Lyrics:

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
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 firelight
Hear, hear the shepherd's song
He sings it just for you
Hear, hear the shepherd's song
He sings it just for you
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
Hear, hear the shepherd's song
He sings it just for you
Hear, hear the shepherd's song
He sings it just for you

Hear, hear the shepherd's song
He sings it just for you
Hear, hear the shepherd's song
He sings it just for you
Hear, hear the shepherd's song
He sings it just for you
Hear, hear the shepherd's song
He sings it just for you
Hear, hear the shepherd's song
He sings it just for you