You'll walk unscathed through musket fire.
No ploughman's blade will cut thee down.
No cutlass wound will mar thy face...
And you will be my ain true love,
And you will be my ain true love.
And as you walk through death's dark vale
The cannon's thunder can't prevail,
And those who hunt thee down will fail...
And you will be my ain true love,
And you will be my ain true love.
Asleep inside the cannon's mouth,
The captain cries: "Here comes the round."
They'll see to put me North and South,
I've gone to find my ain true love.
The field is cut and bleeds too red.
The cannon balls fly round my head.
The infirm'ry man may count me dead,
But I've gone to find my ain true love...
I've gone to find my ain true love.
Writer(s): Gordon Matthew Sumner
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