Adventure we called it and went off to battle
We thought ourselves grand as we marched off like cattle
We trudged through our days and at night hugged the cold ground
We shivered and twitched and we dreamed of some nut-brown

At night we would dance in our dreams to the drunken fairies calling us home
Home, Home, Home, Home, Home

The cold settled into our bones and our toes
The drip from our noses and stench from our clothes
We tramped till feet bled then collapsed with the twilight
And those were the good days with no foe in sight

At night we would dance in our dreams to the drunken fairies calling us home
Home, Home, Home, Home, Home

With naught for our bellies and no one to hold us
We starved and we bled and we killed when they told us
I have too few words for that band of my brothers
We died for our prince but we lived for each other

At night we would dance in our dreams to the drunken fairies calling us home
Home, Home, Home, Home, Home

We longed for our hearth and the warmth of our women
We worried a new man would raise up our children
The weeks turned to months, the months turned to years
Too little glory and too many tears

At night we would dance in our dreams to the drunken fairies calling us home
Home, Home, Home, Home, Home

© Bruce T. Holmes 2003 All Rights Reserved