Tekster:
Cruachan Pagan

not by words. Sound the horns of Pagan triumph, And sweep away this fictional rectitude. Burn the church to the ground, Let our Pagan hate exude. And

As I look out across the sea I stand proud but am I free? A thousand years have come and gone I have won, I will go on Stand firm against the storm I

[Instrumental]

I am the wind that blows over the sea I am the wave of the ocean I am the murmur of the billows I am the ox of the seven combats I am a vulture on the

A scourge on the world from the earliest days Christ, his church and his sinister ways Starter of wars, Instigator of crimes Despoiler of cultures, Destroyer

Some say the devil is dead, the devil is dead, the devil is dead Some say the devil is dead, and buried in Killarney More say he rose again, more say

I hear you calling Your voice so fair I reach out to touch you But know you're not there The summer is ending Clouds darken the sky As the rain starts

I watch the sky turning black And know the time is fast approaching My clan they all look to me I turn away, I face the ocean In the dark I see a fleet