Song of the Men's Side - words by Rudyard Kipling, arrangement byLeslie Fish

Dreadful was the beast, when it hunted us we ran,
Ran very fast though we knew,
That it was not right that the beast should master man,
But what could we flint-workers do?

The beast would only grin at our spears 'round its ears,
Grin at the hammers that we made,
But now we will hunt him for the life with the knife,
And this is the buyer of the blade.

Oh, there's room for his shadow on the grass, let it pass,
Two left and right stand clear,
This is the buyer of the blade, be afraid,
This is the great god Tyr.

Tyr thought hard 'til he hammered out a plan,
For he knew that it was not right,
And it is not right that the beast should master man,
So he went to the children of the night,
To beg a magic knife of their make, for our sake,
When he begged for the knife they said,
The price of the knife you would buy is an eye,
And that was the price he paid.

Tell it to the barrows of the dead, blood ahead,
Shout it so the one inside can hear,
This is the buyer of the blade, be afraid,
This is the great god Tyr.

Our children and womenfolk may walk on the chalk,
As far as we can see them and beyond,
We need not fear for our sheep as we keep,
Tally at the shearing pond,
We can eat with both our elbows on our knees if we please,
We can sleep after meals in the sun,
For the shepherd of the twilight is dismayed at the blade,
Feet in the night have run,

Oh, there's room for his shadow on the grass, let it pass,
Two left and right stand clear,
This is the buyer of the blade, be afraid,
This is the great god Tyr.