Circle Of The Tyrants

(альбом: Cause Of Death - 1990)

The battle is over
And the sands drunk the blood
All what there remains
Is the bitterness of delusions

Circle of the tyrants

The immortality of the gods
Sits their side
As they leave the walls behind
To reach the jewel's gleam

Circle of the tyrants

The days have come when the steel will rule
And upon his head a crown of gold
Your hand wields the might
The tyrant's the precursor
You carry the will as the morning is near

I sing the ballads of victory and defeat
I hear the tales of frozen mystery
Your hand wields the might
The tyrants the precursor
You carry the will as the morning is near

The intensive gleam
The new kingdoms rise by the circle of the tyrants
In the land of darkness
The warrior that was me

Grotesque glory
None will ever see them fall
And hunts and wars are like everlasting shadows
Where the winds cannot reach the tyrants might was born
And as I often look back with tears in my eyes

Grotesque glory
None will ever see them fall
And hunts and wars are like ever lasting shadows
Their distant call