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The lords of the passes are arming their vassals |
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You'll find no shelter that way |
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The conscripts they've taken have never returned |
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And our hopes fade with each passing day |
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The gates of the keeps are all closing |
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And broken men wander the road |
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The farmers have fled to the forests |
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Burning their fields as they go |
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The dukes of the marches have ordered their archers |
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To shoot all outlanders on sight |
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Turn back your horses before it's too late |
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There'll be no safe crossing this night |
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Hear the horns, pounding hooves |
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Visions of cities aflame |
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Wailing cries, dawn of doom |
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Die by the sword or in chains |
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Men kneel in temples of madness |
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False prophets spread discord and fear |
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Darkness descends once again |
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They say the lords of the last days rule here |
