Kredity
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Absu
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Michael Brandon Kelly
Composer
Russley Randel Givens
Songwriter
Texty
We are three high kings in honor
And we are the midst of Dagda's spell
We are three armored forces and
We are the gold-torqued leaders
Three wild horsemen
Three fearless in combat
Three gold-crowned conjurers of clash, yet
Three clannish chiefs from the Kingdom of Túath Mide
The leading, foremost tyrant
The subsequent tormentor
And past intimidator of Cythraul
Are impending
Has there ever been a better idol than Dagda?
Will there ever be a better icon than myself?
In the eyes of myself, I fervently speak
The trio goes out at dawn
Fiercely, we plan to fight our assailants
Three of us versus three thousand complete
In the eyes of myself, I adroitly scream
We will arrive at the Stone of Destiny (Tara!)
We will reach the perdition of Ibid (Cythraul!)
Invincible we are to their spears
Intrepidly we occupy our posts
A forecast of destiny now
Invisible they are to their hands
Insolently they amuse their own pride
Interchangeability, interchangeability
With the sway of myself, weather means disaster
I affirm each day for the men of the brave...
With the sway of myself, weather means disaster
I affirm each day for the men of the brave...
As our swords of steel, their mead, and courage are fused
Is it not the throne for our Master of the Gulch?
On its trim are rings of pearls, polished
One seat remains near the jaded citadel!
The plains of adoration do lie somewhere below Tara, way below Tara, as a matter of fact
Sometimes give as Moyslaught and as always, Crom Cruach is welcomed
With the sway of myself, weather means disaster
I affirm each day for the men of the brave...
The notorious Klan stands by the ramparts at Tara where all enemies are approaching
Being bound by a geis, the three have no choice but to stand against the feeble units
Enveloping in an opaque mist, they suddenly find themselves in a magical place where they are received by the deity Manannán and a courtly witch
Finally, they begin to walk up the steep grassland of Tara, with wand and sword, which enables them to distinguish the truth from the...
Lies!
It is the chair for our Master of the Tor
It is embellished with bullion, marked
It remains on top of the lofty mound
It streams gray and silver lining
It will be an accolade given to us
That is, by the third of the last king
Written by: Michael Brandon Kelly, Russley Randel Givens
