Smoke The Erb
de Striborg
Into the battle of hate
blood on my sword touch the ground
across the thornfields to the caves
bloodstained walls coat the stone
Screams of anguish i'm in pain
lost souls dwell in the grave
untouched for centries in damnation
walk unto thee the rising dead
My jounrey will never end
into the balttle i will ride
riding the skies of poisened death
unto me grant me my wish
Across the thornfields a land of hate
gorse covered treees of fern and wattle trying to escape
the cold moon does freeze my face
forever possessed by the ancient one
To pass all knowledge down by hand
to reap the harvest of many man
misanthrope being the cause of isolation
back stabbing slaughter from my bloody ruins
Solitude eternal i strive to survive
diseased man thus walk this sacred ground
with black deaths hand shall cut their throats
upon the alter of rapacious blood
Repeat verses 4 & 5
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