The Song of the Tomb

From the north to the south
 From the east to the west
 All that waits for me is the grave
 I have been where my brothers lay fallen
 And my kind are as slaves 

Bloodied yet unbowed
 I sing a song of the tomb
 Of the cold and heathen earth
 Of the Gods that await me
 I raise a glass in your name 

For when the sun rise again
 To our deaths like condemned men 

This is the twilight of the ages
 And no man shall stand 

I sing a song of the tomb
 Of the cold and heathen earth
 With virgin voice to poisoned womb
 I call to the shadowed kind
 To men of myth, etched in stone
 Whose songs are heard no more
 The women of the barren lands
 This is your time