Ancient Rites - Mother Europe Lyrics
Mother Europe Lyrics
The cradle of Europe where it all beganOr the Portuguese and Spanish ArmadaOverwhelming Thy power, a tribute to the southBruges, Antwerp, Ghent forever in my heartRepresenting medieval Flemish prideBrave Teutonic, French and English knightsThy shining armour now long vanishedThy glory, however, forever remainsPraised be the Scandinavian hordesOnce the nightmare of the Christian worldI talk of not of mercyI talk not of fearThe hopeless warriors of a Willing DoomChildren of ItaliaIn ancient times "Roma Caput Mundi"De Verenigde Nederlanden, parel van het noordenBelgium and The Netherlands stood as oneMother Europe born from your wombMother Europe on Your soil shall be my tombI talk of not of mercyI talk not of fearThe hopeless warriors of a Willing DoomOh what that gallant spirit shall resumeLeap from Europe's bank and call Thee from the tomb(Hail to the sons of eastern Europethe Slavonian soul never fades)Blessed are Scotland, Ireland and BretagneWhere the Celtic dream still lives onShall be my tomb!
Ancient Rites Mother Europe
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