a mighty warrior Driven by desire Glory calls, its waiting for you. When they try to break you down You can take it That don't shake you When your
heroes were men of great deed They paid the price when others had the need There have been times the lions had to roar Those sad dark years when they
, with blank eyes see the corpses you've fought. Our boys have gone away, our boys, Our boys have gone away. Our men have returned all tattered and burned
the fire is burning to its dying embers After the war You thought you'd be a hero after all that you survived If hell was meant for heroes then surely
[Music: Patrick] Do mourn, the glory days are gone Like roaches scattering under a beaming light Run out of history's backstage As your flags burn over
and clung to for dear life Had to burn itself up just to prove it was alive And I caught you then in your moment of glory Your last dramatic scene
dead Now gather round ye animals, gather round this lake And take upon your vigil wallow in the wake It was glorious of glories, a maple April day With
that hell that they called Suvla Bay We were butchered like lambs to the slaughter Johnnie Turk was ready, oh, he primed himself well He rained us with bullets and he showered us with
We could battle til you're bankrupt, fill your tank up Come and see me from my practice, the young baptist With a gun under the mattress, to burn my matches When
this And when we step to the plate Pah it's flawless My man T A S H with styles glory great Great, great great, great great Up next we got CaTash with
Land of the morning Child of the sun returning With fervor burning Thee do our souls adore. Land dear and holy, Cradle of noble heroes, Ne'er shall invaders
't go down for days I got shot and lost my rifle When the first wave hit the rise And the guns rolled out like thunder And the black smoke burned my
the dead. Gather round ye animals. Gather round this lake. Take upon your vigil. Wallow in the wake. It was glorious of glories-a maple April day With
faster when its with mine your a likely story morning glory on the vine there are holy ghosts pushing past the tide they let me know every time you cry your burning
splendor/ the three worlds tremble at your roar. 24. Bhoota pisaacha nikata nahin aawai, Mahaabeera jaba naama sunaawai Ghosts and goblins cannot come near/ Great Hero, when
shuddered, not with fear, but with an awful and night-cold anticipation. [The Emperor Koord:] General Vane, we begin the final siege of this campaign with
had burned upon his mind deep within the Mountains of the Dead. One hope remained to defeat Angsaar, but it would carry with it a most terrible price
