The changes from the Minster's spires
Draw soldiers in from encampment fires
To hear the tiding each desires;
"The citadel is free!"
By the light of every soldier's torch
The proclamation from the porch
Gives each his reason for debauch.
The citadel is free.
The streets within the fortress throng.
The air is filled with soldiers' song –
Laments from where their hearts belong.
The citadel is free.
The taverns there to take their gold
Until the wine and ale is sold,
Until the sun relieves the cold,
The citadel is free.
At early light the fortress gate
Is trundled open to await
The column to relieve its fate –
The citadel is free.
But then, without a word or prayer
The garrison becomes aware
The enemy is standing there...
The citadel is free.
Their horses on the street obey
And crush the skulls where still they lay
And with a final short affray,
The citadel is free.
The Bishop's door at midnight groans.
He picks a way amongst the stones,
The silver pieces and the bones.
The citadel is free...