Corb Lund
A Leader on Losing Control
Well, I tried my best to stop them, yes I tried to make them wait
And I appealed to their decency, show mercy on this day
I issued them strong orders, on pain of death and disarray
But in the end they would not listen, raised their lances anyway
Men of no account they were, their breeding crude and low
With not a trace of wisdom, grace or virtue in their souls
Yet train them long and hard I did to bend them to the crown
To act as tools of justice, follow edict handed down
But you see these are not militiamen, a-fighting for their homes
Nor fathers, son nor husbands, sire, but foreigners on loan
Yet mercenary killers, career soldiers to a man
Lashing out with vengeance one cannot accept or understand
Well I could not instill the discipline 'twas duty to inspire
And they responded in the end to instincts of the basest kind
Now on my knee before you, here I drop my eyes in shame
Albeit little consolation, take my head for one to blame
Ooh, so spoke the leader on losing control