My tight fellow soldiers, prepare for your foes;
Fight away, for the cause of the jolly Red Rose;
Never flinch while you live; should you meet with your death,
There's no fear that you'll run—you'll be quite out of breath.
Then be true to your colours, the Lancasters chose,
And the laurel entwine with the jolly Red Rose.
Chorus. Then be true, &c.
He who follows for honour the drum and the fife,
May perhaps have the luck to get honour for life;
And he who, for money, makes fighting his trade,