Mercenary Song (English)

We're not the children of states, not the soldiers Of crowns. We don't give a damn if you're A count or you bow to icons. We march out on campaign, a halberd in our Hands. The farmer will reap rye, We reap terror in these lands. Blood is everywhere, it seals our contract to you. Paid, then sleep in peace. If not, we're coming for you. Why do we want war? For the jingle of bright coin. What will the country get? A mournful trail of ash behind. We'll go even to hell if they pay us In full. Men don't join our band for a Flag that shakes and pulls. A medal can't be sold, so it isn't worth A groat. Like a desert mirage, All such trinkets come to naught. No name and no glory, but our purse is Brimming still. Beyond good and beyond evil, It'll wash us clean, I will. Understand it, take it in, with no shame upon Your face. The world will soon forget us, And we'll all go down to mud in the Same place. Our oath is a contract, our law is steel Alone. Died for honor like a fool will not Shed a bone. Don't wait for mercy, we're no knights, my brother, No. We'll burn what's on our road with no Moral fence to slow. Here murder isn't sin, it's only craft and trade. If you live, that's victory. Death is easy, lucky laid. On the bones of the beaten, our temple will Be raised. No icons, no excuses, Only gold within its gaze. We'll go even to hell if they pay us Up front. Where our company has passed, No harvest ever comes. What's burned away in fire, you cannot bring it Back. At the bottom of the bottle, Our path is clear and black. We spit on fame and glory so long as The purse stays filled. Come join our war band. Here both motive and purpose are drilled. In taverns, we drink our wine with no shame Upon our face. When the hour comes all the Same, we'll all go down to mud in the Same place. Look, before you stand the war dogs made of Flesh and bone. Don't play at dice with fate, my friend. You'd better pay us gold. What ideals and honor? What is home or flag? If there's gold in your hand, The rest is empty brag. Will civvies suffer? Then such is their destined lot. In war, it's always so. What else did you expect? It naught. Life will pass like battle. If only we could cry stand. Off we go, feet first, behind the chrome with Scythe in hand. We'll go even to hell if they pay us Double pay. Men don't join our band for a Flag that flutters frays. Doubts out the door, it's only price that counts. See the blood and fire, know the dream foretells What come. Good or evil, we just want our Necks to stay unbroken. Hack and thrust, a conscience here is never spoken. If a town is handed over, then plunder it Or burn. You're not here for medals. Don't lie to yourself, learn. And when the earth has hid the body with Its cloak of clay, a comrade in the company Will speak the fallen's name that day. Don't seek gaudy wrapped monuments carved in cold Stone. He'll say, "He was a bastard," And that's how they'll remember us, Everyone. Everyone. Ah.