Can you hear the drummers drumming, lad?
It is news of war they bring.
Your father's gone to join the men
who are marching with the King.
The soldiers want our muskets
the officers my glass
they've borrowed both the silver cups
the pewter and some brass.
Can you hear the drummers drumming, girl?
There's and army come to town.
They've snatched away your brother
to fight against the Crown.
They've commandeered the horses
our cow and six prime sheep.
They've even stolen featherbeds
so there's no soft place to sleep.
The drums are always drumming.
They keep pounding in my head.
I hear the wounded screaming
and can smell the rotting dead.
What have they done to England
with their shouts for Rights and Laws?
The King against the Parliament
each fighting for their Cause.
Can you hear the drummers drumming?
There is fighting all around.
The cannons roar for Parliament
and the King is losing ground.
They've killed my own dear husband
and maimed my bonny son.
My daughter's mind is broken
since they raped her - one by one.
I can't stop the drummers drumming.
I can't stop the soldiers march.
If it's hell they're bent on making
I can only weep and watch.
Before this war our lives were good
Now all is lost....
........I Curse the King
................and a Pox on Parliament.
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