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Storm riders from the sky

Stygian knights on black horizons

Dying lands, a breath away

In northern realms of bitter cold

Eroded spires on towers of old

Ancient fields of battle below

The sky it burns with fumes of blood

The sky is ours

Few cowards stride into the heart of darkness

Few eagles fly where ravens dare

We consume the dying flesh

We consume the rotting eyes

We are the constellations

We are the lurking terror

Warriors of old

Together as one

Flags and banners

Ride the wind

A murder of ravens

Together as one

Will guide our path

Onward to triumph march!

Few cowards stride into the heart of darkness

Few eagles fly where ravens dare

Behold…

The sky is ours

The sky is ours

The sky is ours