Skyclad es una de las bandas más desconocidas e infravaloradas de la escena folkmetalera, y a pesar de ser unos de los grandes impulsores del género no han pasado de ser un grupo de culto, de los de tocar en los pubs, pero con muy mala leche y algunas de las mejores letras que he visto en bandas de este tipo. Tienen una discografía descomunal, así que por poner sólo un par de muestras:
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He was just a lad of fifteen years
Who barely fit his breeches
A latter day Dick Whittington
Who dreamt of fame and riches
His teachers took him to one side
And promised him the earth
When all he really wanted
Was a taste of wine and mirth.
They said "Attend our university
Accept responsibility
Chant our mantra of morality
Until your throat is sore."
A antiestéticast of knowledge this contrite
Could not supress his appetite
"Please sir I want some more and more..."
Christianity was apparent as a fallacy
The Devil take your Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
The ones who have the answers
Are they who pipe the dancers
Earth Mother, the Sun and the Furious Host.
I'll give the whole nation
A sound education
Welcome to the school of hard knocks
Where the ones who know the answers
Are they that take their chances
For a small fish cast into an ocean
Full of unknown terrors
There's nothing much to smile at
In his comedy of errors.
Where streets aren't really paved with gold
And rags don't turn to riches
In this catalogue of disasters
The models were all bitches.
A Christ on every corner
For a coin he'll save your soul
But it's hard to be enlightened
While you're queueing for your dole.
When I think of all those shallow lies
They fed me in the past
There's one thing I must admit they've taught me...
That is how to laugh
At Christianity (it's nothing but a fallacy)
The Devil take your Father, Son and Holy Ghost
The ones who have the answers
Are they who pipe the dancers
Earth Mother, the Sun and the Furious Host.
This one's for the teachers
Who want to be preachers
Will God keep you warm
When you're cold?
You'd put those wracked by malnutrition
Straight onto your diet of superstition
Los ingleses tienen una frase de ánimo ante la adversidad: "lie back and think of England". A éstos les sirvió para hacer esta canción:
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(It's a load of old John Bull)
Cruel Britannia ruled the waves, Empire
oiled by toiling slaves. White flag stained
St.George Cross red, and blues sung for
the countless dead
God save brave Johnny Company,
stiff-upper-lipped he sipped his tea,
atop a mound of babes he'd killed,
to keep our nations coffers filled.
[Chorus]
Think back and lie of England.
Conceal the evil we have done.
Think back and lie of England.
Fake alibis for Albion
Meanwhile back on British loam,
Irish driven from their homes.
Persecuted Welsh and Scot,
and robbed them all of all they'd got.
Bound unto the plough and yoke,
they broke the backs of honest folk.
Built a gentlemen's Jerusalem.
I'm ashamed I share my race with them!
[Chorus]
Think back and lie of England.
Conceal the evil we have done.
Think back and lie of England.
Fake alibis for Albion
So will our future history tell,
how we've used this country well?
If you ask me, well I think not,
unless we watch these bigots rot.
In poverty the masses drown;
So raise a Dome in Greenwich town?
The Cenotaph is strewn with flowers,
yet arms-deals struck with fascist powers!
[Chorus]
Think back and lie of England.
Conceal the evil we have done.
Think back and lie of England.
Fake alibis for Albion
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