Maelle MacLeod — They Said There Was A Dragon in Avelon | 1267

“They Said There Was A Dragon in Avelon” is from Maelle MacLeod’s album *1267*. A song about a dragon who did not need wings, scales or fire — only a throne, a crown, and men willing to act in his name. From 1267 by Maelle MacLeod. This track was created with the assistance of generative AI as part of the Fleur Sauvage Records project. Lyrics below. They said there was a dragon in Avelon. Not in the mountains. Not beneath the stone. He lived where bells were ringing, where the broad green rivers ran. And wherever went the dragon, grief followed close behind. He came into the villages and left the rafters red. He took the sons from mothers and sent them homeward dead. He took the bread from tables, the barley from the field. And those who begged for mercy had nothing left to yield. Oh, there was a dragon in Avelon, and hungry was his flame. The widow cursed him softly, the orphan feared his name. Lock the door and hide the grain. Pray he passes on. They said there was a dragon, a dragon in Avelon. He took the girls their virtue, then called their weeping lies. He took old women’s hope away and laughter from their eyes. He drank the milk of infants before it reached their lips. He took the wool from winter beds, the silver from the crypts. The forest was his kingdom. The deer were his alone. A hungry man who trapped a hare might never make it home. The boar belonged unto him, the stag, the stream, the tree. The poor could watch them through the leaves and call the watching free. Oh, there was a dragon in Avelon, with hunger without end. He took the farmer's harvest and the beggar's final friend. Hide your daughter. Hide your son. Pray he passes on. They said there was a dragon, a dragon in Avelon. He called the young men from their homes and sent them far away. To fields they'd never heard of, for causes none could say. Some never crossed the threshold of their mother's house again. Some came home without a hand, an eye, a leg— and then were told to praise the dragon for the honour they had won. Their children learned what honour meant. It meant there was no bread. The dragon built great towers while cottages fell down. He dressed his friends in velvet and his enemies in chains. He feasted through the winter when the cattle froze outside. And every empty cradle was a tribute to his pride. Oh, there was a dragon in Avelon. We knew his appetite. We heard him in the taxman's fist, the soldier in the night. Bolt the door. Put out the fire. Pray he passes on. There was a dragon, a dragon in Avelon. You've heard of dragons, children. Wings. Claws. Scales like iron. Fire in their mouths. This one had none. He had men to make his fire. Men to be his claws. Men to take the farmer's grain and call it lawful cause. He needed neither wings nor teeth. He had a throne. And a crown. No knight came riding from the hills. No shining sword was drawn. No saint descended from the clouds to save poor Avelon. We waited. Buried children. Paid. Obeyed. Endured. Until one winter morning the bells began to sound. The dragon had stopped breathing. Oh, there was a dragon in Avelon. There was. There is no more. The mothers opened windows. The children crossed the door. No hero slew the dragon. No ballad can pretend. The beast had ruled for forty years. And forty years must end. You want to know his name? They called him His Beloved Majesty, John the Second, King of Avelon. And when at last the dragon died, the bells rang all day long. Not one knight had slain the beast. He simply lived too long. So mind the tales of dragons, child. The old songs sometimes lie. The worst of them have human hands. And do not need to fly.