Work-a-day Warriors/Le Tambour
LE TAMBOUR
As I rode through the town of Aire,Up the long street did comeA little lad who lustilyDid beat a little drum,Did bang a brazen cymbalAnd beat upon a drum.
His father died at Verdun,His mother weeps in Aire;The little lad drums undismayed,How should he know or careThat each tuck makes her tears to start—That he beats tattoo on her heart?