Days are so dark I can't see it dawning

I can't feel my hands anymore

I see the night and preach them courage

Even when hope is in vain

There's no choice, for strength and honour

Is accompanied by pain

Hunt them down

Back on to the shore

Hunt them down

Where deep waters roar

The human blade of equation will

Divide the fire from the smoke

History will tell who prevailed

Since ever blood sealed the times of old

I call on Taranaich

For to give us strength

The wind blows cold

When night descends

Predicting war

The night unfolds

Fires of marching men

Like an open scar

See the fires burn

Here at Forth-Clyde

Crawling forward

Oh at Forth-Clyde

There in the darkness

At the edge of the world

In the shadow of the empire

The wind blows cold

Calling the words

“Cohorts - Regather...”