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News that came that morning told that the main force had been slain, Chance for peace and justice gone, and all talks had been in vain A prince had been offended and he had gone the path of war Now that 1500 men are dead, and the Zulus at the door Zulus attack, Fight back to back! Show them no mercy and Fire at will, Kill or be killed! Facing, awaiting A hostile spear, a new frontier, the end is near! There's no surrender! The lines must hold, their story told, Rorke's Drift controlled! Later on that fateful day as they head towards the drift, Stacking boxes, fortifying, preparations must be swift Spears and shields of oxen hide facing uniforms and guns, As the rifles fire echoes higher, beating like the sound of drums Zulus attack, Fight back to back! Show them no mercy and Fire at will, Kill or be killed! Facing, awaiting image: A hostile spear, a new frontier, the end is near! There's no surrender! The lines must hold, their story told, Rorke's Drift controlled! 1879, when a few held the line! (Back to back, attack, the dead are stacked!) When the last stand was made, and the Empire saved! (Back to back, attack, the dead are stacked!) Zulus attack, Fight back to back! Show them no mercy and Fire at will, Kill or be killed! Facing, awaiting A hostile spear, a new frontier, the end is near! There's no surrender! The lines must hold, their story told, Rorke's Drift controlled! A hostile spear, a new frontier, the end is near! There's no surrender! The lines must hold, their story told, Rorke's Drift controlled!