Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Emperor's Light , by - Dan Bull. Release date: 14.12.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Emperor's Light , by - Dan Bull. 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 |
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