In the year 1213

(Verse 1) Scarborough Castle, strong and tall, Held prisoners within its walls, Captured at Dieppe's fierce fight, A fortress in the kingdom's might. (Chorus) Oh, the tales these walls could tell, Of prisoners and their sad farewells, In the defence of the crown, Scarborough Castle held its ground. (Verse 2) Peter of Pomfret, hermit so wise, Predicted King John's demise, For his words, he paid the price, Imprisoned in Corfe's cold ice. (Bridge) Dragged by horses, to Warham's gate, A tragic end, a cruel fate, Hanged on a gibbet with his son, For a prophecy that couldn't be undone. (Chorus) Oh, the tales these walls could tell, Of prisoners and their sad farewells, In the defence of the crown, Scarborough Castle held its ground. (Verse 3) In Pickering Forest, wild and free, The King's huntsmen roamed with glee, Peter Fitzherbert stood on guard, With boar and hounds, he worked hard. (Verse 4) Salt the meat, and store it well, Boar heads soaked in wine's spell, Royal hunts, a tradition grand, In Pickering Forest's ancient land. (Chorus) Oh, the tales these walls could tell, Of prisoners and their sad farewells, In the defence of the crown, Scarborough Castle held its ground. (Outro) From castles strong to forests deep, The kingdom's secrets it does keep, In history's pages, we find the lore, Of kings and knights and so much more.