The Vagabond's Return
Furtive outlander, it is you who holds the key.
The crystal gates shall never reopen, bewail to all your greed.
Cast out many moons ago, why dare to reappear?
Stand before our kind and leave the world behind
The final exit is near.
We come to free our king
Golden shields Marching forth
Prophet decipher, the omens in feverish dreams
Through divinations of mystic vibrations
The teller reveals the scene
Visions of an endless horde, shrouded ethereal glow
crestfallen lepers, once seraphim sherpherds
Unfurl their blackened wings
We come to free our king
Golden shields Marching forth
In the final hour the vagabond will appear
His light reflects on gold and steel