Like a clap of thunder the army marches
On,
With a deadly thirst for blood, they seek
To do you wrong.
If you dare to fight then meet us on the
Shore,
With my sharpened sword your blood I'll
Bring to pour.
I am not a broot but I do not fear to kill,
And if I don't survive I know it's been god's
Will.
The archers take their place and death is
Raining down,
Every single arrow takes a body to the
Ground.
What a sight it is, to witness such a war,
The next sight that I see could be death
Opening its door.
