Ho! Hark my men, hear what our “lord” has said.
He calls after us, “coward!”, and still wishes me dead.
I'll tell him what for, give him my piece,
Upon that ridge, It will anger him at least.
Listen hear! Oh iron lord,
You shout at us, for we draw our cords,
Instead of meet you on battlefield, cleat and lead,
We both know that we'll simply wind up dead.
So yes, on your steed and with your
You have the advantage, Hoist your banner grand.
With torturous barb, and cruelest lance,
the peasants you trod cannot stop your advance.
But where do you think that gold was
Stolen from rightful owner, church, and orphanage stew!
Your army, your sword; stolen from honest man's plow.
So tell me, who do you think the coward is now?
So go on, iron lord, scream into the night.
But we know you'll have no rest under moon and sun,
As long as you chase us, for sleep you'll have none.
Watch your back, iron lord, your men only honor coin,
You'll jump at shadows, as long as you chase,
You're lord of rats and pigs and all traitorous race.
Goodbye iron lord, consider this the last.
Next time you're alone, without a single friend,
Ask yourself; “Will that coward bring me my end?"