Death Toll

Listen close to all i say

This is the end

This land is grey

The words we face

In death

In grace

They flow and find our souls

In kind

We are the dew that weep from them

The land

The dirt

The earth

The band

The bards of old will speak

Will sing

To us of ours

The bells will ring

The lords of night will mark

The world

The moon will spark

The dark


We’ll know what lies within


We’ll find ourselves in debt

In doubt

The days will come

And pass

The time

The hour will rise

When we will rhyme

Again and then

We’ll know the tale

Of blood and bane

Of hell

Of hail


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