Words and Music: Hyrim de Guillon
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O the Knights of the sword are our ceaseless foe
The tale of their deeds is a long song of woe
They use their religion as excuse for attack
On their proud battle-chargers 'neath their crosses of black.

They have raided and murdered us these many years
We have buried our dead and we've shed bitter tears
They know not what they sowed when they let loose this flood
But all they will reap is a deep sea of blood.

We raise up our swords to the gods of the north
Swear to bloody our steel as the army goes forth
We will burn down their castles in spite of the odds
Let the smoke as it rises feed the wrath of our gods.

We have hidden our soldiers on the valley floor
We have sharpened our swords and are ready for war
The troops on our flanks move to block their retreat
And our shouts fill the air as we surge to our feet.

The Knights of the sword are the best in the fray
They've put ten thousand men into battle array
But the greatest sandcastle will not last 'neath the tides
And we've five times their number as we close from all sides

The battle is over and ours the vict'ry
Hear the wail of the Knights as they flee towards the sea.
Our prince halts pursuit, now content with their plight
But I've my own scores to settle under cover of night.

The paint on my face is the blood of my foe
His bones foul the ground where I laid him low
The flames from his castle scar the sky with their stain
And none of his kith will e're raid again.

I look 'cross the fire to the eyes of my son
And I sing him the tale of the battle we've won
He'll grow old in the peace that our valor has bought
And may the gods show me mercy for the foul deeds I have wrought.

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