Sunny Sunday morning, John decides it’s much too nice to stay inside
As the church is filling, people gathering in worship for their prayers
John takes up his fishing rod and bait
There’ll be no church for him today
He knows just where the fishing’s good
So down the road he makes his way

Walking straight towards him; hooded figure, hunched and wretched ancient crone
Leaves him a warning, telling him no good can come from missing church
Feelings of revulsion fill his soul
The witch’s warning just ignored
The arrogance of youth prevails
And hubris grows in the young lord

Though the weather’s fine the fish won’t bite
The river shows no signs of life
But as the church bell starts to chime
John feels a tugging on his line

Reeling in his catch eager for his prize
His heart sinks in his chest he can’t believe his eyes
An eel like creature swinging from John’s line
It’s narrow snake like head smooth with holes of nine

The witch returning
To bring fresh warning
And down the well
He casts the beast



So many years go by and John goes off to war
Leaving his green hills for the sand
Atoning for his trespasses against god’s law
Crusading in the Holy lands



Now free from the well
Foul creature of hell
Vast slithering form
Save us from the worm
Our cattle and sheep
Our children it eats
Once taken its fill
It coils ‘round the hill

No one has the strength or courage
Keen enough of mind and cunning
Many try and many fail
Every time the worm prevails

Each valiant attempt is foiled
Dismembered body parts rejoin
Appease the beast through sacrifice
Can no one free us from the worm?



So John returns to his home soil
And what he sees makes his blood boil
The harvest of the demon’s seed
The product of his own misdeeds

Although he’s weary from his fight
John resolves to put it right
No longer may this evil feast
For John will slay this vicious beast



No longer spurning
The witch’s learning
And in her wisdom
Lies his solution

To be victorious you must confront your fears
Have faith that what you do is right
You must cover your armour in the heads of spears
And in the river you must fight

But heed my warning
Upon your glory
A curse will be unleashed upon your family name
For Nine generations next
Unless the next life that you come across is slain
They all will suffer in their deaths



John prepares his armour and he tells his father
I will blow my hunting horn once victory’s secured
Then you’ll release my favourite hound
And I’ll strike the creature down
As long as it’s the first
We'll avoid this evil curse

The menacing foul creature slithers
To do battle in the river
Wraps it’s self around the young man
Crushing like a giant python

Each time the worm attempts to squeeze
His armour cuts it and it makes it bleed
Sliced flesh is falling in the river
Washed downstream can’t join back together



As he hears the horn
John’s father’s overcome with joy
Runs to meet his Son
Forgetting all about the curse
John cannot complete his task
He wont slay his father
When he kills his hound it is too late
And the curse he fails to break