Sparks fly hot, my anvil rings with pleasure,
Sparks fly hot, my hammer sings with pride.
A helm for the knight who lives on the heather,
A dagger for the squire riding at his side;
I've made mail for the Baron, gauntlets for the King,
Belts for several ladies so I sing.
Sparks fly hot, my anvil rings with pleasure,
Sparks fly hot, my hammer sings with pride.
I've apprentices and many, incompetence they've shown
But with a firm hand I make the right way known
I've a wife who bears fine children, sons to follow me,
They'll make a fine living in the armory.
Sparks fly hot, my anvil rings with pleasure,
Sparks fly hot, my hammer sings with pride.
When I'm old and my name is known throughout the land
I'll die and be buried, hammer in my hand.
Sparks fly hot, my anvil rings with pleasure,
Sparks fly hot, my hammer sings with pride.