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Surge Domine et dissepentur inimici tu et fugiant qui oderunt te a facie tua...

This is a tale that starts upon a hill in Hammerwych
in the folded dales of Saxon Mercia
passed by on countless days
so many never knew that place
was once where armies rode before a conqueror
from legions shadows rose the spectre of a heathen king
dark as dragons blood and deep as ocean floor
feared by all the kings who'd sold themselves to cross and gold
he the last of them would hold against them all

I am the overlord the hated king
I am the overlord the Mercian king

And around him were the armies of the new wave
with the blessing of the rich and rising church
their golden banners shields and swords
they shone with righteousness
as they marched upon the lands of Mercia
But on that day it seems that near this hill in Hammerwych
a legion lost its fight to crush the pagan king
and from their shields were torn
their gold and precious jewel inlays
and tossed into the earth
a bent and folded cross

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Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.