[Persian infantryman :]
Rusty sword brings a certain d**h
A fatal seed on the summit of my lost breath
I dread to see - it's summoned to me
For us the shortest straw!
Now!
[Scythian skirmisher:]
Fever and Plague on the circle of their d**h
Fever and Plague in the wells of d**h
Fever and Plague and the symbols of d**h
[Persian infantryman :]
And a waning Moon rests on their soul locked by a demon - tight
A battle song - better hold on tight
Galloping fast - vindictive souls
[Narrator:]
Absolved of carnage under their mother's sight
[Scythian mother:]
Blessed be their magic soul and their magic sight
And Metis' song is nothing to me
I want the throne and no gods over me!
And now!
[Scythian skirmisher:]
Fever and blades in the circle of their d**h
Screams from my just sword are soaring
Justice of fear this is almost as a Curse!
Take a mother's son - summon the Moon
[Narrator:]
Words sung - in the dark
Commanding d**h!
[Scythian skirmisher:]
Their souls in a circle of d**h
And no one sees that there's not enough breath of life
With their toy swords coming to me
Another failed a**ault
The just sword summoned to me
Another scene of blood - with lust I rub it on me
The shoal and the Seven doth fall
And they shall die!