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Black Thunder clouds
On the western side flow
Foreigners approach on their horses
With raised swords in their hands

I climbed a hill
At the very top of the hill
I saw the village folk
Crying bitter tears

I saddled my grizzled steed
And took my sword
I took my sword
And went to protect my land

Far away across the river
The thunder rumbled
God rode upon a golden steed
Gathering up the souls

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