Ancient moors circle around
The wisp that sucks you in
Breaking you down from the underground
You disappear in the wind
Archaic skeletal monoliths
Drag your body to the crypts
The ritual of Tanaris
There will be no forgiveness
Disturbance of the elements
Is certain cause for death
Their nature is their religion
Your human ways are forbidden
Spirits bleed
From beneath
Ichor seeps
From the deeps
Around the valleys we ride on
To leave your weak people forlorn
Our weapons kill, our spirits haunt
We bleed our victims to the last one
Primitive and deadly wars
Charge to collapse your corrupt laws
Tell me what you're fighting for
When you're on the ground, ripped and torn