Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier Lyrics - Corb Lund

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 

Well I was with Custer and the 7th in 76 or 77 

Scalped at Little Big Horn by the Sioux 

And the tears and devastation 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 while at his height 

And as a White Guard, as a Red Guard, as the Tsar's own palace horse guard 

When Romanov was murdered in the night 

And I knew Saladin and rode his swift Arabians 

Harassing doomed crusaders on their heavy draughts 

And yet I rode the Percheron against the circling Saracen 

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 was 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 afoot 

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 

And no matter defeat or victory, in battle it occurs to me 

That we may see a swelling in our ranks 

Was 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