Across the northern seas, we travel The cold freezing winds will arouse us Spells from a woman have sent us to the seas of avagon Transformed by our mother, we are I am CuChulainn, the warrior of Ulster Well search the lands to discover the Tir Na Nog The sea god guides our ship to Ireland The storms push us to the palace of Visnech Our swords with fire are rising Our axes with fire have risen The call from the silver horn to Visnech splits the air Warriors answered the horn behind the western lands Hoofs and steel hammered past the cries beyond the thorned hills Acknowledging the commands from the king Our play lies north to the path of Nite And brings us upon the fortress walls where battles raged Raise the magick hammer of Mjollnir Your underworld of Annwvyn draws us through Emer, thy lucious woman, I shall sleep with you I kiss the naked skin of white I lust your black hair, my woman divine I see a holocaust in your eyes You are my princess of live You are my princess of life Feis Mor Tir Na NOg In the land of Visnech, the darkness never sinks away All will fall upon the southern steel, yet behind the burning fires Now, we bathe at the bleeding coast While women laugh with the Gailant knights How sad is it to see my fathers fallen halls? Can I feel the pure blast from the frigid winds? I awake the gods Epona, Cernunnos, and Lugh Yes, Im CuChulainn, warrior fo Ulster In order to worship with fire and sword The storms shall force us to the palace of Visnech Cold, cold, how cold are the plains of Lugh? You should ask thy Emer to reply Weve finally found the last paradise It remains in the light of Tir Na NOg With the hand of Ler, Irish Sea god We shall complete our long excursion
visnech, tir, nog, emer, cuchulainn