On the top of the Falconhill...   I was standing surrounded by solitude   Evening breeze as my only friend   It was a beautiful dusk of November   Darkness wrapping around the hills where paths end      To my eyes reflected a distant fire   A fire from far away   A sign our enemy is approaching   From the land beyond the bay      Beyond the mist covered forest on the river I saw   Three dozen ships with crosses on sails   Soon everywhere burnt fires   Mine among the others   From the village a horde was marching   Till death or fame!      To my eyes reflected a distant fire   A fire from far away   A sign our enemy is approaching   From the land beyond the bay      By the time the sun was about to rise above the skyline   The army of the cross and heathen hordes collided   By the time the sun was lurking high behind a cloud   Only the heathen swords were held against the sky      They were slaughtered and vanished for now   But they will return to spread their word and kill   It was a god-against-god-battle I saw   On the top of the Falconhill