1692, the 29th of May
Sir "Tourville", the admiral, his fleet is on its way
He commands his ships to fight, they attack the british line
He must be caught in senseless pride, to him his honour's prime
His mighty flagship strong and brave, heading for the fight
It pets the british men to grave, cruising through the tide
The veil of night obscures the sea, the tables getting turned
Confusion rules, no chance to flee, his fleet is getting burned
Cannons speak the fatal words, the language of death
Wipes away to many men, takes away their breath
Heat and fire, burning pyre
Smoke and flames, a raging hell
Death and blood, the fatal rub
Blows away "Soleil Royal"
Their position's getting intricate, heading for "Cherbourg"
Desperatly they dare their fate, they feel too much secured
vibrating
turning
turned
their
takes
strong
storage
stern
tables
speak
soleil
spark
smoke
ships
trace
rushing
rules
royal
cruising
giant
night
bursting
coupe
chance
fleet
burned
decks
attack
burial
confusion
brave
death
tearing
apart
caught
fight
breath
blows
senseless
commands
obscures
spills
cannons
blood
wipes
english
british
ground
fatal
smell
burning
flames
intricate
follow
admiral
getting
flagship
grace
grave
heading
heavy
language
secured
balls
mighty
powder
through
pride
words
prime
raging
round
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