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On tyrant's land
Near Gainesboro town
He sits so still
Wears no smile nor a frown
His hair shines black
As a raven's wing
And the sound of his pipes
Make the old trees sing
(Chorus:)
Hear, hear the shepherd's song he sings it just for you
Hear, hear the shepherd's song he sings it just for you
With crook in hand
His staff and sling
He spreads the news
Of crusades and the king
His flock around
On a cold dark night
And he plays his pipes
To the fire light Chorus
His ghost now walks
That lonely moor
At dead of night
When the north winds roar
And in the season
When time is ripe
He'll chill the air
With the sound of his pipes
(Chorus)
