Blood red from who we slaughter.
The earth reflects her colour in your eye.
Beauty is born in thy daughter.
Our sons keep our honour high.
The land bears her reward,
scarred in her vanity.
Thrusting a warrior's sword,
through what we declare sanity.
Sing sirens, lead astray…
our boat, on deaths way.
Come night and take our sight,
so we must feel… and stop the fight!
For a mere touch and all is right…
Die now eternal grudge,
for what is blind… on sight cannot judge.