Why come ye hither, Redcoats, your mind what madness fills?
In our valleys there is danger, and there's danger on our hills
Oh, hear ye not the singing of the bugle wild and free?
And soon you'll know the ringing of the rifle from the tree

Oh, the rifle, oh, the rifle
In our hands will prove no trifle
Oh, the rifle, oh, the rifle
In our hands will prove no trifle

Tell he who stays at home, or cross the briny waters
That thither ye must come like bullocks to thе slaughter
When you'll meet our Mountain Boys and their lеader Johnny Stark
Lads who make but little noise, but who always hit the mark

Oh, the rifle, oh, the rifle
In our hands will prove no trifle
Oh, the rifle, oh, the rifle
In our hands will prove no trifle

Ye ride a goodly steed, ye may know another master;
Ye forward came with speed, but you'll learn to back much faster
If we the work must do, why, the sooner 'tis begun
If flint and trigger hold but true, the sooner 'twill be done

Oh, the rifle, oh, the rifle
In our hands will prove no trifle
Oh, the rifle, oh, the rifle
In our hands will prove no trifle
Oh, the rifle, oh, the rifle
In our hands will prove no trifle
Oh, the rifle, oh, the rifle
In our hands will prove no trifle