A Voice Born Of Stone And Dust

From the dust, assembling formLashing out with flint and boneMatted furs, rotting hidesWithered skin, black pits for eyesIn ancient days we stopped the iceWe crushed the Jhag at gruesome priceNow we must heed the First Sword's callHis wrath is kindled, a doom must fallSevered from deathWe march, we marchBound to the throneWe march, we marchCursed by TellannWe march, we marchWarriors of boneWe marchWe cry to the blood-red sun in a voice born of stone and dustA ritual to bind our raceIn vast undeath, our severed fatesThe sorcery of shamans oldTo ever hunt the lords of coldWe drift within the sands of wrathThe wielders of the fire's pathAn ancient magicElderbound, bloodbound, earthboundSevered from deathWe march, we marchBound to the throneWe march, we marchCursed by TellannWe march, we marchWarriors of boneWe marchWe cry to the blood-red sun in a voice born of stone and dustSpell of sorrowSpell of mightBreath of fireEndless iceWe cry to the blood-red sun in a voice born of stone and dust