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