High, on high I stand Gazing down to see The endless garden Awating me Red bloometh the rose of conviction And red bloometh the rose of hate Yes red bloometh the rose of conquest Firmly bound to its fate And the war, it wageth on The storm, it rageth on The bold ever fight on Their lives echoed in song Fall, like snow they fall Petals plucked and strewn Yet from their seeds grow This war anew Blood trickling down from my fullers And blood trickling down from my hands Yes, blood trickling down to Hydalen Until I alone stand The war, still wageth on The storn, still rageth on The bold blindly march on Their lives, lost in a song