Lyrics:

['Hall Of The Masters' Version]
[Taken from Exhibit V: Tara (presented herein an alternate version)]

We are three High Kings in honor.
We are the midst of Dagda's spell
We are three armored forces, and
We are the gold torqued leaders.
Three wild horsemen.
Three fearless in combat.
Three gold-crowned conjurers of clash, yet
Three clannish chiefs from the Kingdom of Midhe.....
The leading, foremost tyrant
The subsequent tormentor, and
The past intimidator of Cythrául
Are impending.
'Has there ever been a better idol than Dagda?
Will there ever be a better icon than myself?'
'In the eyes of myself, i fervently speak.'
The trio goes out at dawn
Fiercely, we plan to fight our assailants:
Three of us versus three thousand: complete.
'In the eyes of myself, I adroitly scream!'
'WE WILL ARRIVE AT THE STONE OF DESTINY.' [Tara]
'WE WILL REACH THE PERDITION OF IBID.' [Cythrául]
INVINCIBLE: we are to their spears!
INTREPIDLY: we occupy our posts!
A FORECASTOF DESTINY!
INVISIBLE: they are to their hands!
INSOLENTLY: they are amuse their own pride!
INTERCHANGEABILITY: INNERCHANGEABILITY!
'With the sway of myself, weather means disaster.
I affirm each day for the men of the brave.'

[Repeat Verse:]
As our sword of steel, their mead, anc courage are fused.
Is it not the throne for our Master of the Gulch?
On its trim are rings of pearls: poished,
One seat remains near the jaded citadel

[First Supposition - Narration:]
'The plains of adoration do lie somewhere below Tara, way belowe Tara, as a
matter of fact.
Sometimes given as Moyslaught and as always, Crom Cruach is welcomed.'
'With the sway of myself, weather means disaster.
I affirm each day for the men of the brave.'

[Final Supposition - Narration:]
'The notorious Klan stands by the ramparts at Tara where all enemies are
approaching.
Being bound by a geis, the three have no choiche but to stand against the
feeble units.
Enveloping in an opaque mist, they suddenly find themselves in a magical
place where they are received by the deity Manannán and a courtly witch.
Finally they begin to walk up the steep grassland of Tara, with wand and
swords, which enables them to distinguish the truth from the lies.'

It is the chair for our Master of the Tor.
It is embellished with bullion: marked.
It remainson top of the loftymound.
It streams gray and silver lining.
It will be an accolade given to us.
That is by the third of the last kings.