Brave Connor Mac

The Sesair dogs of Tir-nan-og have stalked me to enslaveAnd rampant in the hybrid hills amidst the cattle raidThe Ulstermen will kneel before the heathen path I've pavedAnd bards of mighty Conchobar will offer me to MaeveThrough Sourlands in bloody bands across the north they goBrave Conner Mac his tribes are painted blue from head to toeBut all alone the Infidel did match them blow for blowHis body bent and hair in spikes came flailing to and froThe carnage lingered on, his body split from side to sideThe tendons tore his mighty chest and ripped his leathered hideAcross his back ten Ulstermen were carried from the lakeAnd soon there were ten sundered heads each thrust upon a stakeThe battle-rage had gripped him as he squirmed inside his skinOne eye had popped out of his head the other sucked back inSoon pieces of Brave Conner Mac and friends adorned the groundIt took three tubs of ice to cool his burning body downSetanta of the Sesair was the chosen king by birthThe power he possesses is a gift from mother earthThrough chronicles of time he'll rise again and spread his fameAnd future incarnations will arise to bear his nameThe Sourlands are bitter and the northern tribes are freeIn Tir-nan-og a new abandoned kingdom waits for meThe message of the fallen king is swift across the landTo Ulster where a widowed Queen prepares to take my hand