Hark the Herald

No lyrics have been submitted for this track yet.

Riding hell's barren wastes on my steed, this host of monsters are my creed, and in battle we shall bleed. Bring me the head of Metatron! We tally for the cup of christ - the Holy Grail - in my battle armour and chain mail - when the wind blows we shall set sail Bring me the head of Metatron! Where does he dwell? No-one can tell, but its north of the citadel of Londinium. Grand master of lies, dispatching his spies south to the Castle of Rhydian... North we shall ride, steel at my side, an order from the Knights of Malta. Too long he has sat on his throne of mockery, when we meet, there shall be slaughter! Bring me the the head of Metatron - Now!

Submitted by Grave666 — Apr 26, 2025

Percival! Hark the call! Venture forth! Seek the grail! Travel wide! Seek the land of the king who was wounded! Sir Percival - seek the bleeding lance and mend the broken sword Look for the isle of Avalon and seek the wounded king and heal the wasted land It takes more than strength, you need pure heart to recover what was lost Persevere, learnest thee; what is the secret of the grail? Land and King - Heal as one! Sharpen why wits and bleed thy heart for the question shall be asked Thy quest doth not bring happiness, but the land shall surely die unless The holy grail is found It takes more than strength, you need pure heart to recover what was lost

Submitted by NecroGod — Apr 26, 2025

"...I made the contrary declaration only to suspend the excessive pains of torture, and to mollify those who made me endure them..." Grand Master - 33rd degree, did take to the grave his masonry He left his mark on the Turin shroud, but was burnt alive for the parisian crowd Denied the christ, trampled the cross, rode to jerusalem on his horse. At the stake, he renounced his lies - the smoke left hanging in the skies Jacques De Molay! Thou art avenged Jacques De Molay! For tis friday the 13th today. The royal blood they did chasten, for the execution of this mason Jacques De Molay! "...The life offered me on such infamous terms, I abandon without regret..." They buried the mighty heretics, these Templars with their magic tricks. But fire's freedom laughed the last, and echoes loudly from the past.

Submitted by Cyberwaste — Apr 26, 2025

Kill! Burn! Waste the wenches! Hark the herald! The King wants blood! Hark the herald, the war drums beating. Hark the call - the call to arms! Sally forth and no retreating, saddle thy horse, raise the alarm! The king hath decreed us knights do battle for the honour of his fair queen Now we ride to meet the brutes on their own ground; mace, steel and lance has vengeance found! Kill! Burn! Waste the wenches! Hark the herald! The King wants blood! Deep entrenched, Lord Asquith is hiding in his fort, portcullis is down. Lay siege will we, and yeild will he, to declare the innocence of our queen (the whore!) Kill! Burn! Waste the wenches! Hark the herald! The King wants blood! Women crying - Witches saying Banners flying - Knights dying!

Submitted by Infernal Flame — Apr 26, 2025

More than simple superstition, the blood-line survived the crucifixion The hospitaler knights of St Jogn, they hid the secret holy spawn Da Vinci left a hidden trail to holy blood and holy grail The christ indeed had kith and kin Born from the womb of Magdelene Initiate of illumination, Da Vinci left the clues Of christ's secret blood-relation, the royalty of the jews Da Vinci left a hidden trail to holy blood and holy grail The christ indeed had kith and kin Born from the womb of Magdelene The truth threatens the Roman cult, so the pontiffs hid the youth Only adepts of all things occult come close to find the truth...

Submitted by MetalElf — Apr 26, 2025