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It was said that our race had passed into legend |
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But I'll tell you a story about ancient times |
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When the ones of my blood stroke with power |
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To defend their roots with their life |
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Early morning awakes the blood-rage |
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And a bastion now rides battlewards |
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Burning eyes watch over the enemy, |
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A spark and the fire will start to burn |
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And the voice of the ancient ones |
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Is a message blowing winged to be heed |
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'cause my blood has dwelt here for centuries |
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There will always be a "we" and a "they" |
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Early mourning, sweat and bloodshed |
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Rising with the battlefield's fog |
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One more day of battles and corpses, |
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Flesh for the ravens fertilize the earth |
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It was said that our race had passed into legend |
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But I'll tell you a story about ancient times |
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When the ones of my blood stroke with power |
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To defend their roots with their life |
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Early morning awakes the blood-rage |
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And a bastion now rides battlewards |
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Burning eyes watch over the enemy, |
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A spark and the fire will start to burn |
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Stained my face with your blood |
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And pointing down my sword |
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It's time to feast and to drink from the horns |
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But before clean up your axe, Why? For Tomorrow? NO! |
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(There's) No tomorrow for us, |
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Cold is the wind that blows in our hearts |
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Only the halls of gods are waiting for us |
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(There's) No tomorrow for us, |
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Cold is the wind that blows in our hearts |
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Only the halls of gods are waiting for us |