Knights Collapse

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Scimitar

Scimitar is a melodic death metal band hailing from Canada. They are known for their heavy and epic sound, combining elements of death metal with melodic guitar riffs and dynamic song structures. Scimitar's music often features intricate guitar solos, aggressive vocals, and powerful drumming, creating an intense and engaging listening experience. While their exact formation and discography may not be widely documented, Scimitar has been active in the metal scene and has gained a dedicated following with their unique blend of brutality and melody. more »

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Thus lands our fleet on Normandy's shore
Just another day in a Hundred Year War
No idea we are headed for
The Battle of Agincourt
Marched days to Calaise, nothing to eat
'Cept berries, nuts and spoiling meat
A diarrhoea diet to make any turn tail
Ever puked your pants in mail?
Our army is mangy, starving and stale
While the French appear happy and hale
Reclining in their lines, with advantage of time
But Henry has a plan in mind
He sounds the advance, let's start this dance
We Englishmen take a chance
And approach their ranks, so close
They could smell our stank
Our archers loose volleys from our banks
Their cavalry vanguards panic and charge 
In disregard of the sitch at large
For the field in the rain bogged thickly, quickly
Knight's charge slow, their horses stick-swiftly
And squeal, in the torrent of bow-shafts
Bold steeds turning into frothing maniacs
Fancy this, Henrys plan worked fine
As crazed armoured beasts smash their own second line

Now sarge, sound the charge for our men-at-arms
We throw down our bows and heft pole-arms
Axes, mauls, dirks, daggers, swords
Crude wooden stakes hold noble knights gored
Now all that's left of the van
Heaps of corpses taller than a man
Understand, we keep what we don't kill
Capture and ransom those nobles at will
Lo our baggage is beset by Frenchmen
A force of slovenly serfs, three knights ahead of them
Camp followers, run now or die
For pillaging peasantry no loyalties lie
Henry was rowdy, but now he's mad
He orders the killing of the captives we had
So burn down the huts they're locked in
Hew heads, cut throats this day of St. Crispin

Pay no mind to the vanguard
Knock your bodkins in time
Our longbows snap and the knights collapse
The mud and their blood, and iron bind
We band of bro's turned butcher in the mud
'Til the foe had their fill of their comrades blood
Turned about-face and withdrew
Amidst the jeers of we happy few
Glory to Bodkin and Country, the French were through
Bodies on the field like dew
We`d broke noble knights with nought but we`d brought
A peasants skull cap and padded leather frock, 
One hatchet, one dirk, two measly dried sparrows
A longbow and full quiver of arrows
Ya a longbow with a hell-of-a-lotta arrows
One bow and a shit-ton of arrows 
One bow and a f*ck-load of arrows
 
Pay no mind to the vanguard
Knock your bodkins in time
Our longbows snap and the knights collapse
The mud and their blood, and iron bind

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