---

We contend for ‘his demesne

By sword, bodkin ‘ll slay

Nor forhense chicane

Behoof ‘heir assay

Me, Your lead

with strength and steel

winning is my dream

My Soul

still as stone

grit in my core

Ye nigh ambuscade

Nay wise savage

Withal silly cannonade

Coax ‘em peregrinate

Me, Your lead

with strength and steel

winning is my dream

My Soul

still as stone

grit in my core

Ya, Feudborne

thus bound sore

cleanse this gore

array will bore

No weeping moor

For spines and thorn

to them afore

as Thy old Yore

Me, Your lead

with strength and steel...

You, my brave

like seastorm and waves

our is this fate

Your Fear

to my heart so near

wipe now your tears

Ya, Feudborne

thus bound sore

cleanse this gore

array will bore

No weeping moor

For spines and thorn

to them afore

as Thy old Yore