| Do you hear it, creaks of the oars?
|
| Do you fear them, rowing in the skies?
|
| Undead warriors that are blessed to fight for eternal spoils of terror and war
|
| How do you kill a spectre with a sword?
|
| They come to rage
|
| They fight with blades
|
| Cold as ice but shears flesh just the same
|
| They soar the night in haunted skies
|
| In their ship of doom
|
| The Geishmal undead
|
| Cursed are the streets
|
| That run red with the blood of children
|
| And the guts of war
|
| The Geishmal undead
|
| They come to rage
|
| They fight with blades
|
| Cold as ice but shears flesh just the same
|
| They soar the night in haunted skies
|
| In their ship of doom
|
| The Geishmal undead
|
| They come to rage
|
| They fight with blades
|
| Cold as ice, shears flesh just the same
|
| They soar the night in haunted skies
|
| Their ship of doom
|
| The Geishmal undead
|
| No spoils were taken
|
| For their own
|
| Pleasure is in the cold-blooded
|
| Slip between flesh and bone
|
| They come to rage
|
| They fight with blades
|
| Cold as ice but shears flesh just the same
|
| They soar the night in haunted skies
|
| In their ship of doom
|
| The Geishmal undead
|
| They come to rage
|
| They fight with blades
|
| Cold as ice, shears flesh just the same
|
| They soar the night in haunted skies
|
| Their ship of doom
|
| The Geishmal undead |