than a thousand reeds Springing up like weeds There were horns of ev'ry shape and kind. There were copper bottom tympani in horse platoons Thundering, thundering
But by Satan's fire burning in your eyes And the thundering voice of a lion over the plains of man Shall proclaim the horned phoenix final rise For
more than a thousand reeds Springing up like weeds There were horns of ev'ry shape and kind. There were copper bottom tympani in horse platoons Thundering, thundering
men in shining armour knights of the table-round go out and ride like thunder cross the sky at the speed of sound the horn, 'n blow the trumpets upon
at you Yeah seven, yeah seven The number of crowns The number of plagues The number of bowls made of gold Yeah trumpets, how many trumpets How much thunder
(The gathering of Braveheart's forces against the Duke's dark legions...) As the north wind howled And the thunder broke, Braveheart Stands proudly before
eyes lookin' at you: Seven... seven The number of the crowns The number of plagues The number of bowls made of gold Trumpets, how many trumpets How much thunder
: (The gathering of Braveheart's forces against the Duke's dark legions...) As the north wind howled And the thunder broke, Braveheart Stands proudly
