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and it came to pass
in those leaden days
that a plain, poor man got sick of his yoke
of condemned soil
and foreign empires 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 the 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