On the glory path
Follower of the blazing
The time has begun!
To search for the Deamon.
To Sly the old Lich:
The son of bitch;
Unlife of a bitch .
The fearful is dazing,
The blood have to run.
No wait, it?s this the aeon!
Of glory my heart will be rich.
Jumping the fool at my side,
Bright sharpen & fixed are his eyes,
Running as fast as my horse rides.
He\'s aimin? my coming by insane cries.
So, carrying the cutting head sacles he
Leave red bleedin? streams at my back.
Whirpool of colours he wear,
enchanted the childly gazes of beholders.
Faith & Madness are his swear,
Twisted ribbons bell the Death Bringer Hymn.
The Deamon & Beasts have to be hunted!
Dark necklace nails & Blackest cloak hair?
So Power & Honour to saviours are Granted.
