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| Great peril awaits us beyond the Black River Summoned by the beating of drums Our number is few and our errand is dire We do what must be done At the bidding of the high priest The tribes gather for war Evil sorcery is unleashed Upon the opposite shore Make your stand with great hound The frontier is lost Black waters lie before you Together you cross Take heart! Do not fear Though you know Your death nears We shall build you a cairn beyond the Black River Where no one will disturb you rest There you shall lay in your helm and your harness With your sword across your breast Now take a quick moment to answer this question As the ferry approaches the shore Will you have the coin to pay for your passage And the courage to take up the oar? |
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