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Arise, Templars, Arise!
Heretic Knights of the East...Undead Horrors!
Blind centuries of debauchery and death are theirs...
From their Spanish tombs to Babylon are they called...
To seek out the eldritch frimoire: the Necronomicon
To usher forth the hungry End, the end of Time
They would gaze upon the Sun as it turns black
And so upon cadaverous horses, The Blind Dead ride!

Under a death-white moon, they ride...
For the unspeakable Book, they ride...
Beyond reality's thin veil, they ride...
Into blackest oblivion, they ride...
They ride...

The Book unearthed, the rites need the rarest blood
And so hunted are nightmares, dreadful and ghastly
Daninsky, Orloff, the Matres - nothing but prey!
Spells are cast from aged pages, the sacrificed made
The wind howls as the infinite Void yawns agape
The Old Ones have come, grand and obscene!
From the Templars' dead eyes do tentacles unfurl
As their skeleton maws shake with insane laughter...

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