Those feet that once stood tall and proud
Under dark obsidian clouds,
Travel now once more upon
The hallowed grounds of Albion.
Through shrines and shires the Iceni ride
To the seat of ancient power,
Cross moors and mountains
Past marble fountains
To the steps of a Roman tower.
How they shall cower!
As Boudicca comes spear in hand.
They'll soon retreat,
Give up and leave
Back to their promised land.