The wind it rages so my love,

But chill is something we don't fear.

The tower bells, the clock above

The centuries of history here!

'Tis said the lives of two young boys

Were taken in this tower one night;

Richard the Third had them destroyed;

On Kingly ambitions they were a blight!

Yet that is food for mortal minds,

And we but creatures of the night.

Another day has passed and finds

An ache inside that must take flight!

Come fly with me and taste the flesh

Of centuries of Royal blood!

In Palace shadows, we'll refresh

Just as we did before the flood.

The taste is not as sweet as that,

Of Cajun veins, nor sweet Creole.

These Brits not juicy, nor as fat,

As folks from our beloved home.

We'll keep sharp eyes on this night's prowl,

For drunken blindness, dulled red noses.

In dreadful silence, drape our cowls;

As lifeless hands shall clutch black roses.