Luyện nghe bài hát Highland Tyrant Attack

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

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

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

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

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

"Our flags have soared the Esk and Dee rivers!"
"We, the cnihts, are for tier and not our lies!"

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

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