Lyric

Thirty pounds of iron, a heavy cross upon my chest

Shivering in the channel, putting glory to the test

I’ve got the silver spurs, I’ve got the fallen family name

But this French mud doesn’t care about the rules of the game

My armor’s catching rust, the king is out of gold

And the knightly tales I read are just lies that I was told

He’s chewing on the rations, spitting out the creeping bugs

Stealing from the dying, hanging with the trench thugs

He calls me 'My Lord' with a cynical sneer and a spit

We're freezing in the rain, and he doesn’t give a shit

He’s a bastard of the dirt, a rat without a crown

But when the arrows fall, he’s the only one who sticks around

Mud and silver, blood on the rust!

Two English boys choking on the foreign dust!

One wants the glory, one wants the stolen bread

But we’ll both be drinking rain when we’re sleeping with the dead!

Yeah, we’re sleeping with the dead!

General Talbot swings the axe, the discipline is grim

I want to be the hero, but I’m terrified of him

My squire shakes his head, strips the boots off of a corpse

Says "Honor doesn't feed you when you’re eaten by the dogs!"

Mud and silver, blood on the rust!

Two English boys choking on the foreign dust!

One wants the glory, one wants the stolen bread

But we’ll both be drinking rain when we’re sleeping with the dead!

[Guitar Solo]

No holy saints to save us, no chivalry tonight

Just a rusty bloody broadsword and a dirty street fight

He watches my back, I pay for his whores

The noble and the peasant in the hundred-year wars!

Mud and silver! (Mud and silver!)

Blood on the rust! (Blood on the rust!)

God left Flanders, in the devil we trust!

Yeah, we're sleeping with the dead!

Sleeping with the dead!