Highlander scotsman
Kin most feared of all the isle
Many outnumbered
Strike the evil king
Impale his storm of legion
Waring all a day
Battle in their blood
Left to seep the holy ground
Forward to the fray
The walking wounded
Holding one another up
Never letting go
Draw up your weapon
Raise aloud your final song
Leap into glory
Quiet now good son
Be still the angry darkness
-Hermit King-