thousands of conquered lands shining under the imperial sun we who are about to die won t salute you and no victis honor to the fallen ones a call for encore from far away o here we stand figures of a game on torrid sand gird yourself for the next round of battles for the need of excitement and another glorious parade we lay here dying appealing our fate countless are the chosen few who stood fast concealing their fear in the great uproar of cheers when the die is cast there s a beast of cruelty creeping all over the land nameless are the ones who were begging to live begging to save their lives in a futile dream of a noble state for only power could conquer fate all it leaves is blood and dust on the ground storm clouds thunder in unison with the crowd a call for encore from far away screaming for more from far away oh here we stand figures of a game on torrid sand oh here we go torturing our souls on torrid sand
['celtic metal', 'folk black metal', 'folk metal', 'german melodeath', 'german metal', 'melodic death metal', 'viking metal']