When the night is dark and I'm all wound up,
I will march out to the hills;
With my red coat on and my sharp sword on,
I will demonstrate my skills.
In my toy chest I await the first blast
Of the trumpet that's high on the hill;
Then I'll march on to a castle of stone,
While the toys all around me are still.
With my gold striped pants and my black fur hat,
I'll protect John while he sleeps;
Shadows quickly flee upon seeing me,
And the night around me creeps.
One by one they stall all around me fall,
Their springs have wound way down;
In the clear moonlight it is quite a sight,
Soldiers lying on the ground.
No one speaks to me as there's no one here,
I'm the last soldier in the land;
With my spring wound tight I will stay the night,
And will maintain my command.