Recently found in the U-Bend of the toilet in Lord Byron's house in Stoke Newington
"Cantus Eskbankus" or "Childe Harold's pilgrimage to the Eskbank trading with accompanying Berlioz Encylopaedic misunderstanding of the content of said poem through him being too much of a histrionic romantic figure obsessed with presenting his own emotional life through the musical medium and him BEING FROM SPAIN, NOT ESKBANK AND NOT ACTUALLY PLAYING THE PIANO DESPITE BEING A COMPOSER"
"Sing to me, oh malformed bard
Of wondrous things and far-flung truths
Of lands where rivers run with lard
And citizens be'st spectacularly uncouth
Sing to me of Hardengreen
Its fair and fairly fair enough lands
Its' industry and velo-track
And the cuisine be partake in burger vans"
Said the wond'ring perspiring knight
Aseated upon haemmhroid veins
To the travelling minstrel soul
Who was wired quite sadly to the mains
Said knighty "o where for such a place
Where I might rest my weary face
Live out my days in wond'rous peace
On a diet consisting most of yeast"
Said minstrel "I have travelled wide
Seen many ladies foul and fair
But in this land of yours you will rejoice
at the ladies to be found whilst there"
"O" cried most excitable knight
Farting execrably with delight
"Tell me of this Beauteous land
For I am slow and fat of hand"
"Well" said bard now in dismay
For to tell a tale he took all day
For he was known to never fail
To mire himself in pointless detail
"The place we apelle'st itself Eskbank
Is known as birthplace true of God
In every house a septic tank
No soul walks by without a prod
The spirit soars in aesthetic glee
As vigorous walking unveils the sight
A quaint of trips to trading post
To buy sausages on'st a monday night
But cower in fear now little one
And arm thyself unto the teeth
For now is Sexy Alan's domain
And he for one will give thee grief
Clad in Y-fronts, yellowstained
Hid behind the Ancrum wall
Many Lassies twixt the twain
And he has seduced entirely all
But Sexy Alan is no cad
No, bounder, rake or dandy
He is but a morbidly obese unemployed former darts champion
Who is stricken psychotically randy
Best take your leave in public house
Like none you've seen before
All who risk the Justinlees
Must enter by means of door
And thursday bringest finest minds
From miles and miles around
For talk there is of sabotage
Now in the music round
You will find your refuge here
From Sexy Alan's glare
Once too many disgraced himself
Now he be barred'st from there"
"Zounds" said night all in a rage
And shook a falbby fist
"I'll show this Alan a thing or two,
Shame him too exist
Set free this eden from the yoke
Of Y-fronts and a vest
Of manboobs, beergut, TV guide
And fondling of breast"
"Many have tried and fallen so"
Said minstrel to crusader
"Napoleon, Stalin, The Dukes of Hazzard
Che Guevara and Darth Vader"
"I heed no warning" said the chap
And headed on his way
To Eskbank's green and beauteous lands
On this blood-red and fateful day.
For this news had reached Alan's ears
In ambush he would wait
With hairdressing scissors and garden shears
To dish out fateful fate.
The knight was taken by surprise
On Newbattle Road
The look of fear was in his eyes
As Alan to'd and Fro'd
Said Alan "You must die'st now
For plotting there a plotty plot"
But the knight whipped out a bladey blade
And killed him in a jot.
And now Eskbank was free again
And all was blissy bliss
And the knight he sang a bar or two
A lyric that went like this
"Oh stumble gilded men of old
Of cuckolded kneepads and odourous face
Traverse'd the beauteous Dalhousie Road
And nail'd Chris Lyons with a mace."
Scholars have declared it incredibly forward looking in its' inept use of metre and rhyme, however some have deride it as a forgery created by Sir Walter Scott to bemsirch the name of Sexy Alan. Either way, it is a fine addition to our heritage.