Hildegard von Blingin' - Pumped Up Kicks

Robert hath a swift hand
He doth gaze upon the fyrd, and he maketh a plan
And he hath a jaunty cap
Perched upon his head, he is a longbowman
He did find an old bow of yew
And a quiver of arrows in his father’s chest
Wherefore I cannot say
But he cometh for thee, yea he cometh for thee

All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go
Outrun my bow
All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go, faster than mine arrow

Father worketh all day
And he cometh home late, yea he cometh home late
Mayhaps he bringeth me a gift
Stew is in the pot though it doth taste of grit
I have waited e're long
Now mine eye is quick and mine arm is strong
I reason with my crooked cap
And say "Thou art an artless, greasy tallow-catch," Yea

All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go
Outrun my bow
All ye bully-rooks with your buskin boots
Best ye go, best ye go
Faster than mine arrow