Music of Eras

Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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Here's a place to highlight songs from your nation's history.

Over the Hills and Far Away
by Johan Torp, 1816, written during the Calisean invasion during the Wars of the Calisean Republic.

Here's forty kross on the drum
For those who'll volunteer to come
To 'list and fight the foe today.
Over the hills and far away.

O'er the hills and o'er the main.
Through Norsos, Maloria and Aleman.
King Richard commands and we obey.
Over the hills and far away.

When duty calls me, I must go
To stand and face another foe.
But part of me will always stray
Over the hills and far away.

O'er the hills and o'er the main.
Through Norsos, Maloria and Aleman.
King Richard commands and we obey.
Over the hills and far away.

If I should fall to rise no more,
As many comrades did before,
Then ask the fifes and drums to play
Over the hills and far away.

O'er the hills and o'er the main.
Through Norsos, Maloria and Aleman.
King Richard commands and we obey.
Over the hills and far away.

Then fall in lads behind the drum,
With colours blazing like the sun.
Along the road to come-what may.
Over the hills and far away.

O'er the hills and o'er the main.
Through Norsos, Maloria and Aleman.
King Richard commands and we obey.
Over the hills and far away.


Come all You Brave Prydanians
by Charles Joð, 1846, written to honour a Prydanian victory against the Callisens in western Prydania in 1817.

Come all you brave Prydanians
I'd have you lend an ear
Concerning a fine ditty
That will make your courage cheer,
Concerning an engagement
We had at Samloku town―
The courage of those Callise boys
So bravely we pulled down.

There was a bold commander
General Beck by name
Took shipping at Landerne
And unto Erkiengill he came.
He said:
"My gallant heroes,
Forward if you would steer
To fight against Callise boys
Without dread or fear."

We travelled all that night
And part of the next day
With firm determination
To show them the Nordika play.

We travelled all that night
And part of the next day
With bold determination
To conquer or to die.

Our general sent a flag to them
And unto them did say:
"Surrender now your lines
Or I'll fire on you this day."
But they would not surrender
And chose to stand their ground
We opened up our great guns
And gave them fire all around.
Their general sent a flag to us
For quarter he did call:
"Hold your guns, Prydanian boys, I fear you'll slay us all."
"Our line you have at your command
Our camp likewise."
They brought their guns and grounded them
Right down before our eyes.

And now we are all home again
Each man is safe and sound
May the memory of this victory
All through the realm sound.
Success unto our volunteers
Who did their rights maintain
And to our bold commander General Beck by name!


They All Call It Prydania, but I Call It Home
by Freybjörn Grendal, 1957, written following King Robert VII dissolving the fascist government, as a celebration of a better, democratic Prydania. Currently getting renewed play in Prydania to celebrate the country's rebuild following the Civil War.

This is my country
This is my land
My old Prydanian land
This is my home

Side by side and stroke by stroke
Our fathers were sailing along
They were building a road to the future
With a sword and a smile and a song.

Out of the wilderness and out of the surf
Grew the land that we live in today.
Though the job to be done has barely begun,
There is one thing I'm proud to say:

My country is my cathedral
The northern sky its dome
They all call it Prydania
But I call it home

The mountains, the lakes and valleys
Are friends that I have known
They all call it Prydania
But I call it home
From the Straight to the March
From the sea to Norsia
We're on united brotherhood
And united we will stay

The people across Craviter
And far across the foam
They all call it Prydania
But I call it home


For the King, to Valhalla
by Knud Buch, 2013, written as a Royalist song in honour of Prince Tobias Loðbrók during the Civil War following the Second Battle of Markarfljot.

When a humble bard
Graced a ride along
With Tobias Loðbrók
Along came this song

From when the true Prince fought
A silver-tongued scoundrel
His army of thugs
At his command did they revel

They came after me
With masterful deceit
Broke down my door
And they kicked in my teeth

While the scoundrel's men
Minced our tender meat
And so cried the Prince
He can’t be beat

For the King, to Valhalla
O’ Valley of Plenty
O’ Valley of Plenty
O’
For the King, to Valhalla
O’ Valley of Plenty

At our edge of the world
Fight the Syndie horde
That bashes and breaks you
And brings you to mourn

He fought every red
Until they were all dead
Tossed to the dark
From whence they came

He wiped out your pest
Got kicked in his chest
He’s a friend of the realm
So give him the rest

That’s my epic tale
Our champion prevailed
Defeated the Syndies
Now pour him some ale

For the King, to Valhalla
O’ Valley of Plenty
O’ Valley of Plenty
O’
For the King, to Valhalla
 
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Highton

Not a Malorian vassal
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Marching Through Vaasa
Words added to military march to commemorate the 2020 annexation of North Vaasa

Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song;
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along,
Sing it as we used to sing it, fifty hundred strong,
While we were marching through Vaasa!
Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the re-unis!
Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free!
So we sang the chorus from Geheimestadt to the sea,
While we were marching through Vaasa!
Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring re-unis!
Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free!
So we sang the chorus from Geheimestadt to the sea,
While we were marching through Vaasa.
 

Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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You'll Never Leave Rakjandi Alive
by Daníval Ólfjörð, 1933, written to celebrate the strikers in the 1931-32 Rakjandi Coal Strike, aka the Rakjandi Coal War, aka Blóðugrakjandi (Bloody Rakjandi). Coal miners in the western Prydanian mountains went on strike and violently resisted attempts by the mine companies, Thanedom of Krummedike, and the national government to break the strike. The miners were forced back to work, but the event was key in the slow radicalization of the Syndicalist movement. The song itself makes no overt reference to the strike, allowing it serve as a timeless anthem to the hardship of coal miners in the western Prydanian mountains.

In the deep dark hills of western Prydania
That's the place where I trace my bloodline
And it's there I read on a hillside gravestone
'You will never leave Rakjandi alive'

When my granddad's dad walked down Ash Mountain
And he asked Elna Höyer to be his bride
He said, won't you walk with me out of the mouth of this valley?
Or we'll never leave Rakjandi alive

Where the sun comes up about ten in the morning
And the sun goes down about three in the day
And you fill your cup with whatever bitter brew you're drinkin'
And you spend your life just thinkin' of how to get away

Well no one ever knew there was coal in them mountains
'Til a man from Beaconsviði arrived
Waving hundred kross bills
He said, I'll pay you for your minerals
But he never left Rakjandi alive

Well granny, she sold out cheap and they moved out south of Keris
To a farm where big Landerne River winds
I bet they danced them a jig and laughed and sang a new song
Who said we'd never leave Rakjandi alive?

But the times, they got hard and rye wasn't selling
And ole granddad knew what he'd do to survive
He went and dug for Rakjandi Coal
Sent the money back to granny but he never left Rakjandi alive

Where the sun comes up about ten in the morning
And the sun goes down about three in the day
And you fill your cup with whatever bitter brew you're drinkin'
And you spend your life just thinkin' of how to get away

And the sun comes up about ten in the morning
And the sun goes down about three in the day
And you fill your cup with whatever bitter brew you're drinking
And you spend your life digging coal from the bottom of your grave

In the deep dark hills of western Prydania
That's the place where I trace my bloodline
And it's there I read on a hillside gravestone
'You'll never leave Rakjandi alive'
 
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Kanada

TNPer
Trusty 208
Made in 1963 from multiple contributions from different soldiers of the Third Sundeonian Company of the Häer vör yy Viirenyt Künigrykja Kanada, which was a paramilitary group that operated in Southern Kanada, with the goal of expelling Malorian soldiers in the region. The 208 referred to in the song is the Kejserlikam-208, a generally well-respected Kalgarian-produced rifle which was donated in heavy amounts to the fighters of the HVKK.

And it's down along the farm road, that's where I long to be
Lying in the dark with my third Company
A brother on my left and another one on my right
A clip of ammunition for my trusty Two-Oh-Eight

I was stopped by a soldier, he said, "You are a swine"
He hit me with his rifle and he kicked me in the groin
I begged and I pleaded, my manners were all polite
But all this time I'm thinking of my trusty Two-Oh-Eight

And it's down in the foothills, that's where I long to be
Lying in the dark with my third Company
A brother on my left and another one on my right
And a clip of ammunition for my trusty Two-Oh-Eight

Well this brave Guardsman came marching up our street
600 Malor'an soldiers he had lined up at his feet
"Come out you cowardly Sundeon'ans, come on out and fight"
And he cried "I'm only joking!", when he heard the Two-Oh-Eight

And it's down in Haeverad, that's where I long to be
Lying in the dark with my Third Company
A brother on my left and another one on my right
A clip of ammunition for me trusty Two-Oh-Eight

Well, their army came to visit me, 'out in the early hours
With Guardsmen, and Kozaks, and Ret armoured cars
They thought they had me cornered, but I gave them all a fright
With the armour-piercing bullets of my trusty Two-Oh-Eight

And it's down in Senneran, that's where I long to be
Lying in the dark with my Third company
A brother on my left and another one on my right
A clip of ammunition for me trusty Two-Oh-Eight

Well, when Melkin came to Sundeon, to see the battles won
The generals they had told him, "We've got them on the run"
But corporals and privates, while on patrol at night
Say, "Remember Fääsnning Väkingr, and their fuckin' Two-Oh-Eights."

And it's down in that Fortress, that's where I long to be
Lying in the dark with my third Company
A brother on my left and another one on my right
And a clip of ammunition for my trusty Two-Oh-Eight.


Going Home, At Last
Written in 1971 by Harinn Johanssen, a HVKK soldier, to mock the Malorian soldiers as they left Sundeon in face of Kanadian unification.

So it's pull down the watchtowers you're going home at last
Say farewell to Fort Seanin, Senneran, and Haeverad
With your kit-bag on your shoulder and a tear all in your eye
Well, pardon me for smiling while you're waving me goodbye

You say you came to save us in the year of fifty-three
But you stayed to stop the commies with their unbeaten winning spree.
When it came to those poor veterans, you showed the world what you could do
Six thousand starved in your captivity,
and your true colours, they shone through

So it's pull down the watchtowers you're going home at last
Say farewell to Fort Seanin, Senneran, and Haeverad
With your kit-bag on your shoulder and a tear all in your eye
Well pardon me for smiling while you're waving me goodbye

You found you could not beat us after fifteen years of war
Despite all your Choppers, foot-patrols and armoured cars
We never will surrender or get on our knees and beg
So go crawling back to Arkum with your tail between your legs

So it's pull down the watchtowers you're going home at last
Say farewell to Fort Seanin, Senneran, and Haeverad
With your kit-bag on your shoulder and a tear all in your eye
Well pardon me for smiling while you're waving me goodbye

You say you're sad to leave us but we have no regrets
You've left behind a legacy we never will forget
From Senneran to Prydania, you carved out your cursed name
Your hands are stepped in our blood, so hang your heads in shame

So it's pull down the watchtowers you're going home at last
Say farewell to Fort Seanin, Senneran, and Haeverad
With your kit-bag on your shoulder and a tear all in your eye
Well pardon me for smiling while you're waving me goodbye
 

Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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Bountiful Evening
by ??? in ??? This song is a traditional Prydanian folk song believed to originate circa 900, following the establishment of viking colonies in the Bayardi land of Prieden following Oswald the Conqueror's unification of Andrenne. Though certain anthropologists and linguists believe a variation may have been song by the vikings of Heorot prior to Hróarr Loðbrók's exodus. It is believed that the version that solidified into a folk song in what became Prydania references the Craviter Swallow, which has become a symbol both of the Yellowtail Economic Engagement Treaty and the Akarian Sayoku Dōmei political party.

bountiful, bountiful, bountiful
A little swallow flew
and started to twitter,
to summon the master:
"Come out, come out, O master,
look at the sheep pen,
there the ewes have yeaned
and the lambkins have been born
Your livestock is great,
you will have a lot of money,
If not money, then chaff,
you have beautiful wife."
bountiful, bountiful, bountiful,
A little swallow flew.
 
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Syrixia

The one, the true, the great.
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Pataliputra
by Aanya; released May 30, 2020 to celebrate Pataliputra being awarded hosting privileges for the 2020 Odinspyl Games

Pata-Pataliputra,
Finally it's time to go!
To see Adityana Street,
To heat up my feet!
Pata-Pataliputra,
Searchin' for a heart of gold,
The one that I used to know!
Pataliputra!

I've seen a lot of places all around the world,
And I know for sure I'm a city girl!
Oh oh, but only one has got a mystic hold on me,
With the magic speed just like a time machine!
I can't fight this feeling, the flight is on its way!

Pata-Pataliputra,
Finally it's time to go!
To see Adityana Street,
To heat up my feet!
Pata-Pataliputra,
Searchin' for a heart of gold,
The one that I used to know!
Pataliputra!

Pataliputra!
Pataliputra!

The City of Two Thousand Years holds nothing back,
From Bijana's streets to the bazaar shacks!
Oh-oh, I only gotta find the number of that block,
Near the jita shop, and I will never stop!
Followin' this feelin', we'll let it grow tonight!

Pata-Pataliputra,
Finally it's time to go!
To see Adityana Street,
To heat up my feet!
Pata-Pataliputra,
Searchin' for a heart of gold,
The one that I used to know!
Pataliputra!

Pataliputra!
Pataliputra!

Oh oh oh, busy!
Oh oh oh, fizzy!
Oh oh oh, Pataliputra!

Oh oh oh, gimme!
Oh oh oh, show me!
Pataliputra, here we go!

Go go go go go go
Go go go go go go

Pata-Pataliputra,
Finally it's time to go!
To see Adityana Street,
To heat up my feet!
Pata-Pataliputra,
Searchin' for a heart of gold,
The one that I used to know!
Pataliputra!

Pata-Pataliputra,
Finally it's time to go!
To see Adityana Street,
To heat up my feet!
Pata-Pataliputra,
Searchin' for a heart of gold,
The one that I used to know!
Pataliputra!

Oh oh oh, busy!
Oh oh oh, fizzy!
Oh oh oh, Pataliputra!

Oh oh oh, gimme!
Oh oh oh, show me!
Pataliputra, here we go!
 
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Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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The Dancing Wind
by Bjarkar Freydal, 1591. This song was written to celebrate the Christmas season and the onset of winter. It reflects Prydania's long nature-oriented outlook. The country has always relied on its agricultural output, but this song explains why the winter season is one of celebration and not dread. While it does kill vegetation the cold also reinvigorates the land after the harvests of the fall. Prydania's outlook towards nature is thus summed up as one of balance.

The cold comes at Christmas
certainly dark as coal.
Caressing children
sheltered with candles in windows.
wind, yes dance wind
It's winter and the cold gives a new vigour.
wind, yes dance wind
It's slipping on a cold Christmas Eve.
Now the snow is sparkling
in a black night.
Feeds of rhythms and tones
of vibrant hearts.
wind, yes dance wind
It's winter and the cold gives a new vigour.
wind, yes dance wind
It's slipping on a cold Christmas Eve.
wind, yes dance wind
in winter, children find shelter.
wind, yes dance wind
Winter brings children a Merry Christmas.
 

Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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Take Me Home, Woodland Roads
by Jasper Dahl, 1921. The song was written to celebrate the natural beauty of the countryside in western Prydania. It experienced a resurgence at the end of the Civil War, popular among farmers who were returning home after being forcibly conscripted into mining pits or industrial factories by the Syndicalist government.

Almost Valhalla, Prydania
Ash Ridge Mountains, Landerne River
Life is old there, older than the trees
Younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze

Woodland roads, take me home
To the place I belong
Prydania, forests tall
Take me home, woodland roads

All my memories gather round her
Hunter's spirit, stranger to peaceful skies
Dark and calm, painted on the land
Misty taste of brennivín, teardrop in my eye

Woodland roads, take me home
To the place I belong
Prydania, forests tall
Take me home, woodland roads

I hear her voice, in the morning hour she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And driving down the road I get a feeling
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday

Woodland roads, take me home
To the place I belong
Prydania, forests tall
Take me home, woodland roads

Woodland roads, take me home
To the place I belong
Prydania, forests tall

Take me home, woodland roads
Take me home, down woodland roads
Take me home, down woodland roads
 

unavailable2

A normal person
A Hero
'A Hero' is a song composed by Shri Radhamurli Krishnan after the Chola Civil War of 1859.

He was just a little child
When he wanted to serve the nation
He was finally selected
It was a celebration

For the first time he ever
Picked up a musket
For he was a patriot
And he fought for justice

Many letters he sent to his family
He was married
She was a loving woman
But she sacrificed for the calamity

He was deployed in Wasnikhet
He was a Naukhil Major
He attacked the rebel trenches
And was killed

He was a hero
He was a patriot
He was a soldier
He was an atheist

But he still served the god
He was a hero
 

Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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The Battle Cry of Valhalla
by Gerðar Reykfell in 1817, this song was written in honour of the war effort against the invading Calliseans and gained popularity as a marching song. The song's lyrics were re-worked in 2014 by an unknown source, serving as a song for the Royalist side during the Prydanian Civil War.

Oh we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!
And we'll rally from the hillside, we'll gather from the forest,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!

The Kingdom forever, hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the invaders, up with the Cross;
While we rally round the flag, boys, we rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!

So we're springing to the call from the East and from the West,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla;
And we'll hurl Chavier's crew from the land we love the best,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!

The Kingdom forever, hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the invaders, up with the Cross;
While we rally round the flag, boys, we rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!


2014 version

Oh we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!
And we'll rally from the hillside, we'll gather from the forest,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!

The Kingdom forever, hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the Hammer, up with the Cross;
While we rally round the flag, boys, we rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!

So we're springing to the call from the East and from the West,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla;
And we'll hurl the Syndie crew from the land we love the best,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!

The Kingdom forever, hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the Hammer, up with the Cross;
While we rally round the flag, boys, we rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Valhalla!
 
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Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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Hróarr's Song
by Cædmon Völsung in 1151, written in the latter years of King Anders I's reign, the song references Hróarr Loðbrók leading the clans of Heorot east to Prydania from Andrenne in the 870s. The song celebrates the voyage across the Great Northern Ocean and romanticizes the adventurous streak of the viking age.

Follow the path
To where no one's ever been
Don't turn around
Until you reach the end
Across the sea
And beyond the distant lands
The world awaits
So don't make any plans
There you go
There you go

When every step
Takes you a thousand miles away
You'll find the edge
Beyond the break of day
And leave behind
Everything you've ever had
The one's you love
The comfort of your bed
There you go
There you go

What you call home
Is a box of memories
Forever lost
But good enough to keep
Cause you don't know
What tomorrow holds for you
Another path
Or just a glimpse of truth
There you go
There you go

There's a place at the end of the road
Where our lives turn to light pure as gold
Where the past is just a sparkle of time
And the world is all good by design

This is not a farewell
Just a goodbye
 

Yalkan

Minister of You
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Time flies with rum
Shanty sung on gotic ships coming out of Yalkan.

No future was there in Zeta for a poor man's son like me,
So I left my home and I went to seek my fortune on the sea,
I signed aboard a merchant ship out for the East Demeci’s,
and six weeks out we tacked into the winds of piracy.

There were sails on the horizon and we tried to make a run,
And when we saw that black flag, then our running it was done,
When those pirates boarded us they told us one by one,
"You can die or join our crew me boys,
Time flies when you're having rum!"

(Chorus):
(Time flies when you're having rum me boys,
time flies when you're having rum,
when you're sailing under the black flag
and you're firing all your guns,
when you take a Rixi treasure ship,
you divide by the rule of thumb,
The voyage will be over soon enough,
time flies when you're having rum,)

With a pistol to my forehead, then my choice was all too clear,
I took leave of that merchant ship and became a buccaneer,
and though they spared my life I think that if the truth be told,
I'd join them for the promise of
adventure, rum and gold.

The quartermaster handed me a cutlass and a gun,
and as I signed their articles the captain told me "Son,
us gentlemen of fortune live life fast and on the run,
so step right up and take your share,
time flies when you're having rum!"

(Chorus)

For two long years I sailed with them,
Around the Rixi Mains,
We capture ships from Syrixia,
from Malor, Astrogon, and Goyanes
we took what we could and we give none back,
for that's the pirate's code,
and in our wake the Metteran Sea ran red with blood.

Admiralty in Sarazed sent a fleet to hunt us down,
a traitor in Klarliert told them where we could be found,
they surrounded us and that's when the captain shouted,
"Let 'em come! The fight will be over soon enough,
time flies when you're having rum."

(Chorus)

We ran the red flag up and then we readied all our guns,
no quarter would we give and in return expected none,
we got off when good broadside,
but outnumbered ten to one,
they took out half our crew,
And then our pirating was done.

They took us to Sarazed Town,
under key and lock.
The hangman's noose was swinging at the execution dock.
The captain turned and said to me, "We had fine sailing son,
the voyage, it was over too soon,
time flies when you're having rum."

(Chorus)

Now as you've listened to this tale by know,
I'm sure you have surmised.
That I slipped the hangman's cable,
and escaped him with my life.
But how I got away,
Well that's another story son,
my voyages they ain't over yet!
time flies when you're having rum!

(Chorus x2)
 
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Kanada

TNPer
Zbyto
Written by an unknown Malorian soldier during the end of the Fascist War, Zbyto describes the tale of a crewman from a downed Malorian bomber in Kanada.

Swallowing dust, losing consciousness,
there's not much water left.
The plane is lying shot down somewhere nearby
and my rifle became heavy.
Yes, I was alone
and all my friends perished,
all hope is in one magazine,
but you won't take me that easy, brutes!

Cogor, Cogor Cogor,
Cogoria, Cogoria!
The black tulip spins
over the river bank.
Cogor, Cogor Cogor,
Cogoria, Cogoria!
The black tulip spins
over the river bank.

Broken, fractured legs,
every sound reverberates in the brain,
and I am sorry to die, by God
and twenty incomplete years
tears flow from my eyes, flowing
I tell myself to keep calm
and we're going to die with a smile

Cogor, Cogor Cogor,
Cogoria, Cogoria!
The black tulip spins
over the river bank.
Cogor, Cogor Cogor,
Cogoria, Cogoria!
The black tulip spins
over the river bank.

Surrounded I am, surrounded
there is no more salvation for me, to leave
coming closer to me, coming closer
And I will meet you mental beasts
coming up to me screaming something.
One strikes his rifle butt to the face.
The blood of the eye gushes in streams.
Well, farewell, I pulled the pin.

Cogor, Cogor Cogor,
Cogoria, Cogoria!
The black tulip spins
over the river bank.
Cogor, Cogor Cogor,
Cogoria, Cogoria!
The black tulip spins
over the river bank.
 
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Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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Marching Through Hadden
This song reused an old folk tune from the Prydanian countryside of Midland that had been used for a number of songs for centuries. Lieutenant Heiður Sværd is said to have written the lyrics to celebrate the FRE's capture of Hadden in late 2015 during the Prydanian Civil War.


Bring the good old fiddle, boys, we'll sing another song
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along
Sing it as we used to sing it, 50,000 strong
While we were marching through Hadden!

Hurrah! Hurrah! we bring the jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! the flag that makes you free!
So, we sang the chorus from Reykjadalr to the sea
While we were marching through Hadden!

How the people shouted when they heard the joyful sound
How the chickens clucked which our commissary found
How the wheat even started from the ground
While we were marching through Hadden!

Yes, and there were King’s men who wept with joyful tears,
When they saw the honoured flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers,
While we were marching through Hadden!

Hurrah! Hurrah! we bring the jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! the flag that makes you free!
So, we sang the chorus from Reykjadalr to the sea
While we were marching through Hadden!

"Eiderwig’s dashing Cavaliers will never reach the coast!"
So the saucy Syndies said and 'twas a handsome boast
Had they not forgot, alas! to reckon with the Host
While we were marching through Hadden!

So, we made a thoroughfare for freedom and her train,
A hundred kilometers in latitude, nearly five-hundred to the main;
Syndies fled before us, for resistance was in vain
While we were marching through Hadden!

Hurrah! Hurrah! we bring the jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! the flag that makes you free!
So, we sang the chorus from Reykjadalr to the sea
While we were marching through Hadden!

Hurrah! Hurrah! we bring the jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! the flag that makes you free!
So we sang the chorus from Reykjadalr to the sea
While we were marching through Hadden!
While we were marching through Hadden!
While we were marching through Hadden!
 
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