I was a shepherd boy for the local town A shepherd boy I am no more The rich man keeps the poor man down and down Till he can't take it anymore Till he can't take it anymore
Mamma tailored me the best of kirtle gowns It fits me fine and comfortably Papa brought the lance he hid in our barn A Husite, son, you soon will be A Husite, son, you soon will be
The hetman cried out “Raise your Sword!” Strike the rich men, bash their horde. And my heart is pounding Like a drum its sounding My soul’s for passion and my Lord My soul’s for passion and my Lord
The crusaders at Tachov standing side by side Their armor ringing like a bell My lance is heavy, and fear staggers deep inside I can’t say that I’m feeling well I can’t say that I’m feeling well
So many pretty girls walk upon this ground I’ve never took one for my own If a crusader will come and strike me down I’ll be pure before that heaven’s throne I’ll be pure before that heaven’s throne
The hetman cried out “Raise your Sword!” Strike the rich men, bash their horde. And my heart is pounding Like a drum its sounding My soul’s for passion and my Lord My soul’s for passion and my Lord
By the fortress from our wooden wagons made Mary in the distance waves Oh crusaders lay one hand within her way And I’ll be spitting down upon your graves I’ll be spitting down upon your graves
I tried to kiss her over there behind that tree She told that I should behave If I live tomorrow Mary wait and see I’ll make you mine that given day I’ll make you mine that given day.
The hetman cried out “Raise your Sword!” Strike the rich men, bash their horde. And my heart is pounding Like a drum its sounding My soul’s for passion and my Lord My soul’s for passion and my Lord
I see crusaders boldly coming down the hill Golden crosses hanging low When they heard the song that rendered our will They turned around hit the road They turned around hit the road
In the tall grass someone stumbled on a hat To a cardinal it once belonged And in that grass both Marie, and I her lad Will live the best of common wrongs He who lives should love for long Let history judge all we’ve done
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