| Defending the realm against the hordes
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| Born from tales and ancient lore
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| Defying the tide with pitch black blade
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| Out of the mists a brave one came
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| By his command our soldiers charged
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| Hurling themselves at the enemy’s heart
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| Across the sacred moors they flowed
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| Taking the shape of the trident of old
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| (Taking the shape of the trident of old)
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| Leading his men into the maws of death
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| He himself was head of the attack
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| Behind him, the living trident roared
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| Born from tales and ancient lore
 | 
| Born from tales and ancient lore
 | 
| Born from tales and ancient lore
 | 
| (And ancient lore, and ancient lore)
 | 
| Defending the realm against the hordes
 | 
| Born from tales and ancient lore
 | 
| Defying the tide with pitch black blade
 | 
| Out of the mists a brave one came
 | 
| No dread left of maiming his own men
 | 
| When the last of the cimbric soldiers fell
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| No reason to hold back the boiling rage
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| Leaving battered bodies in his wake
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| Wielding his blackened serpent sword
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| Radiating a sacred force
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| Mowing down waves of savage Picts
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| Burning green fire from within
 | 
| (Burning green fire from within)
 | 
| Burning green fire from within
 | 
| (Fire from within, fire from within)
 | 
| Defending the realm against the hordes
 | 
| Born from tales and ancient lore
 | 
| Defying the tide with pitch black blade
 | 
| Out of the mists a brave one came
 | 
| Bearing the serpent mark of old
 | 
| Out of the war a legend rose
 | 
| Ending the hordes with a final blow
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| Into the mists the brave one strode
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| One strong rock to break the tide
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| Committing the ultimate sacrifice
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| Only his shattered helm remains
 | 
| We pray for his return one day |