From the eyes of the undying...
From the eyes of the undying...
From the eyes of the undying...
So, they come to mop the fields of war
So, they come to clean the shields and gore
So, when all the screams and cries are spent
When the swords and shields and men are rent
Time and will and pride taken thrall
The three scour the wastes to reap from the fall
So, the spire of Fate wends, calls the holy sands
All men run, in vain, from the Morrígan