On tyrant's land
Near Gainesboro town
He sits so still

Wears no smile nor a frown

His hair shines black

As a raven's wing
And the sound of his pipes
Make the old trees sing


(Chorus:)
Hear, hear the shepherd's song he sings it just for you

Hear, hear the shepherd's song he sings it just for you

With crook in hand

His staff and sling
He spreads the news


Of crusades and the king

His flock around

On a cold dark night
And he plays his pipes
To the fire light


Chorus


His ghost now walks
That lonely moor
At dead of night

When the north winds roar

And in the season

When time is ripe
He'll chill the air
With the sound of his pipes


(Chorus)