The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone In the ranks of death you'll find him,...
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Minstrel: [singing] Bravely bold Sir Robin, rode forth from Camelot. He was not afraid to die, oh brave Sir Robin. He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways, brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Robin. He was not in the least bit scared to being mashed into a pulp, or to have his eyes gouged out, and his elbows broken. To have his knee caps split, and his body burned away, and his limbs all hacked and mangled, brave Sir Robin. His head smashed in and heart cut out, and his liver removed, and his bowels unplugged, and his nostrils ripped and his bottom burned off and his penis...
Sir Robin: THAT'S, that's quite enough, Minstrel.
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I extract what I consider the best material from different sources. But often the material I perform comes from a very strange location in history, which are minstrel shows.
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