On the top of the Falconhill...

I was standing surrounded by solitude

Evening breeze as my only friend

It was a beautiful dusk of November

Darkness wrapping around the hills where paths end


To my eyes reflected a distant fire

A fire from far away

A sign our enemy is approaching

From the land beyond the bay


Beyond the mist covered forest on the river I saw

Three dozen ships with crosses on sails

Soon everywhere burnt fires

Mine among the others

From the village a horde was marching

Till death or fame!


To my eyes reflected a distant fire

A fire from far away

A sign our enemy is approaching

From the land beyond the bay


By the time the sun was about to rise above the skyline

The army of the cross and heathen hordes collided

By the time the sun was lurking high behind a cloud

Only the heathen swords were held against the sky


They were slaughtered and vanished for now

But they will return to spread their word and kill

It was a god-against-god-battle I saw

On the top of the Falconhill