Jack In Irons

By Catt Kingsgrave

On the moorland tracks of Scotland

In the moon’s uncertain light

It is often that the mists will cloak

The world in faceless white

Then a man could walk beside you

But you’d never see his face

And a mob might march behind you,

Full fog-muffled in their pace.

On such a wicked night

The moor-folk have a tale to tell;

Don’t go out upon the moorlands

If your life you value well

For apart from mortal dangers,

Worse than any man could be

Is the giant Jack in Irons,

Whom no man has lived to see.

And it’s clank, clank, clank

There’s a heavy step upon the road

Clank, clank, clank,

Any wonder that your blood runs cold?

And now come down your choices;

Do you take the chance to flee

Or meet the giant jester

Of the court Unseeligh Sidhe?

Not a man knows where he comes from,

Not a man knows where he goes

But he always leaves behind

A battered corpse in bloody clothes

And sometimes the head’s been crushed

And other times it’s fully gone.

No one laughs to find the giant’s jokes

Beside the road at dawn.

But it’s sometimes that a traveler

Will laugh at such a tale.

With a smile to all grim warnings

He will take the darkened trail

Then, perhaps an hour later

When the moon is in the sky,

The hounds will raise a clamour

As if death is looming nigh.

And it’s clank, clank, clank

There’s a heavy step upon the road

Clank, clank, clank,

Any wonder that your blood runs cold?

And now come down your choices;

Do you take the chance to flee

Or meet the giant jester

Of the court Unseeligh Sidhe?

Oh the local folk will shiver

They will turn a little white

And each one will thank the Lord

It isn’t HIM out in the night

And when dawn reveals the slaughter

Of the fool they tried to warn

There’ll be not a one surprised

He didn’t live to see the morn.

On you cannot blame the moor-folk

If their words you didn’t heed

And it matters not to Jack

If you abhor his bloody deed.

You can only blame your folly

Should you find you’re not alone

When the moorland mist is rising

And you’re far away from home.

Then it’s clank, clank, clank,

There he stands before you in the road

Clank, clank, clank,

Very proper that your blood runs cold

You’ve run out of choices

For there’s no time left to flee

The deadly Jack in Irons is come

To make his fun of thee.