I wish I could look into the past
Where my grandfathers grandfather fought for our land
He was a drummer in the army
And marched first of the front line

He was proud in his blue uniform
And on his shoulder there was a clean gun
He followed Hm over seas and through countries
Though the King said
You may get shot and fall dead

Oh ready
They pulled horses and wagons through many landscapes
In mud and clay, in mud and clay

They dreamed about the end
But never of escape
Let the wheels keep on rollin'
We must kill thoose bloody Russians

After a moment, in fire and fog
He got killed by a flying bullet
Through his wardrum
And his soul turned back home
To the old town we called Stockholm

I wish I could look into the past
Where my grandfathers grandfather fought for our land
He was a drummer in the army
And marched first of the front line