Moonbeams touch the soil. Streak of fog surrounds the scene. The eerie wind is howling. A lantern light's the only gleam. . The one-eyed owl is calling.
Before the darkness, before the light. The guardians' soul stood the sands of time. He ruled the void, he ruled the dark. All came to birth, the holy spark.
(T.E. Lawrence). . Born in England, religious raised. A hazy dream the world to face. Indifferent to joy and pain, no measuring. Never ending games. .
[Music: Thilo Hermann]. . [Strings arranged and produced by Ralf Nowy]. . [instrumental]. . Related. . Can You Guess The Song By The Emojis?. . Listen To Taylor Swift's New Song 'Call It What You Want'.
(T.E. Lawrence). . Born in England, religious raised. A hazy dream the world to face. Indifferent to joy and pain, no measuring. Never ending games. .
[Inquisator:]. "John, you have been found guilty of being in league with the. devil and of having used heathen and forbidden rituals.. You will be committed to the purifying fire!.
Peculiar fragrance is all around. Ascent of tranquility, wonderful rest. Motions are slow, emotions are strong. Invisible nightmare's sitting on my chest.
Cold and rapacious we rule it all. The demon crushing your chest. . We watch your despair, your struggle of life. We bet on who's coming best. . Increasing our fortune, choking your breath.
Drinking manners gave his name, empty a tankard all in one. Not afraid of fiend or god, just his look will make them run. Call the crews, we take to sea, bound for Denmark's southern shores.
Spineless and false you are creeping through time. Your flag's turning with the wind, your advantage is prime. Feathering your neat is your one and only law.
Fighting on the TV, the trench war is on. The host is getting greedy, the viewers having fun. Kain is slaying Abel with words below the belt. Insult lives in the fable no truth would ever help.
The sky's swirling black. And choking fog blots out the sun. The last echo is silenced. New dark age has begun. . The countdown was final. Red button ran out of control.
1692, the 29th of May. Sir "Tourville", the admiral, his fleet is on its way. He commands his ships to fight, they attack the british line. He must be caught in senseless pride, to him his honour's prime.
Black shadows and black horses. Dark warriors out of hell. Mighty and evil. Reflection of an ancient tale. . A gang appears beside you. They're the men you have to scare.
Thundering cannon fire is roaring. through the air. They're fighting courageous, driven by despair. Deadly muzzle flash robs them of their pride. Grapuels claw the rail, vessels side by side.
Did you ever see shoes are lying in the streets?. Brand new clothing, a pilgrim with no deeds? No way!. . Did you ever think, who would throw it away?.
A blue and blinding light. Is devouring the dark. Someone must be there, it's no fancy. And no lark. Footsteps trail my moves. I turn around and no one's there.
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The holy sword of fire is burning through the lands. Wisards and witches - their torture never ends. Religious madness creates this hell on earth. The "Holy" inquisition is spreading its curse.
Night is on the city, street lights are burning bright. Pest and sulphur in the air, claiming end of life. Out of dark valleys and rocks comes the Master of Night.