Gentlemen, I should tell you about my mother's four lovers,
Four, gentlemen, each claiming to be better than the others,
The first one, the father of us all, forced on her young self,
By her father, a man who had stolen and raised her himself,
Until as one possessed she fought to free herself of his hold,
And he gave her to a knight with an armor sparkling and cold.
He could not live long, gentlemen, was felled by a malady,
A malady, twas all they told us children, felled him shortly,
And Alas! A suitor, unbeknown to us before, stately and tall,
Before the body was cooled, had her, us younglings and all,
A father he'd be, they said, and until another came, he was,
But goodnesses aside, for his faults we sent him to the cross.
Gentle, most gentle, the new suitor was, too gentle she said,
But it was glorious! O! It was glorious, the day they wedded!
A great craftsman he was, good with kids and the coin too,
Cleared new footpaths, gave her, till then, a love most true,
But Alas! Her love for fresh blood! Her love for new blood!
She would drive away the gentliest man she had ever had.
And all for a young man and a son of the knight's lineage,
A woman doth need a man to green her valleys at this age,
And so would come a man, sparkling with pearls and rubies,
With convoys echoing songs of hope, promises and praises.
And so, gentlemen, so did we younglings get a new father,
But in good time, all in good time, she shall bring another.