There are true tales of a lost age Throwing anger in the airs As far as I remember, Here's how it starts
It begings by the campfire of a people, Outlaws, foreigners in these lands, Long ago when Gaia was pure
An old man had crossed the dark woods, Hidden, like he was part of the night He uttered these few words, Until he was gone:
"The eagle will fly again, Out of the icy den, To cover the world with a breath of death" Such a curse
Javeelina, protector of the wood, High judge of the treacherous weak Javeelina, high acumen, Erase the roots of our own shackled fate
Her voice, appeased all the spirits, Fallen years when hope outshoned the sun wheel Dwell the name of the Dryad, Javeelina For our cause
Heirs of the winds from the east, Yell your oath in the night, for our cause (in the Hollow Woods) Heirs of the fire from the west, Join the horde and the preachers of doom won't come
Her might, will guide us, Through the lands that lead us towards glory Dwell the name of the Dryad, Javeelina For our cause
Heirs of the winds from the east, Yell your oath in the night, for our cause (in the Hollow Woods) Heirs of the fire from the west, Join the horde and the preachers of doom won't come