Near Traitors’ Gate
A host of the willing few
Gathers at the traitors’ gate
Demanding their pound of flesh
And their weight in gold
— Primordial
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A host of the willing few
Gathers at the traitors’ gate
Demanding their pound of flesh
And their weight in gold
— Primordial
“And you trade in his blood
Writing your history
In the sacrifices of the dead
Where is the fighting Man?
Am I he?
You would trade every truth
For hollow victories
And every empire will fall
Every monument crumble
Forgotten men who watch
Who watch the centuries” — Primordial, “Empire Falls”
This is my church
It stands so tall
Proud
And has done
For all time
It has no walls
Yet its vast halls
Reach from shore to shore