|
On to the snow, in a desolate moor
|
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We¡¯re marching through thunders, we follow the moon
|
|
A new day is rising, it only can tell
|
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What will be our fate
|
|
....the swords now are shining, we¡¯re ready to kill
|
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Searching a new way to scrub all my pain
|
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But swordshocks and blood are contrasting my aim
|
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What now I need is a stonger defence
|
Help me if you can
|
|
....now heaven is falling, the snow¡¯s turning red
|
|
Nightriders fight with a sword made of steel
|
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trying to defend our king
|
|
a great scream of victory¡¯ll rise from the voice of the Gods
|
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Sorrow and destruction have found now their way
|
|
We¡¯ve got the right but it¡¯s so hard to say
|
|
A million of soldiers have died without fear
|
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Feeling deadly shivers
|
|
....we roam through the mountains, we fight to survive!
|
|
Silently, across the snowplain, we look to the sun¡¯s shining high
|
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Searching for a new horizon we¡¯re proud to belong to the king
|
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|
|
-----------------
|
Voice of the Gods
|
| Arthemis |
