Luyện nghe bài hát Highland Tyrant Attack

"You will hear my commands when cries fade!"
"I grasp my in hand with stock, steel, and mace!"
"I clutch the soulless that stir the Ginder trees!"
"I extol a wrathful, yet a constant lunar eye!"

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

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

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

This Is The Tyrant Attack!
eradicate the feeble by their Celtic law of tanistry.
Highland Attack!
The rank of the cnihthad is the onslaught for enemies.
Tyrant Attack!
Garters on their left arms are for chivalry.
Tyrant Attack!
All of the vanquished battalions are thrown the corries.
Tyrant Attack!
They the feeble by their Celtic law of tanistry.
Tyrant 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 for tier and not our lies!"

"Horse and Hattock us back 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 still sitting at his table?"