Mad Martins

Oh Death, come and claim me, I fear not your grasping hands,
For this wilting once fair flower of Northumberland,
With her final breath, makes this one decree;
That the glory of my sons will be a lasting legacy.

Yes, my family’s name will sound from pole to pole, mark my words;
My sons will shake the world up, be it a blessing or a curse:
But tonight they’re sleeping softly, farewell I must away;
Be at peace until the morning, now let the music play.

Here come the Martins, out to conquer all;
My three fine sons will triumph, with their backs against the wall:
Mad and proud and dangerous, out of sight and out of mind;
Three cheers for three mad Martins, here’s eyesight to the blind.

Firstborn William, your God-like soul it screams,
To bring improvement to the world, through your visions and your dreams.
Let them mock you, let them doubt you, let them say he’s round the bend!;
But they’ll never tame the genius of the 'Lion of Wallsend’.

Blind hypocrites of the clergy, of my Jonathan be afraid,
For your sins and debts against God, will doubtless be repaid,
When my son holds the flaming 'Sword of Justice' in his hand,
And deals out vengeance & destruction with the power of God’s command.

Here come the Martins, out to conquer all;
My three fine sons will triumph, with their backs against the wall:
Mad and proud and dangerous, out of sight and out of mind;
Three cheers for three mad Martins, here’s eyesight to the blind.

I hear the music, such beautiful music;
The trumpets of Heaven are sounding our name:
Though my body is broken, God has spoken;
God has chosen them.

Paint me a picture John, of a dramatic Biblical scene;
To reflect the turbulent nature of your emotions and your dreams:
You will wine and dine with kings and queens; their patronage will be yours,
And you too will tarry, on Invention’s lonely shores.

Yes, my family’s name will sound from pole to pole, mark my words;
My sons will shake the world up, be it a blessing or a curse:
But tonight they’re sleeping softly, farewell I must away;
Be at peace until the morning, now let the music play.

Here come the Martins, out to conquer all;
My three fine sons will triumph with their backs against the wall:
Mad and proud and dangerous, out of sight and out of mind;
Three cheers for three mad Martins, here’s eyesight to the blind;
Three cheers for three mad Martins, here’s eyesight to the blind;
Three cheers for three mad Martins.


(Lyrics & Music: Gary Miller)

© 2017 Whippet Records

Copyright Control MCPS/PRS