Mounting chivalry grand as never seen Legions of the Drakèe, warriors from the West The flattinghammer of the armies Proudly make a one to ten war look like a flogging
Thirty four years of wandering, on a world filled with Mystery But thus is my destiny, which I shall not forsake For what comes when I complete these preparations, is glory
Something there in is in beauty and it lies in the soul of the beholder, like a flower, fragile, for many are the blights that may waste the beauty or the beholder and imperishable, for the beauty may die, or the beholder may die, or the world may die
Thirty six years, I have not seen She-who-carries-my-heart-and-doth-not-do-it The soul in which the flower grows survives forever
With a dragon's blaze (x2)
Clashing majestuously Making destruction and death an art They wield their swords as thunder wields the lightning Impeccably and state of the art
Ages have passed Their names have dimmed And their words have fled