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 Im 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 oer 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 Dostums 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 Is 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