I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for d**h. I hear him leading his horse out of the stall;
I hear the clatter on the barn-floor
He is in haste;
He has business in Cuba
Business in the Balkans
Many calls to make this morning
But I will not hold the bridle while he cinches the girth
And he may mount by himself:
I will not give him a leg up
Though he flicks my shoulders with his whip
I will not tell him which way the fox ran
With his hoof on my breast
I will not tell him where the black boy hides in the swamp
I shall die
But that is all that I shall do for d**h;
I am not on his payroll
I will not tell him the whereabout of my friends nor of my enemies either
Though he promises me much
I will not map him the route to any man's door
Am I a spy in the land of the living
That I should deliver men to d**h?
Brother, the pa**word and the plans of our city are safe with me;
Never through me shall you be overcome