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Borne in a village far from the lighte |
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Declined by his father, the unwanted childe |
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An outcast from hell, a rebel at all |
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Wanted to live not to kneele to the false |
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Disowned by his comrades, standing alone |
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He was never a hero assigned for the throue |
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Deceived and betrayed, tread as a slave |
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The wilde bloody son was fighting his fate |
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Wielding the axe, vengeance in his veins |
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The bloody son hath return'd |
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The Axewielder |
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Back from the grave, he swore to fighte |
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The Axewielder |
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Withe fire in the eyes he's burning the nighte |
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The Axewielder |
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A warrior, breaking his chains |
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The Axewielder |
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He swore an oathe, it's the hour of the axe |
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Blinted by shadows in fear of his paste |
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Grown to a rock, the stone in his hearte |
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Walked through the graves, sawe the dust of his life |
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Struggled and bled, he foughte to survive |
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The wrathe in his bloode, the will to succeede |
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Decided to fighte, his fire to feede |
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The oathe hath been sworn, never to crawle |
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He follow'd his hearte, never kneele to the false [Bridge] [Chorus] |
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I see the darke of my childehoode |
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And I feele the hate in my eyes |
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I remember the bloode and the paine |
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But I won't surrender |
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I won't kneele to their falsenesse |
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Vengeance fills my veins |
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I will fighte... [Solo:Scott/Lars/both] [Chorus] |
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Back from the grave, it's the hour of the axe... |
