The Rising Of The Dark Lord (Pagan Altar)

The beasts of Hell just lick his hand All creatures from forgotten lands Long lost worlds with spires of gold Where the land was cleft and auroras rolled. Purple skies all streaked with green A landscape fit for a thousand dreams Seas of fire with sulphur spray The Dark Lords labyrinth hide away. From long dead Charne or ancient Mu' His army comes in search of you Dead or undead can't eternal lie With passing eons even death may die. Crushing what he caused in play The chaos would blow earths dust away Mutants would roam the desolate sphere Haunters of the dark all men would fear And so the Dark Lord legend goes But what form he will take no one knows. It may be in mans image who can say This master of the Machiavellian ways Look to your heart to what you hold dear The last ring is trust so keep it near. Don't let him have the last ring. Let Mordor keep it's shadowy king Don't let him have the last ring. Let Mordor keep it's shadowy king Don't let him have the last ring. Let Mordor keep it's shadowy king