Celtic Song

Child of mine, take this sword And protect those that you adore Swords, and arrows, cut to the core Adventure is not from the floor The pub is not the real battleground Charge, demand take the town Tighten up your bow young one You are not the chosen one Die alone with everyone you love Your houses are burned to the ground No one is left around Your family Your son Your daughter too Are all corpses Along with you Tighten up your bow young one You are not the chosen one Die alone with everyone you love Goblins come from the depths of their graves Zombies rise and take their name The monsters of night, of light, of spite Will crash the party tonight Rise your sword from your own grave Take back the family name You must fight You must die Your not a peasant boy