Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
Richard Thompson
[Verse 1]
King Henry lay upon his bed
Lay musing on a tribute due
A tribute due from the King of France
That hadn't been paid for so long a day
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
[Verse 2]
Oh the King he called for his lovely page
His lovely page then he called he
Saying "You must go to the King of France
To the King of France ride speedily"
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
[Verse 3]
And then away went this lovely page
This lovely page then away went he
And when he came to the King of France
Low he fell down and bending knee
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
[Verse 4]
"Oh my master greets you worthy sir
Ten tons of gold that is due to he
That you will send him as tribute home
Or in French land you will soon him see"
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
[Verse 5]
"Oh your master's young and of tender years
Not fitter to come into my degree
And I will send him three tennis balls
That with them he may learn to play"
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
[Verse 6]
Oh the page he returned to the English court
"What news, what news?" cried King Henry
"Such news as I'm afraid to speak
For with this news you'll never agree"
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
[Verse 7]
He says "You are young and of tender years
Not fitter to come into his degree
And he will send you three tennis balls
That with them you may learn to play"
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
[Verse 8]
Then Henry writes to the King of France
His pen never flew so speedily
Said "I will toss you some London balls
That'll shake your courts so grievously"
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
[Verse 9]
And then we marched into French land
With drums and trumps so merrily
And bespeaks the King of France
"Yonder comes proud King Henry"
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
[Verse 10]
Oh the first shot that the Frenchman gave
They killed our English men so free
We killed ten thousand of the French
The rest of them they all ran away
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
Fa-la, dre-la, da-la, fa-la-la-day
King Henry V’s Conquest of France was written by Traditional.