The Song of Glory

The Song of Glory
Lenghtening spit of cold drags my banner winded alone,
all alone my spirit is the one to comfort my wings of angel sprode
in the legion of dust and lust and just...
my eyes of gray in stone,
acclaiming the mountains of doom.
There is no way out for savage,
carved in a saga of suns whiped off.

This is the song of holy redemption,
this is the ode of glorious savation.
This is the omen of my beloved soul,
this is the note that sinks in a tomb of cold.
Get ready.... doom is near.
God... will judge our sins.
Sinner down beneath the reddest hell of fire and ice.
We will save our minds from hell to heaven.