Yes An Haunted Castle In Jersey.
Saint Helier walks to and throe, chanting his psalms.
Born in the year 510AD, a bizarre 6th century man.
Song and prayer, a church meeting upon the mount.
Helier's Island congregation, were at Mont de la ville.
Jersey Inhabited, by only a few nomads and a Monk.
The Saxons brutally attacked them, at about midday.
The Pirates on their fatal day, had been hiding at sea.
Fog arrived early morning, anchored off of Corbiere.
They came ashore, unseen stealthily in st aubin bay.
Crossing sand banks, hiding out amongst oak trees.
Chopping off their heads, playing football with them.
They kicked St Helier's head, north of mount Bingham.
Where the seas high tide, washed it up on the shore.
The shore it lay, his tomb-stone now, the church alter.
An ideal man rejoiced for his good, a slaughtered saint.
Yes Elizabeth Castle Jersey, it is now being haunted.
A man of Christian faith, he endured long loneliness.
Time slip into the past, Peering out of his grotto door.
His ghost is all alone in his grotto, awaiting us visitors.
A real sense of being, paradise with islets and coves.
Anthony Fry Jersey. (jambojersey)
Saint Helier walks to and throe, chanting his psalms.
Born in the year 510AD, a bizarre 6th century man.
Song and prayer, a church meeting upon the mount.
Helier's Island congregation, were at Mont de la ville.
Jersey Inhabited, by only a few nomads and a Monk.
The Saxons brutally attacked them, at about midday.
The Pirates on their fatal day, had been hiding at sea.
Fog arrived early morning, anchored off of Corbiere.
They came ashore, unseen stealthily in st aubin bay.
Crossing sand banks, hiding out amongst oak trees.
Chopping off their heads, playing football with them.
They kicked St Helier's head, north of mount Bingham.
Where the seas high tide, washed it up on the shore.
The shore it lay, his tomb-stone now, the church alter.
An ideal man rejoiced for his good, a slaughtered saint.
Yes Elizabeth Castle Jersey, it is now being haunted.
A man of Christian faith, he endured long loneliness.
Time slip into the past, Peering out of his grotto door.
His ghost is all alone in his grotto, awaiting us visitors.
A real sense of being, paradise with islets and coves.
Anthony Fry Jersey. (jambojersey)
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