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by The Royalm of Grand Britanny. . 157 reads.

Poems and songs from Grand Britanny

This dispatch compiles poems and songs from Grand Britanny and its universe. It might help to have a Britannic English dictionary on hand. Some transcriptions may have accents to aid readability; an acute accent indicates stressed syllables whilst a grave accent indicates unstressed but pronounced syllables. See the "Other notes" section in the Dictionary for more.

OOC note: All words and music are written by me :)

Britannia
Lord Frederick of the Decken, 1745

The national anthem of Grand Britanny. It was only officially adopted in 1906 to promote patriotic sentiment and boost morale in the First Mondial War. Often, for the sake of brevity, only the second verse and chorus is sung; however, there is an old convention that the first verse should be sung in times of war.

OOC note: I have made a Linkmusic video and Linksheet music of this song.


The centuries, Britannia,
Have they empov'rished thee?
Thine isles once free and glorious
Have faln to tyranny.
But plour not much, Britannia,
For from thy plains and mountains
Arise in arms thy foyal sons
Beneath the drap of Alban.

𝄆 And all across Britannia
Chant Britans this refrain:
‹The Roy shall vince all Tyrants
And Liberty shall reign.› 𝄇

Our ancestors, Britannia,
Have freen thee from thy chains;
From bloodied, ashened battalfields
Thou art risen again.
And now we toil, Britannia,
With fervent dedication
To render thee the Grandest—
The envy of the nations.

𝄆 And all across Britannia
Chant Britans this refrain:
‹May God defend Britannia;
And Liberty retain.› 𝄇

Packet
Dukes of Brixton, 2011

Often considered the magnum opus of Dukes of Brixton, the song revolves around themes of purposelessness, senselessness, and hopelessness under the capitalist pre-Clementine society.

No lands await discovery
No stars remain a mystery
And the thoughts I think have thought a thousand times
Travails repeat eternally
Replasable to the company
Would it change a thing if I's never alive?

I was promised by the world the brightest future
And a life not dumb or disfacile or dull
But now I can't find even lightest pleasures
And my packet of cigarets remains full

The weeks and months just fly away
Forgot if I woke up today
And my anniversary comes as a surprise
I see no more than shades of grey
My world looks like a Monterrey1
And I dute whether I still retain my eyes

I was promised by the world the brightest future
And a life not dumb or disfacile or dull
But now I can't find even lightest pleasures
And my packet of cigarets remains full

The chapel gates still let me in
Despite a hundred thousand sins
But would it be any worse to live Below?
I summon all that's left within
I want and need to trust in Him
But if God exists he parted long ago

I was promised by the world the brightest future
And a life not dumb or disfacile or dull
But now I can't find even lightest pleasures
And my packet of cigarets remains full

1 Luís de Monterrey Rodríguez was a 20th-century Spanish artist who distinctively only painted in greyscale.

Ode to Jordan
Jack Enfield, 1987

A song about a soldier's experiences in the Transjordan War, part of the larger War of Three Continents (1979–1995).

I've dreamed of starlit evenings
Where stars seem to scatter the land
I've dreamed of my dear English pastures
That morph to Arabian sands

And I've seen in my dreams many spirits
And the spirits of dreams have seen me
Oh, God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee
And God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee

We had sixteen boys in the unit
And I knew all their grandparents' names
They hailed from the Thames to the Humber
And they fell just as fast as they came

I still sometimes see their young faces
And their laughs that can no longer be
Oh, God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee
And God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee

I've murdered a dozen of humans
And I've left many more in distress
There were Jews, there were Muslims and Christians
So I hope there's no life after death

I still see the dozen of spirits
And the dozen of spirits see me
Oh, God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee
And God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee

The cities were older than history
Every stone had a story to tell
But our roaring munitions tore buildings
To the first in forever they fell

In the birthplace of civilisation
It was death that was all I could see
Oh, God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee
And God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee

I walked on the banks of the Jordan
Like Christ did an era ago
But her waters are no longer holy
And red is the colour she flows

I saw there a million of spirits
And the million of spirits saw me
Oh, God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee
And God willing thou may leave the Jordan
But the Jordan will never leave thee

R-O-S-S-É-L-I-E
Grand Millard, 2017

A Rosselian rap song mentioning many places in the country.

R-O-S-S-É-L-I-E

Je m'êt réveillé
À côté d'une Mouscoquée
Comment font le Sud-Est les
Filles chaudes ç'comme en Tohal, wé

R-O-S-S
Meilleur de l'univers(e)
É-L-I-E
Ils veu' mais ils ne peu'

Elle monte dans mon 16-Classe
Droit sorti d'Saint Nicolas(se)
Roulant le long d'la Longue Plage
300 kilomètres par H

R-O-S-S
Meilleur de l'univers(e)
É-L-I-E
Ils veu' mais ils ne peu'

J'êt noié comme Nouvelle-Lille
Pêt je vais à Moulinville
Pour payer les Capis viles
Pour ils n'me ravissent aussille

R-O-S-S
Meilleur de l'univers(e)
É-L-I-E
Ils veu' mais ils ne peu'

J'êt telle froid comme Migisie
Inondé comme Saint-Denis
Rimant comme je viens de Rîmes
Et puissant comme...

R-O-S-S
Meilleur de l'univers(e)
É-L-I-E
Ils veu' mais ils ne peu'
R-O-S-S
Meilleur de l'univers(e)
É-L-I-E
Ils veu' mais ils ne peu'

Seven Tales from Postmodern Christianity
Phoebe Ellis, 2005

Work in progress...

I: The

II: The Porterman

III: The Actioneer

IV: The Nepot

V: The Squadman

VI: The Scroller

VII: The Patriot

On the Finsbury Lign
George Parker-Graham, 1980

Originally titled "A Tale of Two Veterans", the song describes an interaction between a veteran of the Twoth Mondial War (1927–1936) and a veteran of the War of Three Continents (1979–1995). Veterans of the former were hailed as heroes and widely celebrated, whilst the latter were often forgotten and neglected.

OOC note: This song was very heavily inspired by LinkОбычный Автобус by Мой Двор.


On the Finsbury Lign, on a rainy day
Things were going fine, all was dull and grey
Everyone was packed in a cramped way
But I sat 'side an empty seat

And a garson stepped onto the train
He was poorly dressed for the pouring rain
He looked in his twenties, but he walked with pain
And his hair had all but greyed

He took the last seat at my side
But someone else had just arrived
He was old and frail but he walked with pride
But the garson did not move

‹Who d'thou think thou are, c​unt, can't thou stand?
I served in the War, I fought for this land
I got awful scars on me legs and hands
Defending thy liberty.›

So the garson stood, and the two locked eyes
And the vet'ran sawth' very same demises
The rains of fire and the sleepless nights
‹Me too, I fought for thee too.›

And the garson limped through the closing doors
And I never saw him anymore
And the vet'ran sank and held his cour
And a tear rolled down his cheek

On the Finsbury Lign, on a rainy day
Things were going fine, all was dull and grey
Everyone was packed in a cramped way
But I sat 'side an empty seat

Song of Dover
Unknown composer, c. 1580

A Britannic patriotic song speaking of the events of 26 October 1577, when a large French naval invasion was thwarted due to sudden storms that wrecked the French fleet. This was part of the larger Fourty Years' War (1538–1580), in which Grand Britanny revolted from the French crown.

The Roy went forth to Dover town
And gazed across the sea.
He saw the tyrant's ships abound
In serving heresy.
The Roy spoke to his soldars:
‹Fear not! Be not concerned.
For God is with the foyers
And thus the winds shall turn.›

God save the Roy! Halleluia! Halleluia!
May tyrants be struck down by His hand.
God save us all! Halleluia! Halleluia!
Nevermore shall a foe descend this land.

Mother
Dukes of Brixton, 2013

Work in progress...

These decennies, o mama,
Aren't they been kind to thee?
Song for the French Bastards
Villers O'Kelley, 1906

A Britannic anti-French propagandic song from the First Mondial War.

The ancient foe advances towards the Germanic plain
For nothing but a greed of magnifying his domain
And though the devil may have won against the fair Almain
Grand Britain shall not yield!

May God have mercy on the souls of all ye dirty French
For Britannics pardon not and all we seek is sweet revenge
We shall fight yew on the water, in the sky, and in the trench
And ye bastards shall mourir!

The Emperor republican perorates to the mass
That assembles by his palace in a slum of mice and rats
He parls of fabrications of a vict'ry in Alsace
But his peuple just wants bread.

May God have mercy on the souls of all ye dirty French
For Britannics pardon not and all we seek is sweet revenge
We shall fight yew on the water, in the sky, and in the trench
And ye bastards shall mourir!

The Ruthish and the Almish fight the continental beast
The Netherish may've lost their home but fight on in the East
The Persics bravely fought and much delayèd their defeat
And the British aid them all.

May God have mercy on the souls of all ye dirty French
For Britannics pardon not and all we seek is sweet revenge
We shall fight yew on the water, in the sky, and in the trench
And ye bastards shall mourir!

There Was a Long Lign in Heaven
Pax, 1982

A song from the War of Three Continents (1979–1995). It was initially envisioned in 1980 during the Palestine War and was released in the album Frontlign.

There was a long lign in Heaven
Saint Pete hadn't slept for a year
The lign numbered four
And a few thousand more
Who all coun't believe they were here

A garson advanced to the entrance
And the Saint asked him only two words:
‹A soldar?› he said
And he nodded his head
And then through the gates he transferred

The garson peered down on the desert
But all he could see was the sand
No bullets or shells
And no nations as well
And ten cities could fit in his hand

Yet down on the ground they were fighting
And dead were a million of youths
But the mond stays the same
Whether pleasure or pain
And humanity's chosen the twoth

He lived for a thousand etern'ties
But wrinkled did not grow his skin
He knew not of life
Beyond struggle and strife
Lack having committed a sin

He still sometimes peers on the desert
Observing the folly below
And for evermore
He watched men go to war
For reasons that nobody knows

The Dreamer
Phoebe Ellis, 2005

A poem about escapism (in this case, to dreams) in a depressing and hopeless capitalist society.

I had a nightmare yesterday
I never saw any monsters
Or demons or devils
But I knew they were there
In the shadows

It started in a small dark chamber
I could barely find my way out
And when I did
It was onto the next
Filled with standing corpses
And the next sitting

And I became a corpse myself
In an illuminated cemetery
Though by some sorcery they animated my hands
My head thought not

For some hours I mourished
But when I revived it was barely different
Back into the chamber
Of standing corpses
Back into the chamber
Of darkness and smallness

I saw on a telemission a devil
His visage terribly creased
And he spoke in a tongue I knew not
But I could understand
That my suffering was eternal
And that this nightmare would plague me once more

Here I woke up
And was relieved for a while
For I remember that I live in Paradise
With infinite food and infinite things and infinite joy
But not infinite time

Now I am dreaming another nightmare
And the doctors say I'm crazy
For sleeping twelve hours a day
And pretending that my dreams and my realities are reversed
But they are the ones who are crazy
That condemn me to torment over bliss

A Mutiny on the Thames
Unknown composer, c. 1748

A popular children's folk song, referencing the Mutiny on the Georgia of 1748 which occured on the river Thames. There are various versions of the song that have different professions in different orders; this is one common traditional variation.

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the townsfolk out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the baker out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the tailor out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the blacksmith out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the fisher out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the bishop out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the shiner out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the butcher out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the mason out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

A mutiny on the Thames!
A mutiny on the Thames!
Call the Baron out to see
A mutiny on the Thames!

The Royalm of Grand Britanny

Edited:

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