---

From the northern shore

Where ravens are saints

The marauders sail southward

Towards conquest and rape


Vengeance lay ripe

In their bitter steel hearts

As eagles, they hunt

For tradition is art


Like lightning, they strike

Like gods, they prevail

Like terrors, they howl

and Like children, they wail


The wolves now close in

On the townsfolk, they feast

Conquest is torture

And war becomes peace


Flight of the bewitched

Whisper your curses to me

Flight of the bewitched

In your citadel, I cry


Poison the well

Carry your weight

Offer your children

The marauders wait


In the eyes of a soldier

The longboats run ashore

The arrows seem to fly

With mighty shields and their swords


Children of whores

And the displaced

Strike down your mothers

And slaughter your slaves


Set fire to Idols

Kidnap their wives

The sixth seal is broken

For in it, truth lies


Flight of the bewitched

Whisper your curses to me

Flight of the bewitched

In your citadel, I cry


The hour of wolves

Is upon us at last

Blasphemers now fall

With their scrolls, aghast


False prophets will rise

Their teachings will spread

Their necks will be wrung

And left for the dead


The boils of Earth

Will conceive the wicked few

Their sons and their daughters

Kill what is true



The hands of the titan

Will clench thee with might

Taken from darkness

Their face pours with white


Flight of the bewitched

Whisper your curses to me

Flight of the bewitched

In your citadel, I cry


The runes, now are burning

The red mist is here

The tides, now are turning

Our fate will be clear

---

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