Let hawks clean their bones...

  Eternal Champion - The last king of Pictdom

They know who they've tread upon, and they still meet our battle call. 
Atlantean wolves, they fight, let hawks clean their bones! 

Crossed blades of iron await their faulting weary hordes. 
We've claimed the Highlands, ours by right and ours alone. 
The light is falling, no dawn for Roman dogs.
The last king of Pictdom leads a clan across the moor.

Bring forth those who'd conquer.
Light flames for them to see.
Their heads will hang from my hand.
This reign can never be.

Forced south they're hiding. They have heard our drums of war.
They'd claim the island, but can't take our northern hold.
The light is falling, no dawn for Roman dogs.
The last king of Pictdom leads his clan across the moor!

Bring forth those who'd conquer.
Light flames for them to see.
Their heads will hang from my hand!
This reign can never be.

Cry in the night. The last of them dies and I feel the calm hush in the night.
The silence is broken by wolves of the fight.
Dark turns to light, and the blood of the fools is stained to the stone. Hush in the night...the silence is broken by wolves of the fight.

The know who they've tread upon. And they still meet our battle call.
Atlantean wolves, they fight and let hawks clean their bones!