The Song Of The Tomb - Primordial

From the north to the south

From the east to the west

All that waits for me is the grave

I have been where my brothers lay fallen

And my kind are as slaves

Bloodied yet unbowed

I sing a song of the tomb

Of the cold and heathen earth

Of the Gods that await me I raise a glass in your name

For when the sun rise again

To our deaths like condemned men

This is the twilight of the ages

And no man shall stand

I sing a song of the tomb

Of the cold and heathen earth

With virgin voice to poisoned womb

I call to the shadowed kind

To men of myth, etched in stone

Whose songs are heard no more

The women of the barren lands

This is your time