The sound of hoof beats 'cross the glade / Good folk, lock up your son and daughter Beware the deadly flashing blade / Unless you want to end up shorter Black Adder, Black Adder, he rides a pitch black steed Black Adder, Black Adder, he's very bad indeed Black: his gloves of finest mole / Black: his codpiece made of metal His horse is blacker than a vole / His pot is blacker than his kettle Black Adder, Black Adder, with many a cunning plan Black Adder, Black Adder, you horrid little man.
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