Of Death

Beneath the northern lights we rideThe dark lord will guide usTorches held highWe will kill everything livingThere's nowhere to runThe smell of death filling the air harvest begunLegionsOf deathOn a questWe are obsessedLegionsOf deathWe areObsessed with deathBlood is raining from the skiesRed painted corpses the dead will ariseInfected with hatred and strength: some in denialThe smell of death fills the air: slay your ritualLegionsOf deathOn a questWe are obsessedLegionsOf deathWe areObsessed with deathBeneath the northern lights we rideThe oceans have frozen, nothing aliveWe will forever patrol, we won't restWe are the legions of death on our questLegionsOf deathOn a questWe are obsessedLegionsOf deathWe areObsessed with death