| The watchers on the hillside stand in silence
|
| As the dawn appears
|
| Then they gather to their horses in an instant
|
| As a sunshaft sears
|
| Through the morning mist which hangs low in the valleys
|
| Like a serpent’s tail
|
| Both poisonous to enemies and heroes
|
| In the soldiers' tale
|
| A lonely tower stands empty as a refuge
|
| By the sullen lake
|
| As the straggle of survivors, in their weakness
|
| Make a grave mistake
|
| For the crossroad sign which points towards the cost
|
| Is another nail
|
| In the cross of the Pretender and his comrades
|
| In the soldiers' tale
|
| The dream we once knew
|
| Is now over
|
| The battle is lost
|
| The retreat has begun
|
| Let us make our escape
|
| In the dead of the night
|
| While the lone widows wail
|
| In the soldiers' tale
|
| The French boat, at the ready, stands at anchor
|
| On the swollen tide
|
| His loyal followers raise a faint cheer
|
| As he draws aside
|
| The Pretender’s cause is lost, a sad farewell
|
| As the boat sets sail
|
| And the rain hurls down on the challenge of the gauntlet
|
| In the soldiers' tale
|
| The soldiers' song is never sung
|
| The soldiers' battle never won
|
| The soldiers' lives are bought an sold
|
| The soldiers' bayonets are cold
|
| The soldiers' guns are never fired
|
| The soldiers' eyes are never tired
|
| The soldiers' hearts are filled with hate
|
| A soldier’s cause must ever wait |