Jacob Tilley - The Cavalier lyrics

Chronicles: The Cavalier 1) The Cavalier is en route to Cavalaire on cavalry What we have here is a brute who'd stabbed with spears and witnessed insanity He'd k**ed for his crown and country, town and mother he loved but he Was still ugly and scarred, with cuts through his face and heart Carried with him memories, his mind clanks with gears of wars It was not just his body that was pierced with swords His soul was torn and had ended many by who their mothers were born And extinguished any hope even that which was forlorn But he rides through golden fields and over rolling hills Reminiscing over opponents which had yielded but still had k**ed He regrets, but never forgets the number of heads He'd helped pa** from this life to the next It is his duty, but still shows respect As he lullabies on his way, he sees a bu*terfly in his array No distinct path is he following, entranced by its flutter he decides to follow it Through bracken and woods, and becomes deeper so he tracks it on foot His pauldrons clunk as the intrigue of the plot thickens Like a cauldron filled with chunks of hot chicken Tenderly, the bu*terfly comes to a halt, so too, he stops To see his location, unto his fascination He'd found a cabin in the middle of the forest But no hounds, rabbits or squirrels, this area was darkest The graceful creature flew ever closer, but ever nearer something hung over his shoulder… 2) The Cavalier is en route to Cavalaire on cavalry He battled in Krak des Chevaliers for his majesty, his family But now returns home after such travesty From war galore, d**h, broken bones: a tragedy But he enters the cabin, shield at the ready incase Something tries stabbing him, unconcealed sword from the waist But upon visual a**essment, all is dormant and resting Just the aura though has some ungodly blessing He delves deeper into the depths of the darkness But he can feel his energy and essence being harnessed A scythe to the golden harvest, but this is contrasting As in the corner by an open canopy of the cabin Is some form of knight, figurement of non-sanity grabbing a reflection of his life Because when the Cavalier approached the knight He found he had died in agony In vanity, insanity; snippets of sunlight presents clarity But past will be the time where all is smooth and velvet As the Cavalier, tensely, removed the helmet But shock clutches as if in the presence of a k**er Because he sees the knight's eyes and he's looking in a mirror He sees the scars and the ugliness inside And all the men he k**ed, at their gravestone, mothers cry And their hands shiver, and their knees trembling, weak And the swords that slice the scars that live upon his cheek He runs out, falls to his knees and is plagued by misery Looks over himself, a startling epiphany Will this be how he's seen in history? Not a man of chivalry, but a dread cruel mystery “I want not this, I fought for my love My Father, my God, and for Heaven above Not one single soul can take that from me...” But it's not what was taken, it's what he gave they do not see “I cannot stay, I must return to my horse, back to me!” And he ran to reach the authenticity of reality He is not a brute with a story of battle he's The Cavalier, en route to Purgatory; from Calvary…