| Ua Ruaire you bastard, Ua Conchobhair you fool
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| In the name of Mac Murchadha do I rule
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| With Grey Foreigners at my command
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| All Éire will quake, the Kings wake
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| To the burning of their Dúns
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| The waiting of their women
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| The crying of their children
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| And the death-moan of their men
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| As their souls leak from their rotting corpses
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| To whatever Gods do they believe in
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| Did you really think, oh mighty Ard Righ
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| That I would send my warriors home
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| And once more groan under your yoke?
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| You misguided fool, soon we’ll do the battle
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| At my command
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| All Éire will quake, the Kings wake
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| To the burning of their Dúns
|
| The waiting of their women
|
| The crying of their children
|
| And the death-moan of their men
|
| As their souls leak from their rotting corpses
|
| To whatever Gods do they believe in
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| Waiting for my time to come
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| Hoping that my plans be not undone
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| For my time it be at hand
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| To finally reclaim my land
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| Horror, the Ard Righ still has my son
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| Despair, he would not dare to kill my son
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| Hostage, so I could return to my land
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| Ochone, my scheme undone by death’s hand
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| Waiting for my time to come
|
| Hoping that my plans be not undone
|
| For my time it be at hand
|
| To finally reclaim my land
|
| Horror, the Ard Righ still has my son
|
| Despair, he would not dare to kill my son
|
| Hostage, so I could return to my land
|
| Ochone, my scheme undone by death’s hand |