Deja Llew

A fierce Scottish warrior, as Llew he was known
A true Ansteorran who served well the Crown
He fought like a wildman in melees and War
His sword rang like bells 'gainst the arms of the foe
But then he turned rogue, let him lie while he can
He became a sheep-stealer, a scurrilous man
The Baron cried "Guilty!", demanding his head
The traitor drank poison and now he lies dead

But what's this I see, in the mists of the morn?
A familiar figure, his face newly shorn
He says he's a Frenchman, please call him "Louee"
But the whole situation seems shady to me
Some say that a Scotsman is tricky to kill
You may think that he's dead, but he's hanging 'round still
He'll put on new garb, and crop short his hair
You think that he's gone when in fact he's still there.

So what do we do with this Frenchman who's not?
When everyone knows that he's really the Scot
He's changed all his habits, he's sung a new tune
But "Louie the Badger" just sounds like a goon
We'll all let him think that he's hidden so well
And keep safe his secret – no, we'll never tell
But when he believes that I think he's not there
I'll sing Barnicle Bill; he'll fall out of his chair