The Fifth Of November
by - Baz Cann
Remember, remember, the fifth of November,
Guy Fawkes, and his gunpowder plot,
Quite happy was he, to engage in the tender,
To rid us of a government plot !
Gunpowder he obtained from those absurdly named,
The fuses he acquired from elsewhere,
With the help of some friends who were equally blamed,
For in this, they all had a share !
They set off for the South, in a dilligent mood,
Full of purpose and most intent,
"Tis a piggin' long way for t'horse in a day!"
So they sought some rooms that they could rent.
The way, it were hard, and the horse was just meat,
Their cart, it weren't one o' the best,
To the end of their street was the target to beat,
But beyond that, they just had to rest.
Now, so happen there were folks in sympathy with,
The ideals these people stood for,
You could tell at a glance, those that weren't taking pith,
By the cauliflowers nailed t' the door!
And so then, by and by, the miles they rolled by,
Until they came close to our town,
But here's where things got bad, and they nearly got had,
By some beggar who let the side down.
A mere coincidence, someone had the good sense,
To provide an escape route for t' lad,
As yon Ostler delayed by means of recompense,
Young Guy Fawkes were exceedingly glad.
England isn't known for it's clement weather,
In fact, it's fairly darned wet,
The result of this being, it isn't that clever,
For dampness into powder to get!
And so he did fail, and started to wail,
As the red-coats gathered all about,
But would we have been up to our necks in quail?
I hasten to say here, I doubt!
Time continued on, and Guy Fawkes he was gone,
Into the annals of history,
But if he had succeeded, would my words be upon,
A parchment, or maybe a tree?