Mother Europe Lyrics - Ancient Rites

Oh remember the proud Hellenic civilisation 

The cradle of Europe where it all began 

Or the Portuguese and Spanish Armada 

Overwhelming Thy power, a tribute to the south 

Bruges, Antwerp, Ghent forever in my heart 

Representing medieval Flemish pride 

Brave Teutonic, French and English knights 

Thy shining armour now long vanished 

Thy glory, however, forever remains 

Praised be the Scandinavian hordes 

Once the nightmare of the Christian world 

I talk of not of mercy 

I talk not of fear 

The hopeless warriors of a Willing Doom 

Children of Italia 

In ancient times "Roma Caput Mundi" 

De Verenigde Nederlanden, parel van het noorden 

Belgium and The Netherlands stood as one 

Mother Europe born from your womb 

Mother Europe on Your soil shall be my tomb 

I talk of not of mercy 

I talk not of fear 

The hopeless warriors of a Willing Doom 

Oh what that gallant spirit shall resume 

Leap from Europe's bank and call Thee from the tomb 

(Hail to the sons of eastern Europe 

the Slavonian soul never fades) 

Blessed are Scotland, Ireland and Bretagne 

Where the Celtic dream still lives on 

Shall be my tomb!