Oh off now 
The call sounds near  [bad word] now, they won't find us here 

In scorn they will burn! 
...Once again it repeats 
For thousands of years 
Rain has shrouded our fears 

Pawns disregard the ebb and flow 
Overcrowded the stage has [bad word] 
The human condition begs for more and mercy 

Oh will you find a place within the vale? 
Will you drift in discordant breeze? 
The native soul will be lost in time 
Our stage of bedlam forlorned 

Blackness, darkness afar 
In plumes they posture 
With forboding nature 
They claw at the sun 

We wait for the end 

Reform 
The heart now stands clear  [bad word] now, they won't harm us here 

The event of roaring decimation 
Will swallow the earth and 
Bring it to it's knees 
The oil in the mud 
Is boiling the blood of our sanctuary 
These demons of iron will surely pay! 

Stirring forth 
Reclaim the land 
From seeds sown 
Gaia climbs again! 
 [bad word] grows up 
'Til we meet the sky 
Away from here 

Fel winds bring 
Self-immolation 
They will fail to find their abode 

We wait for the end 
We wait for the end of days  [bad word] and save us all 
We are the ones who need it most 
To fix our minds on the unknown