Go Find the seven sons of Joan Tell the messengers to roam Take this letter, send it home Run He's a fierce son of a gun Tell the empress war has come Take this letter, send it home. Fly Prepare your daughters, Tell em now's about time To aim for those enemy lines. See, he did not belong here. Evil and full of greed. He did not belong. I said go! Take that misery from here! We weren't born to suffer dear. Take your leave or face your fears sir You dare to know her? Well, I see you travelled far and wandered Looking for trouble - here we are Children of iron, ruthless warriors Come! Don't run- Don't run! Don't you run, cause we- Fly! We've prepared our daughters. They know now's about time To aim for those enemy lines See, he did not belong here. Evil and full of greed. He did not belong. Tell your people: go. Take this letter home. ... Tell your people, go. Take this letter home. Tell your people, go. Take this letter home.