The Fiddlers Bane
There is a sound that clangs forlorn
the Fiddlers plight forever born
that dreadful night
A monument to warn the best
of Fiddlers plight forever rest
fog smote from sight
Ship run aground in dark and deep
the Fiddlers plight and there must keep
to warn, his right
In fog did sound with bow on strings
a Fiddlers plight to sing of things
hidden from sight
His death be stead for those who fear
the Fiddlers plight his song to hear
each fog filled night