On tyrant's land 
Near Gainesboro town 
He sits so still 
Wears no smile nor a frown 
His hair shines black 
As a raven's wing 
And the sound of his pipes 
Make the old trees sing 
(Chorus:) 
Hear, hear the shepherd's song he sings it just for you 
Hear, hear the shepherd's song he sings it just for you 
With crook in hand 
His staff and sling 
He spreads the news 
Of crusades and the king 
His flock around 
On a cold dark night 
And he plays his pipes 
To the fire light Chorus 
His ghost now walks 
That lonely moor 
At dead of night 
When the north winds roar 
And in the season 
When time is ripe 
He'll chill the air 
With the sound of his pipes 
(Chorus)