Sons Of The Gun

There's a myth of beyond the woods
The Mirkwood goblins sing with flutes
They light up fires between the trees
And then all evil they release
Down the Norway fjords in the blue mud fens
Four sons of a gun hang from the chapel's bells
Yet no man alive has ever heard their names
But the Mirkwood bloody goblins know all the tales
It goes from the Bastard with the ace of spades
To the Berserk from the Heath with the crooked face
Little boy Georgie got the evil ways
And Saint John's Beast doesn't play no games
You don't wanna know
That if you're left alone
You will be playing with fire
For the sons of the Gun will appear
Before you howling curses
from the deepest depth of Hell
So you better leave at sunrise
Or just fall inside the well
Take a deep breath bleeder please don't cry
Them sons will be dancing on your grave tonight
And the sun will never ever shine for you
You don't wanna learn
That it's your turn
For the sons of the Gun
To haunt your dreams again
From Dan to Beersheba and from dusk till dawn
The sons of the Gun used to sing this song
So now the time has come for you to be gone
For once and for all
The time has come
You better run
Cause you know they'll get you
The Sons of the Gun