We’ve left computers, jobs, and cars and come out to the site
We’ve pitched our tents and donned our garb and stayed up half the night
Responsibilities and cares have been left far behind
Don’t talk about the traffic jam, if you would be so kindThe only sound we want to hear is voices on the breeze
Turn off the cassette player and the GameBoy, if you please
It’s much too late to change our minds and here’s the comedy
We’ve come to be where we can see no twentieth centuryChorus:
Don’t try to call me on the telephone
For I’ve left the house and nobody is at home
Go away, go away
Come back in a thousand years and maybe we’ll playDon’t try to call me by my real name
I won’t turn to look because it’s not the game
Go away, go away
Come back in a thousand years and maybe we’ll playWe’re stuck out in a field and it is all that we desired
The smell of smoke is on the wind and we are all so tired
We left the city hours ago to play our silly game
If you didn’t bathe before you left you’ve only yourself to blameThe ringing of the stakes is sweet as they are hammered home
The sound of curses mar the night, their owners are unknown
We’ve fantasized all week about the coming of this day
And now that we are finally here we want to get far awayChorus:
The cell phone didn’t make it to the site
So don’t call me with emergencies in the night
Go away, go away
Come back in a thousand years and maybe we’ll playForget about that pager number, too
‘Cause the battery’s dead, and what is a gal to do
Go away, go away
Come back in a thousand years and maybe we’ll playA laptop! -- you must really think I’m mad
I wouldn’t be here if I wanted to work that bad
Go away, go away
Come back in a thousand years and maybe we’ll play
(but not today!)
A little ditty about the joys of SCA camping. -- Tatiana Nikolaevna Tumanova
The West Kingdom History Website was created by and is maintained by Hirsch von Henford (mka Ken Mayer).