| This land was passed on from my father to me
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| It was barren, didn’t gorw easily
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| We put of all of these stones into pile
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| And how our backs hurt when we passed down the aisles
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| And sat down to be counted again
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| To be asked just how and when
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| We will give you the gold we don’t have for favors never given
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| You’re only trouble as far as I know
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| You start a war wherever you go
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| You’ve never been here and still you say
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| This land is yours from this very day
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| So send your mercenaries
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| To the highlands, through dense forests, down winding paths
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| So send your mercenaries
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| We will greet them with stick and stones, with knife and sword drawn
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| And you left us without a choice
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| Be it a hired hand soldier or a bailiff
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| All we have to get through the winter
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| Is in the barn and in the ryehouse
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| You’re only trouble as far as I know
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| I killed the man with one swift blow
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| We will do what it takes to keep the plunderers off the highlands
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| So send your mercenaries
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| To the highlands, through dense forests, down winding paths
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| So send your mercenaries
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| We will greet them with stick and stones, with knife and sword drawn
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| Civilization’s still the name that it goes by
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| When a fat man draws his lines on a map
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| Civilization is the name that it goes by
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| For King and country, give a mighty salute now
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| So send your mercenaries
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| To the highlands, through dense forests, down winding paths
|
| So send your mercenaries
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| We will greet them with stick and stones, with knife and sword drawn |