Kings Pleasure

i listened to an album by Nic Jones of olde English folk songs.
never really listened to this kinda music before,but something has clicked
and now i seem to be writing in this style.Often this music is sung unaccompanied.

Kings Pleasure
At the kings pleasure  i rot in his cell
cut off from the world
for the crimes i committed
and the lies that i told
four walls surround me
fed on meagre rations
for this is my world
for many a long year
the months pass slowly
and the years linger on
my body disheveled
beard grown to my knees
all day to reflect
on the people i wronged
theres many a day
feel i cant carry on
at the kings pleasure
i cant carry on