They spoke not of fear
But of heroic deeds
They spoke not of horror
But of epic fantasy

They spoke not of grief
But of triumphant joy
They spoke not of pain
But of glorious death

Now must I reveal
The beautiful truth
Come to me, rejoice:
Hear my beautiful truth!

Dark wings painted the skies
When crows to the field did fly
On the ground lay the dead, and the dying
And in pain drowned their cries
While they lay awaiting their demise
The crows did come to pluck their eyes
A feast of flesh birds did enjoy
And in blood did bathe the soil
Dark wings painted the skies
- Ah, the legend never dies!

Sing with me, friend, and rejoice:
Spread their splendid lie!
Sing with me, friend, and rejoice:
The legend shall never die!