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I have seen the staggering doomed
in a cold flush take our dead
whilst I sleep silent beside them
awoken by fire and noise
and to where does hunger seek the living
as light transcends from their eyes
heavens falling to crush the burdened
under black earth that rains down from the sky

engulfed with tragedy
at the horrors of lost kin
among storms of the war shrieking by
its dust winds a wealth of orphans
a generation of widows
an army of fallen brothers

theyre calling..

and we march with cold hands still gripping
with our feet in right marshal for the snow
but have we not a song for the fallen
our tongues sing the dead ones ive loved
and ive loved..

we would rapture some night in earthed rampart
with stories of a memory faded dress
once I slept silent beside her
awoken in lands far from home

under no mans circumstances
under no gods prophecy
our paths crestfallen
in a winters grave

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