The Spanish navy strong enough,
maybe too strong for their worth.
Led with the cross and then the sword.
Never questioning their Lord.

The infantry, the Tudor reign,
grabbing at what's there to gain,
As history repeats itself,
living as a helpless serf.

The Tribesman who once conquered all,
dying with the lions roar.
As history repeats itself,
nothing ever making sense.

The Christians, Jews,
Muslims, all,
each one shall forever fall.
Upon their blades,
those raised in hate,
Each one to their own sweet faith.