From the recording The Hills Will Burn

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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