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Noctes - Attila Lyrics

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  • A noble szejke born and bred
  • Full loftily I held my head
  • Great Attila my sire was he
  • As legend he left to me.
  • A dagger, battleaxe and spear.
  • A heart to whom unkown is fear
  • A potent arm which often has slained
  • The tartar for in fields and plains
  • The scourge of Attila the bold
  • Still hangs amoung us as of old
  • And when this lash we swing on hig
  • Out enemies are forced to fly
  • The szekle proud then learned to know
  • And strived to become his foe
  • For blood of Huns runs in his warm
  • And will know to wield his arm.

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