| Sixty years have come and gone since Rome did fall
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| Since glory reigned, since Rome was ruled by Romans
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| By invitation of the pope we took it back
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| Not as conquerors, but as their liberators
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| Gloria — Galloping homeward
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| Gloria
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| Gloria — Valiant general
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| He’s charging desperate, shattered
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| Light of light, heart of hearts
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| While he’s gone — there is nowhere that I can call home
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| Light of light, heart of hearts
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| Where he’s gone — there is no guarantee he’ll come back
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| Hearing word that Ostrogothic armies were near
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| Belisarius led his elite guard to see
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| Ambushed from the rear, a foe soon recognized him
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| And told the Ostrogoths, «Fire on the white-faced horse»
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| Light of light, heart of hearts
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| Arrows fall like a torrent of rain from the sky
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| Light of light, heart of hearts
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| Protects him from a single of a myriad of deaths
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| The Roman guards can hear them pleading
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| «Open the gates, it’s Belisarius»
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| Gloria — They don’t recognize him
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| Gloria
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| Gloria — They won’t open the gates
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| And still the Goths are encircling
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| Gloria — The general turns ‘round
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| Gloria
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| Gloria — Dying in glory
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| They faced the Goths in a last charge
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| Light of light, heart of hearts
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| Seeing them charge the Goths with such savage success
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| Light of light, heart of hearts
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| Then they knew, these were allies at least — let them in
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| Most blessed, most high
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| Antonina runs to embrace her husband again |