The First Battle of Moytirra

The Firbolgs are marching

With their heavy spears in hand

To face the noble Dannan

And fight for the fate of Ireland...

The Tuatha de Dannan clash

With the raging Firbolg host

Iron shatters bronze and forth

Is spilled the blood of many

A warrior once strong and bold...

But at night, a miracle occurs

The wounded are healed

Bathed in healing herbs

They are restored to health...

And in the morning, war

Is seen dawning with the sun

Until the land turns a murky red

And rivers are dyed with blood...

In the end the Dannap prevail,

The Firbolgs lie defeated

And surrender in utter shame

Before the throne of Nuadu...

Yet the king sees no victory -

By Dannan law he Has to fall.

For to rule a man needs both hands

And he only has but one left...