The Mongol

I am just a mongol and my story's often told,
How I swept down from the Gobi
With a quiver full of arrows and a recurve bow
Held in my hand
And leaving fire and slaughter as I rode across the land.

When I left my home in Mongolia I was no more than a boy
In the midst of my sword brothers
In the quiet of the Gobi desert riding hard
Through the night
Cause a man does what he's got to do if he's going to fight
And put his scattered enemies to flight.

Seeking only warrior's wages I come fighting for your loot
But I'll take no prisoners
And I'll carry off your women on my pony's back.
I do proclaim that each one seems quite special
Though I can't recall her name.

Now I'm counting out my booty and I dream of going home
Going home
But the gobi's just a desert full of empty sand
Pretty bland at home
At home

In the square they're playing polo, it's an interesting game
And the ball bears the reminder
Of every blow that swung down low and cuts it til we cry out
In out, in our anger and our pain
"Oh, this head's far too mushy,
It's a double header game!"

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