They lead the horses to the field
The trumpets sound the call
All in all, what a glorious way to die
Stand in glory for the king
And the coming times of peace
The murmurs cease as the royal banners fly
Summon the captain of the guard
In battle he is held in great regard
An honor to joust with a king for the glory it brings, and the fear
Of the words of the witch who claims that death is growing near
Who claims that death is growing near
Let no man interfere!
Valor... on the field
The silver gauntlets grip the shield
Silence pierces the helm of the king of the realm
Galloping towards the lance
It's a deadly game of chance
Danger approaches the helm of the king of the realm
The splinters pierce the golden shield
Today a king will fall
The wound is small, but his strength begins to fail
Call the healer to the field
The smell of blood is in the air
The cries and prayers, will they be to no avail?
His death will greet him slow and cruel
The ending of a long and bloody rule
Live by the sword and the lance and there's always a chance that you'll hear
The decree of the witch who claims that death is growing near
Two wounds, into one
The final hours have begun
The strength falls from the hand of the king of the land
Mind fills with regret
Of foes and battles never met
But the reaper hears no command from the king of the land