On the rise of a new dawning I gaze upon a pagan mass Who cry in tones of victory And hail their Gods in the skies Their shields and armor are glittering Under the heat of a heathen Sun Their hearts race with the pride To follow their fathers long gone
The blades of the weapons are bloody Wet with fresh christian blood Storming through the battlefields For the pantheon of their Gods They march through the fields of glory On which they've led so many lives They ride their steeds to new frontiers Forever more in the night...
Ahhh... Marching of the Hordes... Against a sky tinted crimson red Over the blood soaked meadows Through the ashes of the Shamanic Flames From the Anatolian Shadows...