In 1697 a horrid sight was born.
An awful sight that made his mother mourn.
A beast so twisted green as if he from the trees,
Robbie Boyle left darkened the fields and the leas.
He took the lives of children; he took the lives of kin.
The head of a boar and no reason lied within.
30 years are passing but they soon would end,
In a fortnight's time, he'd answer for his sin.
The crimson on the green, They took the head of Robbie Boyle.
A slug of blood was spilled, In pleasure's toil.
The Sharpest knife cuts clean, The beauty is unspoiled.
The crimson on the green, They took the head of Robbie Boyle
The monster Robbie Boyle well he had found a mate,
A thing born of incest and a thing born of rape.
She made a havoc with him deciding other's fate,
For 30 years twas a bloody hand of hate.
The men of the town, well they was mighty brave
They hunted she and Robbie, a'sleeping in cave.
They brought down their axes, they brought down their staves.
At last it was done and the free were finally saved.
They carried the broken bodies, And heads all through the town.
Where young and old had gathered, And made a joyous sound.
Vultures waited hoping. They had gathered round.
They tread no more On our hallowed ground.
