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This ballad I have to tell starts
With what I witnessed in Tedworth Castle
I was entrusted with it by one is no longer with us
They burnt him at the stake as a sorcerer
Beyond the sea is the great England
No crueller place in the world
There they consider musicians to be rebels
Who was that last night on the accordion?
I was baptised William Drury
Brought into the world and up in Ireland
I learnt the accordion as a wain
I could make a lame person dance
Lord Hamilton, head of white hair
Insomnia had him most agitated
He had Drury imprisoned, the accordion confiscated
They left the musician with no music
I couldn't play, my fingers shrivelled
And soon the lice were my cell-souls
No place that for the Irish
And the bell struck ten in the tower
And when ten struck the accordion played
More sweetly even than Drury playing on the eve
We spent the night singing and clapping
Those English didn't appreciate the dance
In Tedworth everyone exclaimed, "Oh, dearie me!"
Lord Hamilton and his old Lady, too
They decided the accordion was to blame
So they burnt my squeezebox in the town square
How sad is the night without music!
They still cannot sleep at night
The whisper is they are cursed
Over there they believed those things, too
The destruction of the small bellows has its
punishment
I think you have all gone deaf
Who is responsible for this terrible thing?
I don't believe anything, it's the music that
created me
You wanted peace so you burnt my melodeon
Justice at the stake is easy in Tedworth
Music is the balm of sore minds
You'll sleep but never dream
Thanks to Lord Hamilton's kind heart
The musician too was soon dancing in the fire
The whisper that he was a sorcerer wasn't far
fetched
He belched up a toad
What a quiet town is Tedworth!
The bell in the tower is always silent
It's the music that marks off life from death
Young Drury who scared the English witless
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