Luyện nghe bài hát Highland Tyrant Attack

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

The clash will crown one son to the Pictish throne.
"My father's the king!" cries this tyrant, for bloodshed.
Three will fly between the Esk and Dee rivers.
"The my king!" screams this baron son, devised for war.

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

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

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

"Our have soared 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 king sitting at his table?"