Down from the glen came the marching men
With their shields and their swords
To fight the fight they believed to be right
Overthrow the overlords
To the town where there was plenty
They brought plunder, swords and flame
When they left the town was empty
Children would never play again
From their graves I heard the fallen
Above the battle cry
By that bridge near the border
There were many more to die
Then onward over the mountain
And outward towards the sea
They [bad word] to claim the Emerald
Without it they could not leave