Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Emperor's Light, artist - Dan Bull.
Date of issue: 14.12.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
The Emperor's Light |
Darkness, closing in on all sides |
I guess, we’re in for a wild ride |
Chance is, whether we live or die |
We will return, to the emperor’s light |
We gaze on a blazing Cadia, and the remains, of they who stayed there |
We’ll take this to the great rift, crusade against invaders here |
If there’s a beaten path, we’ll stray off, 'til we’ve beaten back the chaos |
In an aggrieved imperium, only the really grievous tactics pay off |
We’ve strolled so far, from Ultramar, we might just fall apart |
Hope those bolts will hold, and won’t just blow, like Bolter blasts |
False alarm, of course we’ll force your arm, and cause some harm |
On course, to fill corroded souls with holes, like some unholy autograph |
Giving scars, to the darkest of Eldar, killing Drukhari, for Marneus Calgar |
Certain angels are dark, and have fell far, but we’re still fighting, |
with half of our health bar |
No healing baths, for the shell shock, this rift’s pretty far from a health spa |
At most, no stars on hotels, our apartments are just kind of a cell block |
Is that a battle barge |
Or in fact a massive Travelodge? |
Hear the battle cry of a natural god |
I can ride no handle bars |
Battle scarred, I’ve battled hard |
Putting Maggotkin back in the tackle box |
Like an atom bomb, to a cattle prod |
My knack for rhyme’s, an actual farce |
Darkness, closing in on all sides |
I guess, we’re in for a wild ride |
Chance is, whether we live or die |
We will return, to the emperor’s light |
They are, tearing holes through our hull |
Chaos, like a bolt to a skull |
Pray now, that our resolve will hold |
'Til we’re nothing but a floating hulk |
These watchers are heartless, see us lost in the darkness, for real nothing can |
startle us |
The fleet suffered losses, and countless of us are carcasses, officers downed |
While hostiles surround us, we’re indomitable, these are just common encounters |
We will not run aground, you’ll hear historiters tell of us, chronicles |
troubled with doubt |
But one thing is obvious now: we’re the ones you struggle without |
For forty-one thousand orbits around Sol, we’ll assault 'til the warp is our |
realm |
'Til the souls of our foes all drown, or fall to the ground, it’s our ultimate |
vow |
We’re the Ultramarines, the emperor’s sword is unsheathed |
On any unfortunate beings, resulting to means, that insult or demean, |
our dearest leader |
You’ll feel the fear, as fleets of soldiers elite, appear from Ether |
Peer beneath the sole of your feet, and see the ground just melt around you |
A planet’s skull is weak, but the soil beneath it is bounteous |
So count your blessings, lest you get a dressing down, form Adepta Sororitas |
Intercepting heretical horrors, prevent them assembling followers |
The sisters of battles' particular knack, is for pimping out tanks, |
into Sistine Chapels |
Similarly, send me sixteen smilies, I’ll send back sixteen pristine raptures |
Fear not, there’s a reason we were sent here |
Xenos, and Ezekyle’s demons needing censure |
We will, never sleep, never surrender |
We’ll keep defeating heathen legions, if it please our dear emperor |
Darkness, closing in on all sides |
I guess, we’re in for a wild ride |
Chance is, whether we live or die |
We will return, to the emperor’s light |
Will war and terror be, all you ever see? |
It’s been this way, since the Horus Heresy |
Even in space there were walls of enemies |
The more the merrier, bring them all, I’m ready chief |
We’re done with talking, send a couple of Thunderhawks in |
Come on, we’re going to lunge at Gork’s Grin, and shove a cork in |
We brought in reinforcements, the important names of ages |
Whose stories of warding Horus’s forces, adorn the Black Library’s pages |
Are we giving up? |
Not today, one last shot through the lost crusade |
This ship will rip through the rift, like a whip to a wrist, or a moth through |
flame |
Who the man? |
Guilliman, barely human now |
Mother Nature’s screwed, no pulling out |
Run around, killing the Tyranid, T’au |
Fill them with rounds, whatever they’re giving, we’re giving it out |
Never giving in, doesn’t matter whether or now |
We’re like imperial fists, digging and giving them hell |
Sticking it out without trigger discipline, trigger finger blistering, ow |
It’s a mystery, how the flipping hell we’re still about, still in the bout |
While they’re ringing the bell, we stick around, stick to our ground |
No dicking around, we’re going to get out the predicament, amid a thickening |
cloud, of sickening sound |
So you better be listening out, particularly well |
Else you’ll be missing out, wow, flipping hell |
Who is the emperor’s chosen poet? |
Well now, there isn’t any doubt |
Darkness, closing in on all sides |
I guess, we’re in for a wild ride |
Chance is, whether we live or die |
We will return, to the emperor’s light |
Darkness, closing in on all sides |
I guess, we’re in for a wild ride |
Chance is, whether we live or die |
We will return, to the emperor’s light |