Spectres of the Ancient World Lyrics

Beneath the dim of the moon's hoary light,
they await and assemble their force.
Wrapped in death shrouds, chainmail gleams on bone,
helmeted skulls seek to behold.
The stench of grave leather and dread tempered steel,
the malignant gaze of their eyes.
Up through the valley where thousands impaled,
the forests are flaming yet the night hordes
await for the sign.

The sign to ride,
from voids beyond the sundered stars.
From graves, from hell, from plundered vaults arise.
On the strident form of dragon wings,
deaths head march with flaming hearts,
from shadows and darkness,
fear the wrath of dark gods.

Bow thy head in devotion to the master of this world,
hear his grave song, the wail of piping madmen,
in a world gone mad from the fear of death,
we gleefully open our veins,
to venerate the dark blood,
for we are the will of the gods.

Pale death comes sweeping from frozen land to burning sea,
The axe has now fallen, the great end is nigh, and the guardians await. Eternally.

Thorns embrace me, grant me the sweet kiss of death.
Silence possess me, release me from the bonds of the flesh.