Have they ever heard What we have done The fallen children Holocausts and heroes Broken ones And haunted buildings Every offering In honor of Their deepest knowing Seeds just cast away On barren ground But slowly growing Growing on and on Growing on and on Growing on and on Genius buried low In drifts of snow By grasping fingers Soldiers marching on Inspired by Unholy singers Spectres rising by The crimson light Of burning torches Angels close their eyes Struck silent by The things that spell dusk Seen by the saints in the clouds What will become of us now The four horsemen entombed in shrouds What else could we think about Called from cauldrons by The ancient ones To do their bidding Blackened landscapes Couldn't stop them Flowering and living Embraced solely by The chosen ones Who heard the calling Monuments that shall Stay standing 'til Our world has fallen