War spirits sing
And battle souls cry
Forever they'll live though their bodies have
Died wolves signal storms
As they howl in the night
They strengthen our might
When days are forlorn

Good friends good times!

Divinity defiled

In the darkness I bleed
A blasphemous discipline
Upon which I would feed
The people declared
That I would be the one
Who would venture to the stars
And bow to none

Those who sought the dawn
Became so hollow
They feared to follow
The crimson shadow

The path of the poet
The fist in the skull
The will of the ancients
Bow to vesperia

Big son of a bitch

We have grown so weak with longing
For a life far gone we were strong
But now surrounded by corpses and horses
And the shadow of the westerman

An era when the blind
Sing the sylvan
They speak of days long since gone
And after we have left this world
The ferriman will guide us home