Rise to hill, hill no high, but high enough to cover your tommorrow.
Race the war, war to lands, lands unborn from your wrath.

You'll find your way among where corpses lay!
Among century of bleak.

Lay the fiends, to their means, purge the light from their mind.
Born the hate, from their maze, from despair of their grace.

From despair of their grace.
Among where plague rage.

Purge the light from the man.
Brake through their existence.
Their resistance.

You'll find your way among where corpses lay!
Among century of bleak.