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
Well I's with Custer and the 7th in ‘76 or ‘77 Scalped at Little Big Horn by the Sioux And the tears and devastation of a once proud warrior nation This I know ‘cause I was riding with them too
And I drank mare's blood on the run when I rode with the Great Khan On the frozen Mongol steppe while at his height And I's a White Guard, I's a Red Guard, I's the Tsar's own palace horse guard When Romanov was murdered in the night
And I knew Saladin and rode his swift Arabians Harassing doomed crusaders on their heavy drafts And yet I rode the Percheron against the circling Saracen Once again against myself was cast
Well 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
Well I've worn the Mounties' crimson, if you're silent and you'll 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, cold as blood
I's the 'fustest with the mostest' when I fought for Bedford Forrest Suffered General Wilson's Union raid And 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
Well 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 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 barbered wire or the armored 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 And no matter defeat or victory, in battle it occurs to me That we may see a swelling in our ranks
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 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 YanksTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
