Fridericus Rex, our noble King and Lord
He calls every soldier to gather gun and sword
Two hundred tall battalions and a thousand squadron corps
And every single grenadier has sixty shots or more!

"You blighted men" says his regal majesty,
In battle I want every man to stand by me.
Silesia they begrudge me and for Glatz they do the same
And they envy all the gold that lies within my royal name.

The Empress has wed, with the French she does consult,
And the Holy Roman Reich is uprising in revolt!
The Russians have invaded, they are storming near and far
Let's show what kind of fighting men the Prussian soldiers are!

My general Schwerin and my Fieldmarshall Von Keith
And my Major General Von Ziethen are ready for the fight!
Bolts, thunder, crash, and lightning bloody hell and horrid woe!
Our triumphs go before us so that all the world may know!

Goodbye, my Luise, will you wipe away those tears?
Your man is a soldier who marches without fears!
If every single bullet were to go and hit its mark
Then where would every regent get their soldiers proud and stark?

The musket ball makes a very tiny hole
The cannon ball makes an even bigger hole!
The bullets are of iron and are cast of molten lead!
And many straying bullets have missed many straying heads!

Our cannons roar, they're a force that can contend
And a Prussian soldier's loyalty, is faithful to the end!
The Swedes in the north have the awfullest of field
And anything in Austria can nothing better yield!

The French pay their soldiers with bottles of pomade
In Prussia every soldier is always promptly paid!
Bolts, thunder, crash, and lightning bloody hell and horrid woe!
Who gets their pay as quickly from the Prussian overflow?

Fridericus, my King, the laurel wreath adorns
And every single soldier his loyalty has sworn!
Fridericus Rex, my king and lord
We'd follow you to hell if only you would give the word!