Looking oevr my shoulder, I see the smoke of my sacked cloister rising into the clear cold sky
My hands are bound and my feet smart as I am marched across the Irish Landscape
Don't take me to Black Pool
Northmen's boots - they walk there
Don't take me to Black Pool
Northmen's boats - they're moored there
I fear that I know where we are heading
My brethren tell me the Northmen take monks to the Black Pool to be loaded ontp their slave ships
Taken to be castrated
Don't take me to Black Pool
Northmen's boots - they walk there
Don't take me to Black Pool
Northmen's boats - they're moored there
Don't take me to Black Pool
Northmen's boots - they walk there
Don't take me to Black Pool
Northmen's boats - they're moored there