Prepare the first born child, cleanse the infant's skin,
Wrap the child in linen, let the sacrifice begin.
To the plain of adoration, to our idol covered in gold,
The mighty God Crom Cruach, his power we behold.

Surrounded by a circle, of standing stones so tall,
Crom Cruach reaches to the sky, we hear his ancient call.
Oh old and powerful deity, we are yours to command,
Guide us in our struggles, and bless this ancient land.

We offer you our first born,
This innocent life so pure,
Sacrifice in your name,
So we may long endure.

Bring the blade to the infants neck, slowly cut the skin,
Tear open the veins of life - blood flowing from within.
The child begins to flail, and tries in vain to cry,
The calms and becomes silent, soon the child will die.

At the feet of Crom Cruach, we leave the infant corpse,
A vital sacrifice for our land, we offer no remorse.
We pour the blood on our idol, we smear it on our skin,
We hear the sound of chanting, from our sacred holy men.

We leave the sacred site, as the blood begins to dry,
Returning to our village, under a blood red sky.
A prosperous time awaits us, Crom Cruach is appeased,
No more fear of famine, nor worry of disease.

From across the sea they came,
Fleeing from slavery.
To the blessed shores of Ireland,
Their people to be free!

They sailed for many days,
In seas that raged and swelled.
Many ships traversed the depths,
Full of men who were compelled -

To find a home for their people,
In the land of their forefathers -
The ancient Irish masters.

Five brothers lead the way,
Sailing on the Western squall.
Many dangers they encountered,
And many warriors did fall.

Till at last they did arrive,
In the glorious seas of Ireland.
As they headed for the shore,
One more trial was at hand.

The wind became a storm,
The seas became enraged.
The Fir Bolg ships were scattered,
And many too were razed.

Separated in to three parts,
The Fir Bolg, Domnann and Gaileon -
Finally docked in Ireland,
As the seas began to calm.

They overcame so many trials
As they sailed to their new land.
A new dawn awaits the brothers
A new era is at hand.

At Tara the brothers held council
They divided the land into five parts.
Peace had come to the Fir Bolg
But this peace was not to last.

In his fight against the enemy
Baren fought hard and strong
Against the dark lord Morgoth
And the hellish Morgul throng!

He was forced to flee the battle
When his army was destroyed
The Elven realm of Doriath
That is where he did arrive.

There he saw a female elf, in the woods of Neldoreth,
Such beauty he had never seen.
He called to her "Tinuviel", when they first met they fell in love,
Her father would not be so keen.
"To win my daughter Lúthien, bring me a silmaril",
this was Thingol's quest to Beren.
"I accept this perilous task, I shall journey to Angband,
I sear you will see me again"

He journeyed to Nargothrond, a vast elven stronghold,
Ten warriors joined him on the road to Angband.
'Neath the shadowy mountains and disguised as orcs,
They were observed by Sauron as they crossed his land.

Sauron's forces attacked, they tried hard to resist,
They failed in their struggle and were captured by him.
On the isle of werewolves many died by these beasts,
Beren survived but his chances seemed grim.

He did not know that Lúthien, had secretly been following,
And she came with Calegorm's hound.
The hound killed all the wolves in sight, Beren ran into the night,
And would try his task once more.
Lúthien was by his side, and they came to Morgoth's throne,
A magic spell then made him sleep.
Beren seized the silmaril, Morgoth wakened from his spell,
A giant werewolf then appeared.
It bit and swallowed Beren's hand, the silmaril burned its insides,
It ran off in agony.
The two lovers both escaped, and returned to Doriath,
The tale had softened Thingol's hart.

He allowed their union, though Beren's task was not fulfilled,
Beren left to find the wolf.
And find the wolf is what he did, but the wolf had gone insane,
Beren died but did prevail.
The silmaril had been retrieved, but at great a consequence,
Lúthien and Beren died.
But Lord Mandos did feel grief, restoring mortal life to them,
They would live as one again.

Lift MacCahir Óg your face brooding o'er the old disgrace
That black Fitzwilliam stormed your place, drove you to the Fern
Grey said victory was sure soon as the firebrand he'd secure;
Until he met at Glenmalure with Fiach Mac Hugh O'Byrne.

Curse and swear Lord Kildare
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now Fitzwilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low
Up the halberd out with the sword,
On we'll go for the Lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.

See the swords of Glen Imayle, flashing o'er the English Pale
See all the children of the Gael, beneath O'Byrne's banners
Rooster of a fighting stock, would you let a Saxon cock
Crow out upon an Irish rock, fly up and teach him manners.

From Saggart to Clonmore, there flows a stream of Saxon gore
O, great is Roy Óg O'More, sending the loons to Hades.
White is sick and Lane is fled, now for black Fitzwilliam's head
We'll send it over dripping red, to Queen Liza and the ladies.

A question to you false, deceived fools,
Who venerate nothing but a falsehood,
Why do you perpetuate this lie?
Your blind faith will never be understood.
A hateful concept from its inception,
Born in a sea of blood and terror,
Yet based on many of my traditions,
Perverted, corrupted, and broken.
Listen to my word and understand my way,
I will sanctify, I will have my day! - I am risen!
I am as ancient as the earth itself yet veiled in secrecy,
When I rise - mankind will kneel and worship me.
Listen to my word and understand my may,
I will sanctify, I will have my day! - I am risen!

I tell a tale of a pirate queen,
Grace O'Malley was her name.
Though her deeds and actions on the seas,
She found fortune, respect, and fame.

Born to a seafaring family and educated well,
Salt water in her veins, at sea she would raise hell!
She preyed on trading ships, that entered her domain,
And before the nine years war became the British bane!

When she was but a child, she cut off all her hair,
In defiance of her father who brought her to despair!
"You cannot sail my ships, with hair that is so long".
"But can't you see? All my hair is gone".

She prospered as a Pirate-Queen,
Patrolling our Atlantic cost.
She requited fighting men -
From Scotland and Ireland, a true pirate host.
Targeting traders, and merchant men,
She boarded their ships and demanded her toll,
Those who resisted or tried to fight back,
Tasted her steel or were held in her thrall.

When tribute was paid they were free to go,
Their safe passage was guaranteed.
The pirate horde would flee to the shore,
Disappearing in cloves, her fleet would recede.
Attacks were not limited to sea,
Grace would strike castles on the shore.
O'Loughlin, O'Boyle, and MacSweeney clans,
Fell victim to Grace and her pirate war.

Her career began and prospered at the peak of Gaelic rule,
A loving mother and wife yet a pirate queen so cruel!

Called to meet with England's Queen, she conducted herself well,
They spoke in Latin, reached an accord then they bade farewell.
On her return, Grace did learn, that the meeting was in vein.
Her demands were never met, much to her disdain!

Gaelic rule was in decline but Grace remained defiant,
She assisted in rebellions; she would never be compliant -
And always fought off raids that came close to her lands,
She fought a band from Galway, killing their leader with her hands.

She died a natural death in the same year as England's Queen,
Saxon rule increased, of this Grace had foreseen.
The nine years war was won, English rule was complete,
But Grace she will live on, she never knew defeat!

From Limerick the Vikings came,
To the village of the Dal gCais.
To rape and pillage and to maim,
With Viking sword and Viking axe.

So many lives were lost during this Viking raid,
Brian's father fought heroically but fell to a Viking blade.
A seed of hatred was planted, the promise of vengeance was strong,
"To the northern invaders of Ireland, leave now! You do not belong".

Brian's brothers were not convinced,
They sued for peace at any cost -
And formed a pact with Ivar of Limerick,
This pact was flawed and would not last.

In the year of our lord - nine hundred and sixty eight,
Brian led a raiding party to Ivar's fortress gate.
Then fled towards the forest, Limerick's Vikings took the bait,
They left the safety of Limerick, they could not foresee their fate.

Three hundred Dal gCais warriors,
Faced six hundred Viking men.
On the hillside known as Sulcoit,
Viking blood would flow again.

Brian's men were ready to unleash a surprise attack,
The Vikings were caught off guard, they desperately tried to fall back.
The tangled forest confused them, their wall of shields did fail,
A single Viking warrior was no match for a single Gael!

The fighting started late,
And lasted trough the night.
The Dal gCais were victorious,
They killed Vikings with such spite!

Brian then went and sacked Limerick,
Though little fighting would ensue.
The Dal gCais warriors were relentless,
Behold the rise of Brian Boru!

An evil in our midst that pervades our modern lives,
An arbitrary congregation of the lowest form of man.
Governed by a doctrine almost two thousand years old,
Allowed to fester in our world for far too long!

So many times we hear the stories of their sick and vile crimes,
The rape of innocent children, the destruction of their minds.
Several decades of abuse have been carried out by some,
The pleasant parish priest? The abhorrent raping scum!

And from the Vatican - silence! They turn a blind eye,
No condemnation of crimes, accusations they deny!
It's time to make a change, time to call them to account,
This corruption can't continue, we have to flush them out.

Our children they are sacred, more so than this church -
That needs to disappear, to die out and withdraw.
But not before we try them and make them recompense,
Do unto others as they would unto you,

And to the leaders of nations that allow this cancer spread,
Who carried out no trials or looked the other way as priests fled.
You are just as guilty of this sodomy of innocents,
Shame on you to let it happen, you should be put to death.

Deliver us from evil so that we may find respite,
Grant us peace and let our children see a world that is forthright,
Let them be free forever from these sick and aging men,
And guarantee this ancient cult will never rise again!