Corb Lund - Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier lyrics

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 Custer in the 7th, ‘76 or ‘77 Scalped at Little Big Horn by the Sioux And the pain and desperation 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 when at it's height I's a White Guard, I's a Red Guard, I's the Tsar's own palace horse guard When Nicholas was murdered in the night I knew Saladin and rode his swift Arabians Hara**ing doomed crusaders on their heavy drafts And yet I rode the Percheron against the circling Saracens And once again against myself was cast Well I've worn the Mounties crimson, if you're silent and you 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, coldest blood I's the firstest with the mostest when I fought for Bedford Forrest Suffered General Wilson's Union raid Mine was not to reason why, mine was but to do or 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 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 barbed wire or the armoured 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 No matter defeat or victory, in battle it occurs to me That we may see a swelling in our ranks 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 Yanks