When princes meet
The poor little men must tremble
In judgment seat
They speak of their wars
While great armies assemble
Their armor shines
To shame the sun
They move like gods
They do resemble
All bow their necks
To iron feet when princes meet
When castles rise
The poor little men must build them
To charm the skies
They throw up the turrets
Where the great lords will them
They dig the dungeons
From the earth
And their brothers
Wives and children fill them
All those below cast down
Their eyes when castles rise
God save the king
For he grants us leave to serve him
His praises sing
And grant that we may deserve him
Who counts the cost?
The cattle and men to be lost?
'Tis no small thing to serve a king
When kings make war
The poor little men must fight them
They must do more
They hold out their necks
For great lord's swords to bite them
The sons of the lords cleave
Through their ranks
In the hopes some warrior king
Might knight them
It's what the poor little men are for
When kings make war
Hide your cattle in the woods, Francois
The lord is looking your way
Hide your women and your goods, Francois
They're coming around to make you pay
Hide if you can, poor little man
Think of a prayer to say
Hide if you can, poor little man
Think of a prayer to say
God save the king
For he grants us leave to serve him
His praises sing
And grant that we may deserve him
Who counts the cost?
The cattle and men to be lost?
'Tis no small thing to serve a king
Tom Paxton - When Princes Meet Lyrics
Tom Paxton - When Princes Meet Lyrics
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When princes meet
The poor little men must tremble
In judgment seat
They speak of their wars
While great armies assemble
Their armor shines
To shame the sun
They move like gods
They do resemble
All bow their necks
To iron feet when princes meet
When castles rise
The poor little men must build them
To charm the skies
They throw up the turrets
Where the great lords will them
They dig the dungeons
From the earth
And their brothers
Wives and children fill them
All those below cast down
Their eyes when castles rise
God save the king
For he grants us leave to serve him
His praises sing
And grant that we may deserve him
Who counts the cost?
The cattle and men to be lost?
'Tis no small thing to serve a king
When kings make war
The poor little men must fight them
They must do more
They hold out their necks
For great lord's swords to bite them
The sons of the lords cleave
Through their ranks
In the hopes some warrior king
Might knight them
It's what the poor little men are for
When kings make war
Hide your cattle in the woods, Francois
The lord is looking your way
Hide your women and your goods, Francois
They're coming around to make you pay
Hide if you can, poor little man
Think of a prayer to say
Hide if you can, poor little man
Think of a prayer to say
God save the king
For he grants us leave to serve him
His praises sing
And grant that we may deserve him
Who counts the cost?
The cattle and men to be lost?
'Tis no small thing to serve a king
The poor little men must tremble
In judgment seat
They speak of their wars
While great armies assemble
Their armor shines
To shame the sun
They move like gods
They do resemble
All bow their necks
To iron feet when princes meet
When castles rise
The poor little men must build them
To charm the skies
They throw up the turrets
Where the great lords will them
They dig the dungeons
From the earth
And their brothers
Wives and children fill them
All those below cast down
Their eyes when castles rise
God save the king
For he grants us leave to serve him
His praises sing
And grant that we may deserve him
Who counts the cost?
The cattle and men to be lost?
'Tis no small thing to serve a king
When kings make war
The poor little men must fight them
They must do more
They hold out their necks
For great lord's swords to bite them
The sons of the lords cleave
Through their ranks
In the hopes some warrior king
Might knight them
It's what the poor little men are for
When kings make war
Hide your cattle in the woods, Francois
The lord is looking your way
Hide your women and your goods, Francois
They're coming around to make you pay
Hide if you can, poor little man
Think of a prayer to say
Hide if you can, poor little man
Think of a prayer to say
God save the king
For he grants us leave to serve him
His praises sing
And grant that we may deserve him
Who counts the cost?
The cattle and men to be lost?
'Tis no small thing to serve a king
Writer: THOMAS R PAXTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC