He had white horses
And ladies by the score
All dressed in satin
And waiting by the door

Oooh, what a lucky man he was
White lace and feathers
They made up his bed
A gold covered mattress

On which he was laid
He went to fight wars
For his country and his king
Of his honor and his glory

The people would sing
A bullet had found him
His blood ran as he cried
No money could save him
So he laid down and he died

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, MUSIC SALES CORPORATION
Writer(s): Gregory Lake