I see the enemy advance o'er the plains,
Stand your ground, my men, we kneel no more!
We have the high ground, and our spears, they thirst for Albion's blood,
We will not give one inch, they'll die in Caledonia's mud!

And in the wind's caress, I feel the call of destiny,
Though one day soon, we all may fall;

Today at Stirling, here at last the Piper's paid;
Today at Stirling, they will die by Scottish blade;
We give no quarter, o the river will run red this day;
As their waves break against our ranks, their men will rue the day they came.

The order comes for them to charge, as o'er the field their banners fly;
We'll cut them down at bridge's mouth, as sky cracks with our battle cry;
The fray at last begins as our infantries collide,
Both high-born knights and peasants fall like autumn leaves against our might.

And in the throes of battle, I'll fulfill my destiny;
Today Britannia's tyrants fall!

Today at Stirling, here at last the Piper's paid;
Today at Stirling, they will die by Scottish blade;
We give no quarter, o the river will run red this day;
As their waves break against our ranks, their men will rue the day they came.

We charge full force down the hill, as their front lines turn and run,
But there is no escape, oh, the slaughter's just begun.
They bottleneck as infantry and cavalry alike are slain.
In their own hides I'll sheathe my blade;
I am Britannia's Bane!

Victorious, today I know I've sealed my destiny,
Though one day soon I well may fall!

Today at Stirling, here at last the Piper's paid;
Today at Stirling, they will die by Scottish blade;
We give no quarter, o the river will run red this day;
As their waves break against our ranks, their men will rue the day they came.

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