She was the in the lands to the south, beauty so blinding that men not see, a smile tales of angels, enthralling the men so they to their knees.
To the of the mountains, thirsty of brew, a heathen with the of ten bears. Slaying crusaders 'till the strikes. Setting his heart on a in the south.
Who'd have thought I'd for a heathen, but he is the man in my heart.
Can this love be Our worlds collide On opposite of a war we are chained We'll break the and taint our It is not tainted when the is pure.
I am a heathen, or so I am by the mob - the masses that kneel down in I consumed the most bitter of wine The wine of defeat and
On the fields of our mothers, the ground is now in the blood of the who died for our home. Our was shattered, in pain we are left The vile stench of this will not fade.
A man in my heart that my own won't a devil is made of his The men of my kin that my heart won't the must be in the past
Can this be nurtured Our will collide On sides of a war we are chained Our own break us and spoil what we We can not stay where the breed hate.
On her way, she's merry So merry, so full of joy and of Wondering, he embrace me?
the top, At she can see the valley,- The where lover is awaiting in lust But thoughts of their families makes her mind and heart She is so weary, a is in sight. A nice place to rest before they their night. In the reflection a shadow appears.
A relentless legion to the fate of our kin Crawl under it's in the blood-pool of treason, and sin Let the bloodshed of tyrants
Can hate be nurtured Our worlds did On opposite sides of a war we were I'll break wills And their blood It is not when the hate is pure.
Kneel and receive your salvation from (repeat)