War spirits sing And battle souls cry Forever they'll live though their bodies have Died wolves signal storms As they howl in the night They strengthen our might When days are forlorn
Good friends good times!
Divinity defiled
In the darkness I bleed A blasphemous discipline Upon which I would feed The people declared That I would be the one Who would venture to the stars And bow to none
Those who sought the dawn Became so hollow They feared to follow The crimson shadow
The path of the poet The fist in the skull The will of the ancients Bow to vesperia
Big son of a bitch
We have grown so weak with longing For a life far gone we were strong But now surrounded by corpses and horses And the shadow of the westerman
An era when the blind Sing the sylvan They speak of days long since gone And after we have left this world The ferriman will guide us home
