I'm sure by now you've heard the tale of a wayward bard, this Byram Tyndal
Who did by ardorous caterwaul become the new Queen's Bard.
And then perhaps you've heard my song, and if you have then sing along
As I recall in mournful song the tale of Byram the Mooche.
Well I went up to Storvik there, and left my home, my sweet Caer Mear
And found my brand new surname there, the name of Byram the Mooche.
Well as I've said up in Storvik there, they have this Novice Tourney where
I went to authorize on spear as Byram the Musical Mooche.
Well the fighters grew hot and the tourney grew long and Byram Tyndal was yet done wrong,
for the spear authorizations were undone for poor Byram the Musical Mooche.
So in a sad and huffy mood i went to find myself some food,
And off to the feast hall I did brood as poor little Byram the Mooche.
Well at this great hall I did seek, this great hall named of Chesapeake,
A table to sit and there to eat as lovable Byram the Mooche.
And so I spied Tangywstel there, that Tawny of the bonnie hair,
Of crab legs she has a beuteous pair, to temp the greatest Mooche.
And so I lusted in my heart, to have not all, but a small part,
And thus my great downfall did start, the fall of poor Byram the Mooche.
So I reached out and grabbed me one, and then said, "Hi!" and began to run,
And off to find myself some fun, went lovable Byram the Mooche.
Well Lord Robear and Ranulf did call to the high table, one and all
To hear the crimes that founded the fall, the fall of poor Byram the Mooche.
Well as all know, Robear is mean, and he went and told Anton the King,
But worst of all he told the Queen, the Queen of poor Byram the Mooche.
And now i'm in hiding you do see from Queen Luned - She's looking for me
To send me off across the sea, poor Byram the Muscial Mooche.
And then I went to Pennsic War, and Lord Robear he evened the score,
For I was his slave with body sore, his slave, poor Byram the Mooche.
So now i'm off to Carolingia where, if it's true from what I hear,
They have pretty good crab legs there all for Byram the Musical Mooche.
So lock up your gear, and hide your beer, for i'll be back again next year.
You'll be a small step in the ever-growing career of Byram the Musical Mooche.
So here ends my tale of bitter strife. Be you lowly squire or lady wife,
Screw up in the SCA and you'll be branded for life, just like Byram the Musical Mooche.
The good that men do dies with them, the bad lingers on after death, they say. The story is true and happened way back in 1991. I promised to write a song as penance, and did. Children seem to like it, and I still get requests for it, so I guess it will never die.