| Barking
|
| Here north and nether he’s bound
|
| And here he dwell
|
| Snarling
|
| At passing ghosts though he guard
|
| The gates of hel
|
| They’re leaving like a funeral procession on the prowl
|
| Behind the hearse of all our hope
|
| Their coming may forebode the end of all wee once held high
|
| Before us darkness gathers
|
| You’ll take the high road
|
| I’ll take the low road
|
| Neither sand stays their striding
|
| Nor does the dark and deep blue sea
|
| Frontlines fell
|
| You’ll take the high road
|
| I’ll take the low road
|
| Turned to stone by the sunrise
|
| Hordes in the distance marching out
|
| The gates of hel
|
| Graven
|
| Under the gathering grime
|
| Statues forgrow
|
| Fieldstones
|
| Before the floodgates of time
|
| Wayfarers flow
|
| Their marching may grow louder than the thunder in the sky
|
| Behind the hearse of all our hope
|
| Our footfalls only fade into the distant future far
|
| You’ll take the high road
|
| I’ll take the low road
|
| Neither sand stays their striding
|
| Nor does the dark and deep blue sea
|
| Frontlines fell
|
| You’ll take the high road
|
| I’ll take the low road
|
| Turned to stone by the sunrise
|
| Hordes in the distance marching out
|
| The gates of hel
|
| They’re leaving like a funeral procession on the prowl
|
| Behind the hearse of all our hope
|
| Their coming may forebode the end of all wee once held high
|
| Before us darkness gathers
|
| You’ll take the high road
|
| I’ll take the low road
|
| Neither sand stays their striding
|
| Nor does the dark and deep blue sea
|
| Frontlines fell
|
| You’ll take the high road
|
| I’ll take the low road
|
| Turned to stone by the sunrise
|
| Hordes in the distance marching out
|
| The gates of hel |