It was in the early morning sir, Prince Rupert and his 
bloody
cavaliers came like a whirlwind,
swirling and screaming out of the mist of the old 
river. 

They fell upon us sir. 

My own regiment the Redcoats of Colonel Holles suffered 
the heaviest losses.
We began to fall back to the town of Brentford sir,
and when Brooke's regiment saw our faces and our 
losses, well,
they began to retreat also. Ah! who could blame them? 

Captain Lilburne, well, he rode after us all, he 
grabbed our colours sir,
and bid all those with weak hearts to march back to 
London,
but calling on those with the spirits of men and the 
gallantry of soldiers
to follow him back to Brentford. 

We turned and followed him as a man sir, for five or 
six hours
without powder, match or bullet we disputed the town. 

We hid in hedges and behind walls, 700 of us fought 
many times our number.
Those who weren't shot sir, they just drowned in the 
river,
and as I write to you sir, Captain Lilburne, the prize 
prisoner, 
sits chained as a beast in Oxford Castle.