Ezio’s Minstrel Songs

While traveling through Forlì
I took her at her leisure
She said "It's strictly business"
Such business was my pleasure.

I am a tactless minstrel
I sing off-key for coins
If you spot me in the street
Please kick me in the loins.

The things I do to save the world
Surprise me time to time
Like learning how to play the lute
And making these words rhyme.

Konstantiniyye, I beg you
Let Byzantium endure
Constantine's corpse would turn
Had not Istanbul the cure.

Vieri, oh Vieri
Yes he of Pazzi fame
Was just as mad as his old man
And ended just the same.

Proud Romagna's iron lady
A rose of tempered steel
Could raise the ardor of a corpse
And teach a stone to feel.

Cesare, oh Cesare,
A man of great depravity
Believed himself immortal 'til
He had a date with gravity.

Oh the beauties of Firenze
Can melt a heart, you see
Beware the girls of Roma
Lest fire you wish to pee.

There once was a man named Duccio
A rat with lecherous taste
Whenever he would show himself
My fist would find his face.

I sing in Italiano
You understand no word
But my Greek is nonexistent
And my Turkish is absurd.

I'm dressed up like a jester
I act the fool and mime
All the actions of those I curse
And run down all the time.

I can't believe I stand here
And sing, my time I waste
But you who sit and smile at me
Sincerely have no taste.

Before Rodrigo was the Pope
He was a man of vices
And once he gained the Holy Seat
He raised his vices' prices.

To judge a lady's character
Note well her company
If you should wish to seem a sage
Come spend the night with me.

Fair Lucrezia could not sate
Her appetite for lovers
But I suspect she would be fine
With two or three more brothers.

Young Cesare, I heard him say
Could not be killed by man
So I tossed him through the air
To see where he might land.

Venezia's grim Doge
A fierce and evil man
Was just a trifle red of face
When I upset his plan.

No one understands my plight
The life of a musician
Singing for impatient men
A terminal condition.

I will sing in praise of children
I will croon in praise of dames
I will chant in praise of mighty men
When I recall their names.

A minstrel's song I heard them say
Brings maidens by the score
But luck deserts me when I play
They hasten to the door.