Sung on the winds, praised in legend and tale
Uncountless the battles the cities that fell
Our lives warped by combat, no wars left to fight
Exiled...no logner we march in the name of the
Cross o'er our colours - Know we had no choice
Outcasted, now outlaws...we run
King and Cross, our honour lost. Oh Lord...remember us
Come now the hunters, for we are their prey
Both cause and allegiance, now in the fray
Queued for the gallows, we wait the morn sun
Unsure of our crimes, stripped of sabre and gun
Boast not your conquests nor write down brave words
But heed the Centurion's plight