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Breitenfeld

The problem with close contact sports is the danger of physical attraction with the hairless svelte beauty with whom you are grappling.

I'd never learned about Alexander
I never knew what Marius says
I never read about the Revelations
Or the Knights that fought the first crusade

I fell in love with a monk in armour
The sweet fist of the catholic lay
Took out my sword and the scarlet amour
From the trunk where they were packed away

I didn't march for the Romans' splendour
I didn't follow for a penny a day
I didn't fall for the strumpet Glory
But to march behind him all the way

We marched south through the ragged country
And as we marched south through the mud and the rain
I kept my eyes on the distant standard
That he bore throughout the long campaign

We fought round to the clash of armour
And when we had to fight without provision and pay
We cut them down 'til the sole survivors
Watched the river Elbe wash the bodies away

In taking stock of the situation
It took all my nerve not to throw it away
I travelled on as the Primal Oeuvre
Made me march behind him all the way

He'll be rounding the horn in the morning and I'll come following by
With the smoke of the campfires borne on a wasting wind
To batter and blind the skies
And the powder and corn we burnt in passing left
Blackened and useless to lie

Put up your sword drop your scarlet painted armour now
What endeavour won't bring the Lord will not provide

I had to fight with my Christian conscience
I had to fight it every step of the way
I had to fight through the rival armies
Just to march behind him all the way

We found him smashed where his horse had foundered
In the mud and offal on his belly he lay
We dragged him off under cover of darkness
Then we quit the field and ran away

We rode west through the heat and confusion
And as he spewed blood through the visions and shame
I cast aside all my fine illusions
And was never the half a fool again

Chords:
Intro. A
Verse A D A E A D E A
Instr. Bm C#m Bm A Bm C#m
Chorus D A E