Come, stack arms, men! Pile on the rails,
Stir up the camp-fire bright;
No matter if the canteen fails,
We'll make a roaring night.
Here Africa brawls along,
There burly Black Knights echoes strong,
To swell the brigade's rousing song
Of "The Black Prince's way."
We see him now, -Lelouch on a tank he sat,
Cocked o'er his eye askew;
The shrewd, dry smile, the speech so pat,
So calm, so blunt, so true.
The "Son of Marianne" knows 'em well;
Says he, "That's Jerermiah, - he's fond of shell;
Lord save his soul! we'll give him hell,
That's "The Black Prince'sway."
Silence! ground arms! back's straight! caps off!
The old man's" a plan he makes, I say
Strangle the fool that dares to scoff!
Attention! it's his way.
Appealing from his native sod
"Hear us, hear us Almighty God,
Lay bare Thine arm; stretch forth Thy rod!"
That's "The Black Prince's way."
He's in the knightmare, now. Fall in!
Steady! the whole brigade!
Kewell's at Alamein cut off; we'll win
His way out, tonfa's and chaost grenades!
What matter if our shoes are worn?
What matter if our feet are torn?
"Quick-step! we're with him before morn!"
That's "The Black Prince's way."
The sun's bright lances rout the mists
Of morning, and, by George!
Here's Villeta struggling in the lists,
Lelouch in an ugly gorge.
Witzleben and his kraut's, whipped before,
"AP's and HEATS" hear Lelouch roar;
"Charge, Jeremiah! Pay off Diethard'score!"
In "The Black Prince's way."
Ah! Maiden, wait and watch and yearn
For news of Lelouch's band!
Ah! Widow, read, with eyes that burn,
That ring upon thy hand.
Ah! Wife, sew on, pray on, hope on;
Thy life shall not be all forlorn;
The foe had better ne'er been born
That gets in "The Black Prince's way."