May your soul be purified By my Deadly kiss of death!" The world turns to black Our army stands tall In fury and hate From behind comes the sword!
form May your soul be purified By my Deadly kiss of death!" The world turns to black Our army stands tall In fury and hate From behind comes the sword
Please stay sleep, please stay sleep please stay sleep, you niggas stay sleep Sippin on six murder minutes, the sauce I give blood from the cup
and proud. Shadows appear from behind the torchlight, slowly arise from the deepest fog. The pestering storms, the raging battles forward from the north. An ancient
That has proved that oysters cry And that I have come to know and accept as myself And plucking a barbed feather from the morose universe I called him
to their rest. It's just remembrance of their dignity we Chorus: So come on rally round this brave and valiant cause with tradition, pride, and honor at its core. With swords
it seems I saw it all before so many centuries ago the ancient terrors creep behind me what a fuck is that - I cry horror possessed my mind but I know
attacked with full force, But their front, were slain with no remorse. Angel's blood soon covered the ground, One thirteen was attacking from behind
of Balder Autumn came to an end And the first snow began to fall Balder's face was clouded The dreams of warning had called His mother sought oaths From
he held up his hands in a gesture of peace The silver opponent allowed this retreat Then the man with the red sword attacked from behind Left the silver sword
gesture of peace The silver opponent allowed this retreat Then the man with the red sword attacked from behind Left the silver sword fighter defeated
had my courage measured By the great heroic death Behind a grisly image A grim and ghastly wrath A striking portrait hidden In a cruel and ancient vision
Which can never melt the icy salt of its waves And left orphans by warm snows we go insane At your ancient resigned gaze The golden swords of the sun
Sacramental torment of my spirit Tears me apart in my dreams Frozen hymns of ancient years. .Disharmony in your veins. Dreams of reality make me scream
Alpha Wing, polished swords, spears and poll-axes reflecting the glow from the myriad torches and braziers which still burned about the Imperial Host. And behind