Ruler of his land, passed to him by kin He must hunt a gry lion, the last of its kind To claim the throne for his own
Securing his land, he hunts his game Though barbarians have united under one name The marked one will live just to see him die
In the lonely desert the sun sets on the blood hills The oracle will come true the gry lion will die Opet will burn The kindness of the sunbird will cause the death of his king He didn’t know the enemy he made The gods can’t save them
The army of the black king will follow him to death Numbers more than men can count Fate blows on the wind The oracle told them Told them they were doomed But the warning can’t save him The wheels turn too soon
United the tide sweeps across The gry lion makes his stand Fight for every mile lost As the men dwindle before his hand
Deserted by His sunbird The priests legion Still holds the line Courage hangs By a thread What will stop All this death?
The end has come Fate has won The city begins to burn The last men fight and die
Timon has revenge But still they fight To the last loyal man The Gry Lion will stand
The army without number descends on them now Baal’s breath lights the sky terror fills the air They watch their kin burn Lines break upon the onslaught, at the temple they stand The hand of friendship the oracle foresaw The Lion falls on the Sunbird’s sword In the lonely desert the sun sets on the blood hills No memory remains of those great men History has been burned The kindness of the sunbird to the black king The sign of the gods was marked clear on him Their Gods betrayed themTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.