The Mighty Dragon Song

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Ash Mandrake

Newspaper articles: Bath Chronicle 2007

Read the newspaper article: Bard Targets Banks In Poetic Fight For Justice

The Mighty Dragon Song

Once upon a time:

  • Viking village making babies, eating food and having fun.
  • Down comes a dragon – swallows the moon and sun.
  • The Vikings feed the dragon bank managers and bailiffs.
  • The dragon lies on its back for 20 years with stomach ache.
  • When nature takes its course, they burn his ring so badly that the dragon coughs up the moon and the sun.
  • Viking village making babies, eating food and having fun.

The End

Ash Mandrake

Ash Mandrake


Published in The Bath Chronicle, p3, 12 April 2007


He may be a poet in the tradition of the Celts and Druids – but the Bard of Bath has a very modern foe. While his predecessors wrote of ancient battles, Ash Mandrake is waging war on high street banks.

Yesterday he took his protest poem about bank charges on to the streets of the city, much to the mirth of the assembled public.

Crowds of shoppers in Milsom Street gathered to watch him bellow The Mighty Dragon Song while wearing traditional bardic garb.

The poem, which won him the Bard of Bath competition, is a thinly veiled attack on bank managers, and tells of them being fed to a greedy dragon by their fellow men.

Mr Mandrake said he hoped his protest would persuade banks in the city to reveal what percentage of customers’ debts were attributable to their own charges while also raising a smile.

“When I was unemployed, four separate standing orders for £30 went out of my account and I ended up being charged for all of them,” he said.

“Suddenly my bank account had taken me to an unmanageable level of debt and my bank then refused to close the account.

“This followed more than six years of being charged full whack whenever I went a few pounds overdrawn.

“I want banks to know that these excessive and immoral charges cause anger and distress for people who are on very low incomes anyway and they must be held accountable for this.”

Via the on-street performance and his website Mr Mandrake is hoping to act as a mouthpiece for others similarly affected by the charges.

“I want to hear stories from people whose banks have been brutal with them and put those tales across if they don’t want to do it themselves,” he said.

“Banks need to feel shame for the things that happen to these people after they hit them with these charges.”

Mr Mandrake said he wanted disgruntled customers to email him and he would then compile a letter which they could send en masse to the banks urging them to reveal how much their charges had cost individuals.

“People can then know how much of their debts are actually caused by the banks,” he added.

In addition to his poetic duties, he is currently trying to break on to the south west gigging circuit with his band The Mandrake Project.

The Chronicle published excerpts from The Mighty Dragon Song, but much was lost in the censoring. Below is a sign I used on the street on Milson Street (the bank street), Bath

Ash Mandrake

Newspaper articles: Bath Chronicle 2007


Cold it was when the dragon first came,
With a flapping of wings and a crackle of flames,
Our houses were burnt and our crops were all ash,
Raised to the ground in an almighty flash.

For the seasons they have changed,
The seasons they have changed,
The seasons they have changed,
And we are weak and cold.

So we called to our allies from far cross the sea;
The brave, the strong, the fierce and the free;
But this was the answer that came back to me.

The seasons they have changed,
The seasons they have changed,
The seasons they have changed,
And we can’t help you now mate!

The darkness came and he swallowed the moon
And all hell fell upon us from dusk until noon,
For we’d hoped for the sun, but he swallowed that too.

And our seasons they have changed,
Our seasons are all deranged,
We only have light from our flames
And we are weak and cold.

So we called to our wise men:
Said – “What shall we do?”
And they gave us ideas;
Yes, they had quite a few.
But most were just crap,
And the rest were all blue,
For they just couldn’t get enough.
They just couldn’t get any muff.

For the seasons never change
For those who cannot laugh.

Then came a young woman;
Yes, Job was her name;
With a big spotty bottom,
And a wonderful brain
She said “Hey lads…I know who to blame.

Let’s get down to the city now boys,
Down to the city now.

And down in the city in the sewers of wealth,
We found all those bastards who knacker your health
Bailiffs, bank managers, telly licensing too
And all the other bastards who live in that zoo.

And we gathered them all together.
We knew that was what we should do.

Oh! We gathered them up into ten gallon vats,
And we rolled them up where the fat dragon sat,
And he gobbled them up, and then he spat
Go forth and bring me more.

So we brought him plenty more
And we rolled them to his door.

For twenty long years he lay flat on his back
Clutching his belly, as sick as a rat;
But it hurt even more when the poor dragon shat!
‘Cos the bastards burnt his ring.
(You should have heard him sing.)

With a wail like a banshee
He coughed up the sun
And then with the mightiest
Blast from his bum,

The moon it followed soon Oh
The moon it followed soon Oh.


And now with our day and our night fresh restored,
We are ready to reap all our worthy rewards.
Our crops grow strong in the ash of his waste
And we throw dragon shite in our enemy’s face.

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