Lirieke:
Cruachan Blood On The Black Robe

Lirieke

Cruachan. Blood On The Black Robe. Cruachan. Bloed op die Swart kleed.
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readied our swords, I stood poised and readied my spear. As he approached I noticed his staff, And the cross that hung from a chain. Beneath his robe

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Lirieke

Cruachan. Blood on the Black Robe. An Bean Sidhe. Cruachan. Bloed op die swart toga. 'N Bean Sidhe.
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you will hear me cry, I will come to earth and you will die. You cannot escape this terrible fate, Your time has come and the hour is late. In the robes

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Lirieke

Cruachan. Blood on the Black Robe. Blood On The Black Robe. Cruachan. Bloed op die swart toga. Bloed op die Swart kleed.
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we readied our swords, I stood poised and readied my spear. As he approached I noticed his staff, And the cross that hung from a chain. Beneath his robe

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Lirieke

Cruachan. Blood on the Black Robe. I Am Warrior. Cruachan. Bloed op die swart toga. Ek Is Warrior.
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these flaxen men, Who invade my country again and again! I am Warrior, ready to fight! I am Warrior, ready to die! I am Warrior, noble and true! I am Warrior, Ceitheirn Abu? Black

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Lirieke

Cruachan. Blood on the Black Robe. Pagan Hate. Cruachan. Bloed op die swart toga. Heidense haat.
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Fire - Burning - cleaning the lie, The light is burning bright. Pain - Suffer - prepare to die, Behold our unholy fight. Hallowed be our name tonight

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Lirieke

Cruachan. Blood on the Black Robe. Primeval Odium. Cruachan. Bloed op die swart toga. Oerlandschap haat.
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There is a pain inside me A pain as old as earth That has outlived civilizations A primordial anguish so strong So unforgiving in its innocence That

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Lirieke

Cruachan. Blood on the Black Robe. The Nine Year War. Cruachan. Bloed op die swart toga. Die nege jaar oorlog.
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"Come ye Gaelic chiefs and raise your banners high, Let loose your warrior clans and sound the battle cry! The Saxons are advancing, their ambition we

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Lirieke

Cruachan. Blood on the Black Robe. The Column. Cruachan. Bloed op die swart toga. Die kolom.
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Arise, arise, hear th call of the land, To arms, to arms, fight for the foreign threat. Blood, blood, spill our Irish blood, Honour, honour, for freedom

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Lirieke

Cruachan. Blood on the Black Robe. The Voyage Of Bran. Cruachan. Bloed op die swart toga. Die reis van zemelen.
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Bran walked alone to ease his mind, To reflect on life and love. Sweet music he heard come from behind, And from the sky above. So sweet was the tune

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