| THE EAGLE FILK |
| Works well with Gordon Lightfoot's "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" In the first light of day, through the fog and the haze the mighty Eagle comes flying With a gleam in his eye and a shrill battle-cry for those in wait for him lying His cry rings in their heads and it fills them with dread the sound melts the hearts of the hearers and their women and children all shiver with fear when they hear his great wings beating nearer He will bring them much woe, this fierce flying foe with whom their men choose to do battle for 'ere he is done, fathers, husbands and sons will lie slaughtered like so much cattle His sharp talons will shred and the fields will run red with the blood of the dead and the dying and none shall be left but the newly bereft widows over their dead menfolk crying With a shout they rush out waving weapons about cursing the winds that he rides on Then the Eagle dives in to the maddening din and they all feel the sting of his talons Through the slashing of swords he tears into the hordes and repays them their violence with violence Ripping flesh from their bones 'til they fall dead as stones and the fields become eerily silent As the setting sun fades on a long bloody day the Eagle emerges unbeaten in his triumph he sings as his powerful wings lift him high over those he's defeated The sun in his feathers he soars o'er the heather a sight that's both fearsome and glorious He fights brave and true 'til he wins what is due him the Eagle is ever victorious! |