The pith of history

A bunch of drunken Normans came on a day trip from Boulogne,
They bought their duty free fags and a couple of bottles of woine
They had an English beer or two which filled them with such zest
They thought they'd buy red noses for this was a Norman conk quest

(Ch) Run this by me once more, the pith of history

There were no noses to be bought for they had not been invented
And with their bellies full of beer the French were discontented
So Bill the boss told all his lads to go out on the spree
Kick some plate glass windows in and bash up OAPs

(Ch)

King Harold was at Stamford Bridge though West Ham were at home
When first editions carried news of vandalism done
But he was north and they were south so he didn't go like he oughter
He thought it was excessive prose by tabloid press reporters

(Ch)

By the time he got down to the coast a battle was in full swing
There was bits of bodies flying about and lumps of dirt and things
And one of his blokes says 'what'll we do we can't just let things lie?'
'Hang about' says Harold 'I've got something in my eye'

(Ch)