Oh, see the free -foot host of men
Who spit with faces of one
From Ponstad and from Fisher's Cut
They come with vengeance in their eyes,
too late, too late are they
For young Roddy McCauley goes to die
on the bridge of doom today
Up the narrow street he stepped,
About the hem broke on his neck,
the golden ring had slung
There is never a tear in his blue eyes,
both glad and bright were they
As Shambhali Makkoli goes to die
on the bridge of doom today
When he last stepped up that street,
Behind him marched in brim o 'eray
For ancient town, for ancient town,
And Gyanvadi Makkoli goes to die
On the bridge of doom today
There is never a one of all you dead
Who bravely fell and frayed
Than he who marches to his fate
on the bridge of doom today
True to the last, true to the last,
he treads the awkward way
As young Roddy McCauley goes to die
on the bridge of doom today
As Young Roddy Macaulay goes to die
On the bridge of doom today