MemberHot iron rain scorched the hills of our homelands,
Born into pain we were raised by a stone hand,
So many died; but we few have remained.
I knew I'd meet you again.
Run through the night
I'm right behind you
Hide from the light
I'll always find you.
We won't know the name of this dance till it ends.
It's the Warchild's revenge.
Fire lights the sky at the end of our season,
A fine day to die on the altar of reason,
Don't pause for breath; there's no air in this room.
We bite the hand of our doom.
Look at my face
It's last you'll see
Here in this place
Built of misery.
At last we find out what it means to be friends.
It's the Warchild's revenge.
Born into pain we were raised by a stone hand,
So many died; but we few have remained.
I knew I'd meet you again.
Run through the night
I'm right behind you
Hide from the light
I'll always find you.
We won't know the name of this dance till it ends.
It's the Warchild's revenge.
Fire lights the sky at the end of our season,
A fine day to die on the altar of reason,
Don't pause for breath; there's no air in this room.
We bite the hand of our doom.
Look at my face
It's last you'll see
Here in this place
Built of misery.
At last we find out what it means to be friends.
It's the Warchild's revenge.