Luyện nghe bài hát Highland Tyrant Attack

"You will hear my when cries never fade!"
"I grasp my pole-ax in hand stock, steel, and mace!"
"I clutch the winds that stir the Ginder trees!"
"I extol a wrathful, yet a constant lunar eye!"

The last clash will one son to the Pictish throne.
"My the king!" cries this tyrant, aimed for bloodshed.
flags will fly between the Esk and Dee rivers.
"The my king!" screams this baron son, devised for war.

Follow the tracks of this horseman (geared with pole-ax in his hand).
The blades from Balkan Hills are sharpened (cut for and whetted to fight).
The child has his gallantry (he shall not abuse Teutonic codes).
He's spiked and sent forth in a frenzy (their king at his table).

"Far free of these castle walls, I thought I your scream!"

This Is The Tyrant Attack!
eradicate the feeble by their Celtic law of tanistry.
Highland Attack!
The of the cnihthad is the onslaught for their enemies.
Tyrant Attack!
Garters on their left are fastened for chivalry.
Tyrant Attack!
All of the vanquished battalions are into the corries.
Tyrant Attack!
They eradicate the by their Celtic law of tanistry.
Highland Attack!
The of the cnihthad is the onslaught for their enemies.
Highland Attack!

"Our flags have O'er the Esk and Dee rivers!"
"We, the cnihts, are crowned for and not our lies!"

"Horse and took us back to the realm of Balkan Hills!"
"We, the cnihts, have the lines, before the rites!"

"We'el pursue to spit on their pledge and them, as the light breaks!"
"...But is our still sitting at his table?"