Among Beggars and Thieves

The memory lingers on of the arrival of dawn. They saw the beacon aflame, Burning with sorrow for the lives that would be lost. And the troops went ashore, Sounds of drums filled the air. Towards the city they marched. Called all the young ones, call

It's the darkened years, Superstition's flying high. There is pain, there is fear In the poverty's sigh. Preachers on a frightening spree, Of demons and hell's fire. Warnings of the devil's decree In all sinful desires. A boy have just arrived, An or

En man han tjänt herr lagers gård I sommar, vinter år för år. Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig? För slit och släp under himmel grå Han blott sitt bröd som löning får. Säg mig, vem sörjer nu för dig? Så kommer hastigt budet in: - Vår herre lägrar dotra