Текст песни Канцлер Ги - Доброе утро, катары

We were told: "wound up in Provence heresy
Why are you sitting here, your mother? "
At leisure, we put chain mail
And went uproot the heresy (Nothing to do)

Good morning, Provence.
It can be seen without a miss us?

Only, just who is there to Qatar, who is Catholic
How do we distinguish one from another?
We are to the abbot. The abbot said: "Guys,
Beat all - God will know his own.

Good morning, Beziers.
Corpses of some corpses everywhere ... (overdone e-my, in mangled something ...)

Albigensians do not fight, the city surrender without a fight -
It would not have suffocated army of boredom.
The camp is set, the tent themselves with death
And go for firewood heretics (themselves and on foot!)

Good morning, Lavaur.
We drag the Cathars in the fire. (Good burn!)
Soon, soon the family coat of arms Montfort
We are at the gates of Toulouse Ladies profit.
And the nightmare will zhite Cathars
And from the face pale Count Raymond. (Yes, I'm a year as pale)

Here begins the day -
Stones fly off the walls.

My spirit went to paradise.
Lady Toulouse goodbye!
That's someone took over my work.
I rest here in my entire life -
Dying of boredom, I was strolling through the garden
And all this from the sky look.

From affairs who quit Senor -
Count Simon de Montfort.