The peaks that hold the cold and sterile sky
Rest upon curves both feminine and kind
And carefully erases every dye
That invades the sickest of human minds

What solace will be seen to come here
When the wind blows a cold southerly gale
The air will carry our convictions clearly
Through what shall come, this sleet and rain and hail.

No matter the hurt they will surely pour
On our hearts and our flesh before the end
We will come before them quite unsoured
With our steely grit and our wills unbent

Until time passes on whatever coils
That fate would have in store for you and i
To bind us to inevitable perils
And triumphant victories on these isles.