They looked out from the fortress on the hill

There came a single warrior returning from the kill

The spoils of war hung from his horses mane

The bloody heads of enemies that he had freshly slayed



They saw the face, the eyes so sullen

Could only be the young Cuchullain



Thunder rising, thunder rising

Thunder rising early in the morning

Cities burning, the world keeps turning

Thunder rising early in the morning



The son of Lugh MacEithleen knew no fear

For just one blow at any foe to tell his end was near

So many tried to mock this Celtic son

They taunted and they teased him till he slayed them one by one



And so they came, and so they've fallen

At the hands of young Cuchullain



Thunder rising, thunder rising

Thunder rising early in the morning

Cities burning, the world keeps turning

Thunder rising early in the morning



Long ago, the legend has it

How the mighty Ulster men

Battled with the King Of Connacht

Fighting to the bitter end



No one knew what foolish reason

Caused this skirmish to begin

Was it treachery or treason

Or just the idle threats of drunken men?



Thunder rising, thunder rising

Thunder rising early in the morning

Cities burning, the world keeps turning

Thunder rising early in the morning



Thunder rising, thunder rising

Thunder rising early in the morning

Young men are dying, the widows are crying

Thunder rising early in the morning