And it came to pa** in those leaden days That a plain, poor man got sick of his yoke of condemned soil And a foreign empire's hungry purse Time to replace pitchfork with sword And sound the anthem of sheer rebellion Enough Once too often Enough is enough We strive not for war We just crave to have our home We just seek to have our rights That our fathers used to have But we tasted the grime and blood We tasted the essence of ashes A glowing spark Rising up from blazing flames To lead the forlorn and wroth The epitome of hope and freedom A daring venture A frenetic attempt When Amandus was slain The Bagaudae still sang