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Ancient moors circle around

The wisp that sucks you in

Breaking you down from the underground

You disappear in the wind

Archaic skeletal monoliths

Drag your body to the crypts

The ritual of Tanaris

There will be no forgiveness

Disturbance of the elements

Is certain cause for death

Their nature is their religion

Your human ways are forbidden

Spirits bleed

From beneath

Ichor seeps

From the deeps

Around the valleys we ride on

To leave your weak people forlorn

Our weapons kill, our spirits haunt

We bleed our victims to the last one

Primitive and deadly wars

Charge to collapse your corrupt laws

Tell me what you're fighting for

When you're on the ground, ripped and torn