Текст песни Sic Semper Tyrannis - Elvenking
Sound
the
horns,
grand
is
their
call
Blessing
the
triumph
of
the
battle
Nourished
in
blood,
the
pain
of
us
all
The
outcry
of
our
final
rattles
Rising
in
power,
the
glory
of
our
kings
Soaked
in
their
moral,
shame
and
filth
Sold
for
a
penny
and
sold
for
their
means
We're
bound
to
be
choking
on
all
their
sins
Thus
always
to
tyrants,
inglorious
ride
Sic
semper
tyrannis,
the
devil
and
his
bride
A
gush
of
blood,
settled
our
tales
Written
by
hands
of
a
monster
The
branches
now
rooted
and
grown
on
our
trails
Bloomed
from
the
hurt
of
our
fathers
Rising
in
power,
the
glory
of
our
kings
Soaked
in
their
moral,
shame
and
filth
Sold
for
a
penny
and
sold
for
their
means
We're
bound
to
be
choking
on
all
their
sins
Thus
always
to
Tyrants,
inglorious
ride
Sic
semper
Tyrannis,
the
devil
and
his
bride
"They
will
hang
from
the
oldest
oak
on
morrow
And
a
pale
moon'll
light
the
sky
Their
necks
will
crack
– no
one'll
feel
any
sorrow
And
a
crooked
cross
will
stand
there
wry"
Nightfall
– this
will
be
their
last
nightfall
Nightfall
– this
will
be
their
last
nightfall
Thus
always
to
tyrants,
inglorious
ride
Sic
semper
tyrannis,
the
devil
and
his
bride
"They
will
hang
from
the
oldest
oak
on
morrow
And
a
pale
moon'll
light
the
sky
Their
necks
will
crack
– no
one'll
feel
any
sorrow
And
a
crooked
cross
will
stand
there
wry"
Nightfall
– this
will
be
their
last
nightfall
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