The Frenchman's Daughter

On a blue moonlit night, near a black salty bay
Came the clatter of hooves down the road from the quay

On a mare rode a man with a snarl on his lips
And upon his thick belt swung a gun from his hips

His breath stank of meat and a slew of sour wines
Which he wore on his shirt in dark blotches and lines

But for this he cared no, just one thought gripped his mind
For tonight he was hunting—his daughter must die

Shining black hair whipped through cold April night
girl, a boy, they flee for their lives
To feel loving warmth from each other’s embrace
They fly from a man filled with hate

The Frenchman gripped tight to the reigns of his steed
As he pictured in mind his abhorred misdeed

Despite drunken haze he knew just where to find
The sailor who’d stolen his girl to call bride

pair of young bodies are lit by the stars
As their hunter appears on the road from afar

Moustaches curl as rank lips twist a grin
And a rifle is lifted from shoulder to chin

In blue April night, just as love seems to shine
Two bullets fly and cut short young lives
Unblinking black eyes stare coldly upon
Dark blood drifting out in the brine

Shining black hair whipped through cold April night
girl, a boy, they flee for their lives
To feel loving warmth from each other’s embrace
They fly from a man filled with hate