They stood on the rocky Irish coast, and watched the sea with wary eyes.
The first man to see the dragon prow takes horse, and warning cries.
The King of the Irish standing tall, calls warriors to his side,
"The Northman who first sets foot ashore, will be the first who dies!"
The Northmen swarmed from the dragon ships rich in steel, and their banners bright.
The Irishmen formed around their King, and, singing, they went to fight.
The plain was red as the rising sun, both sides' blood stained the ground.
The Irish fought for their land and King, and pulled the Raven down./p>
But Northern hearts do not fear the blade, their victory lost but still they stand.
They call on the gods of the warrior north and die on the Irish land.
But even the Northmen finally turn, the dragons run to sea.
The King of the Irish, standing still, has won his victory.
With hair as red as the setting sun, Brian Boru tells warriors brave,
"I live and the way to the Irish crown leads only to the grave.
Whoever may come across the sea will find the Irish spear
Held by men unafraid to die who'll teach them how to fear."