Lord byron

When a child he lived in poverty
wealth developed in his mind
handsom, pale, aristocratic ancestry
Byron was his name
Cambridge days, those were the crazy days
he, the leader of a new wave
profile posed against a stormy, windy sky
a symbol for the brave

One thousand cups of gold
many the stories told
so many heroes alive
He, no one could control
earth was no home to him
bright is the place of his soul

England in the 19th century
had condemned him as depraved
with his exile his extravagance was paid
while the public raved
Water city of the heart he chose
Venice, a lover and a friend
a crazy caravan of countess
monkey and dogs
he set a gypsy trend

One thousand cups of gold
many the stories told
so many heroes alive
He, no one could control
earth was no home to him
bright is the place of his soul

With the poets that will never die
nothern winds blew him to Greece
in the agian water's ancient battle zone
Byron rests in peace