In the depth of marble hall,
With statues standing high and tall;
Where glass and gold in darkness dwell
Deep in slumber, one can tell.
There is a throne all cold and black,
Old as the world but not a crack.
On the throne is dormant Lord,
So deadly tired of his sword.
Ghostlike whispers from behind
Lull him to sleep to rest his mind.
The thickest furs can't keep at bay
The Northern winds and shadow play.
In shapeless figures he can see
Who he was and what he'll be.
Almost penetrates the walls
The sound of battles in the halls,
The smell of blood, the bites of frost,
The memories of gained and lost.
In the blackest corner the
We've lost the battle and we will lose the war
Tell me what we are still fighting for
Nothing ahead, chilled to the bone
And we will continue to walk alone
I'll leave my gun and say a prayer
For a little sweet betrayer
What we began we will never end
On this solemn cruel land
Our wounds remain raw
Tell me what we should speak for
In the depth of marble hall,
With statues standing high and tall;
Where glass and gold in darkness dwell
Deep in slumber, one can tell.
There is a throne all cold and black,
Old as the world but not a crack.
On the throne is dormant Lord,
So deadly tired of his sword.
Ghostlike whispers from behind
Lull him to sleep to rest his mind.
The thickest furs can't keep at bay
The Northern winds and shadow play.
In shapeless figures he can see
Who he was and what he'll be.
Almost penetrates the walls
The sound of battles in the halls,
The smell of blood, the bites of frost,
The memories of gained and lost.
In the blackest corner the
We've lost the battle and we will lose the war
Tell me what we are still fighting for
Nothing ahead, chilled to the bone
And we will continue to walk alone
I'll leave my gun and say a prayer
For a little sweet betrayer
What we began we will never end
On this solemn cruel land
Our wounds remain raw
Tell me what we should speak for