|
Oh, woe be to the orders |
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That marched my love away |
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And woe be to the bitter tears |
|
I shed upon this day |
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And woe be to the bloody wars |
|
Of high Germany |
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For they've carried off my own true love |
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Left a broken heart to bleed |
|
The drums beat in the morning |
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Before the break of day |
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And the wee, wee pipes played loud and shrill |
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While yet the morn was gray |
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And the bonnie flags were all unfurled |
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Was a gallant sight to see |
|
But sorrow for my soldier lad |
|
Who marched to Germany |
|
Oh, woe be to the orders |
|
That marched my love away |
|
And woe be to the bitter tears |
|
I shed upon this day |
|
And woe be to the country |
|
Where our men are forced to be |
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And woe be to the foreign wars |
|
That stole my love from me |
