Corb Lund - Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier - Sözleri

music and lyrics by Corb Lund





I'm a hussar, I'm a Hun, I'm a wretched Englishman 


Routing Bonaparte at Waterloo


I'm a dragoon on a dun, I'm a Cossack on the run


I'm a horse soldier, timeless, through and through


I’m a horse soldier, eternal, through and through





I's with Custer and the 7th in ‘76 or ‘77 


Scalped at Little Big Horn by the Sioux


And the pain and desperation of a once proud warrior nation


This I know ‘cause I was riding with them too





I drank mare's blood on the run when I rode with the Great Khan


On the frozen Mongol steppe when at his height


I's a White Guard, I's a White Guard, I's the Tsar's own palace horse guard 


When Nicholas was martyred in the night





I knew Salah al-Din and rode his swift Arabians


Harassing doomed crusaders on their heavy drafts


And yet I rode the Percheron against the circling Musselman


And once again against myself was cast





Well I've worn the Mounties crimson, if you're silent and you listen


You'll know that it was with them that I stood


When Mayerthorpe, she cried, as her four horsemen died 


Gunned down in scarlet, coldest blood





I's the firstest with the mostest when I fought for Bedford Forrest


Suffered General Wilson's Union raid


Mine was not to reason why, mine was but to do and die


At Crimea with the charging light brigade





On hire from Swiss or Sweden, be me Christian, be me heathen


The devil to the sabre I shall put


With a crack flanking maneuver, I'm an uhlan alles uber


Striking terror into regiment of foot





I knew my days were numbered when o’er the trenches lumbered 


More modern machinations de la guerre


No match for rapid fire or the steel birds of the sky


With a final rear guard action I retreat


No match for tangled wire or the armoured engines whine 


Reluctant I retire and take my leave





Today I ride with special forces on those wily Afghan horses


Dostum’s Northern Alliance give their thanks


No matter defeat or victory, in battle it occurs to me


That we may see a swelling in our ranks





I’s with the Aussies at Beersheba took the wells so badly needed


And with the Polish lancers charging German tanks


Saw Ross' mount shot down at Washingtown the night we burned the White House down


And cursed the sack of York and sons of Yanks












		
			



Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com