Inspired in part by the Afghanistan conflict, where American soldiers were sent to fight a regime that America had armed against the communists. The final line of the song seems prophetic now, with the Iraq conflict following hot on the heels of Afghanistan, and Saddam and Osama going into hiding (while George Bush is said to have been AWOL from the reserves during his military "service"). Matt wrote this with his other "Lost Way" acoustic stuff, but it's acoustic-electric leanings destined it for Sleepy Hollow. Originally performed on acoustic guitar, Matt's increasing use of harp at Renaissance faires towards the recording time caused a switch to harp (& dulcimer), while Jennifer from the CORF again added violin. Joe masterminded the battle section (which is all musical instruments). The Lazarus edit starts when the electric guitar kicks in about 3/5 through the song.

Mole - vocals, electric guitar, harp, flute, mandolin, mountain dulcimer
Jennifer Scott (www.jenniferdeannscott.com) - violin
Joe - synthesizers, organ, bass guitar
Gary - drums

Lyrics

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THE SOLDIER'S LAMENT - 5:09

Blood on my hands, of a man I've been told is my foe
Although, not long ago, I knew nothing of his people's ways
And this man, before now, had known none from my land
But was taught by his elders he must hate all those of my kind

In a time not long past, a great empire we feared
With this land in its shadow, in risk of becoming a part
So our king sowed the seeds of dissent in this land
Finding those who sought conflict and selling them weapons of might

They've been told we break laws made by the One God Himself
If he's the One God of all, did he not make this man and I both?
If God's strength knows no bounds, why leave justice to Man?
Could it be that our kings use God's name for their own godless ends?

When a new king arose in this strange foreign land
He made plans to keep his kingdom's wealth in his own nation's bounds
And his people knew joy, in their own nation's health
Until one day a dagger of strange make cut their king's reign short

While the lords sit at home counting gold gained from foreign lands
Squeezed by their agents using methods now outlawed
The poor men of each nation must now be locked in fight
Knowing nought of each other but the sight of his blood

In the fields of the slain, all the blood's formed one pool
From soldiers of both sides who shall never return to their homes
In the towns near the war, even children were killed
While our kings and lords, safe at home, secretly plan the next war