One, two, one two.
Line by line,
side by side,
up the steep mountain path
following the piper’s march.
One, two, one, two.
Rock and stone,
wind and rain.
Soon we’ll reach the river,
He doesn’t care if we shiver.
One, two, one, two.
Unable to stop.
Unable to think.
Unable to breathe.
One, two, one, two.
All because the villagers;
our family, our kin;
refused to pay the price
that was owed
to him.