The lords of the passes are arming their vassals
You'll find no shelter that way
The conscripts they've taken have never returned

And our hopes fade with each passing day

The gates of the keeps are all closing

And broken men wander the road
The farmers have fled to the forests
Burning their fields as they go


The dukes of the marches have ordered their archers
To shoot all outlanders on sight

Turn back your horses before it's too late
There'll be no safe crossing this night


Hear the horns, pounding hooves
Visions of cities aflame
Wailing cries, dawn of doom

Die by the sword or in chains

Men kneel in temples of madness

False prophets spread discord and fear
Darkness descends once again
They say the lords of the last days rule here