From the recording The Hills Will Burn
Featuring Igor Sokolov on voclas and Joylin on violin
Lyrics
Wind at your back
Arrow in hand
What some see as murder
You see as demand
Rain down, usher in death from above
There is no room for mercy, this is no place for love
They send forth their greatest, but die on their knees
Your arrows the cure, for their disease
Behold the Archer
His message, sent by the gods
As he ushers you to your grave
Black clouds of death bring an end from the sky
Your lifeless content, all they see as they die
You can live as a martyr or die as a king
But remember, hell you will meet
This mistake will, be your last
The steps you take, your chosen path
The sun, now sets on your life
The air you breath tastes stale and cold
Your memories of growing old
Are now, eclipsed by your grave
Back to the ground, from which you came
Break the system
There is blood on your hands
Show your fury
Make clear, your demands
Never to turn back
Never to whisper
or call out her name
Their voices cut through,
But so does the pain
Prayers full of sorrow
Screams that will follow
Behold the Archer
His message, sent by the gods
As he ushers you to your grave
Follow
Send forth your hollow, this city’s demise
Those living in filth, harbour plagues from before
Let the sound only be of their cries
This mistake will, be your last
The steps you take, your chosen path
The sun, now sets on your life
The air you breath tastes stale and cold
Your memories of growing old
Are now, eclipsed by your grave
Never
Will they
Take the castle back
We are here to stay
No turning back
Into the ground from which you came
Behold, the archer
Barron of a stone that reads your name
Behold the archer