I see crimson, I see red
I see the faces of the dead
I see crimson, I see red
Behold the fields painted red
(Chorus)
Fair of deeds the man I see
In his brow the hero's light
His face the seat of Victory
Wounded sore is his fair skin
Naked are the spears he bears
And a red cloak round he hooks
(Chorus)
Noblest face is his I see
Young the lad and fresh his hue
With a dragon's form in fight
I know not who is the Hound
But I know full well this host
Will be smitten red by him
Rapacious lion The doom of foes
Vanquisher of multitudes
Mangler of great hosts,
Hand that dispenseth treasures
And the flaming torch
If Cuchulain, Cualnge's Hound
And Red Branch chiefs on
you come Men will welter in
their blood Laying waste Murthemne's plain More than
this I've naught to say
And as concerns Erin's Host
My belief, in troth is this
Ye will now meet with your fate
(Chorus)
Four small swords a brilliant feat
These he'll ply upon the host
Each to do its special
deed His great Gae Bulga too
he wields Lo the man in red
cloak girt Sets foot on every hill
(Chorus)

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.