From the top of the hill
He scans the horizon
Witnessing the march of two masses
About to collide

What will be left of us?
When we'll be dead for your cause
Will you remember us?
When you'll raise your crown

He's the harvester of souls
Lurking in the shadow

I can hear the drums in the distance
The wind is blowing harder
Just before the attack

What will remain of our memories?
When on the throne
The gold will shine
Reddened by the blood of the men

The storm stokes the rage of men
Changing their face into death masks
Each move brings the pain
Pulling out their feet from the icy mud

Butchery knows his time of glory
When the golden eagles get trampled
The eyes of wolves shine in this cold night
Chimaeras and ravens slowly awake from the stones

They'll be mine!
Faithful souls on my side!

“Vocavi vos a mortuis
Trado arbitrium ultionis
Jungere hunc nos
Mutate vos animalia noctis
Dabo salve vobis
Dabo potestatem vobis
Venite ad me fideles bellatores
Non timedis dolor“

You will remember us
When you'll be praying for compassion
You'll feel sorry but not us
When we'll show our fangs

We feed us from your fear
Revenge is our glory
The cold has shielded our hearts
We forgot the pity

There is no chance to escape
To leave our darkness

I welcome the dead
Those died in vain
For a promise made
I welcome the dead

Wolves to hunt them down…
Chimaeras, to smash them up…
Ravens, to tear them apart…
We are our legion

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