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)