lay deep
In every step he’d taken
Warmth was in his sole, for
Love had not forsaken
Therefore good folk come all,
Wealth or rank abandon
All you who bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing

credits

from The Plum Puddings (Of Desolation), released December 13, 2015

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The Brooms of Destruction UK

Passionately silly musicians, writing & playing an eclectic bunch of songs about world issues and cookies. Met while reading at Reading Uni.

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