Campfires on hillsides resemble stars in the sky
A grim mise en scène for what will be our last night
Forty-five foes for each of our swords
All dreams of glory now lost, we plead with our Lord

Almighty, have mercy!
Oh oh oh

As the sun sets behind the mountains, we lie in wait in grievous despair
We sense the footfall of thousands as their retinue arrives in the square
Now into this plaza filled with majesty, silver and gold
Treads our emissary of God, bringing salvation for these wretched souls

Oh oh oh

Words of disrespect and threats of bloodshed prompt a signal for our cannons to fire
Our cavalry assaults, prepared to fight to the death for God and the empire
We rise from our hiding places and follow the thunder of our guns
Our rapiers slashing cotton and flesh we charge towards the only one

Scores of them fall into a bloody mass
Their axes cannot cleave the Castilian cuirass
The grand army of the mountains now flees
Behold the triumph of steel!

Two thousand foes lie slain, yet our troops stand
The son of the sun has fallen in our hands
The empire of the mountains is now on its knees
Behold the triumph of steel!

Oh oh oh