One word from far away
and I could wait a hundred years.
I've heard in drunken tales
the fallen mourned, but not your name.
And so I'll cut my hair
and march away to join the guns
a searching for my love
with borrowed boots
... and Breton drum

Shei, hae, sheaa, nay
silon ghor de, cre'anon
gaiv renaise, mourna

A thousand miles with the drum
a searching every face and uniform
Would you do what I've done?
And follow
... the Breton drum

I dreamed you lay
In fields of green
Reaching for an unforgiving sun
From east to west and in between
I'll follow
... the Breton drum