Before the cruel war was on, I was so strong
Now I am gaunt and drawn, now I am dying
And now the cruel war is on, she brings me a son
And I know some foreign one has been with her, lying
I know by his cradle cry, I know by his whine
I know by the black of his eye, he's no son of mine
Now the cruel war is on, I must be ready
Though there's no warlike bone in all my body
Though there's no warlike bone in all my body
Now the cruel war is on, I must be ready
Be ready, be ready, I must be ready
Now the cruel war is on, I must be ready
But how can I fell my foe with only an unstrung bow?
How can the war be won as long as my blade's unswung?
I'll give you the grip of my hand, I'll give you my word
He will come to his end on the end of your sword
I'll give you my grip and word, you will be ready
I'll give you my grip and word, you will be ready