I like that idea a lot. Now I just need to work out a way to write 'Stairway to Sovngarde' without completely butchering the rhythm.
I do have one from my Madgod story, a 'Shivering Isles-ised' version of the Irish folk song,
Song of a Harper. In short, a darker and bloodier version of the original, as fitting with the Isle.
Oh, they say 'tis a hanging that soon I will be
My body twisting from yonder mushroom tree.
For daring to dream that a harper could sing free,
I now die, for Order's hands end me.
Yet the strings of my harp will never be stilled,
while the land of Mania lies over the hill,
for the music of the Isles is their strength and their will,
and the soul of the harper nought can ever kill.
Oh the tyrant king on his cold crystal throne,
fears song's freedom he never has known.
Our bright Shiv'ring passion comes through in the tone,
so he orders it silenced and broods all alone.
Yet the strings of my harp will never be stilled,
while the land of Mania lies over the hill,
for the music of the Isles is their strength and their will,
and the soul of the harper nought can ever kill.
He'll string out my guts and drag me on the lane,
blood streaming on out of my open veins.
I'll kick and I'll scream in my terrible pain,
and as I die my blood the ground shall red stain.
Yet the strings of my harp will never be stilled,
while the land of Mania lies over the hill,
for the music of the Isles is their strength and their will,
and the soul of the harper nought can kill.
For one of the road, death holds no sting,
'tis another adventure, a wondrous thing.
And I know that my music shall evermore ring,
in the hill and the rivers of Mania's spring.
Yet the strings of my harp will never be stilled,
while the land of Mania lies over the hill,
for the music of the Isles is their strength and their will,
and the soul of the harper nought can ever kill