Can we [bad word] claim that war isn't the heart unchained
 The will and the action performed in their purest form
 As reach of god's arm is always the blade of his followers
 This was and ever shall be the writ of the sword

 Hard is toll of life's decay,
 with breaths withering we all shall pay,
 see [bad word] thinner by the day
 wealth falls to dust on winding way

 Why returns a man,
 to field where he fell
 barrows he fears less than a single farewell
 Why kneels a man,
 [bad word] of one throne,
 when blood of her sons did build it alone

 First to reave, blood cleanse the grief
 No dust drown the hate nor guilt shall relieve
 Why then are my dreams of war
 And war dreams of me

 Witness, the writ of sword

 In guise of man and his law
 Redeem the road beneath us all

 Banner clad spears in thousands wreath
 Fallen seethe on hooves beneath
 Horns blow the length of man's breath
 Ride the path to gates of death
 the writ of the sword