On that beach Orchi and Goldie were sat,
Me drinking my whisky, without water,
Orchi eating his pork pie with no fat
While Fido around the beach did potter.
We looked out to the sea and saw all the ships
Filled with those Normans to conquer our land,
But all was well as Harold to us skips
With all his soldiers riding in a band.
But Orchi ruined it all in his way
And told Harold to look up in the sky,
An arrow came down from within the fray
And struck that poor Harold right in his eye.
So from that fine day in ten sixty six
The fault of Harolds death with Orchi sticks.