[music: Andreas Funke & Midwinter]
[lyrics: Andreas Funke]
Our will brought them down
By history drowned
To ruins their realm
All wail to my ear
Who wasted and spent countless lives on command
Now no more lords of the world
They who pursed-proud with power
Their wealth and their smell
Defeated by slaves
In our victory-hour
Rose to high like a child on a swing
Pomp pulled to hard at their wings
Used to ride the day
Through the lands of green,
Yet the land's turned grey
And the days cold and mean.
Escape reverie -
Wake up dead from your dream.
Has been gone a while,
Lies our way ahead.
Spare the ripened wine,
Drink stale water instead
Let them regret -
We'll take back what we had
That poor, dried out the land
Work hard on the soil
Work 'stead of rhyming
Rhyme 'stead of laughing
Laugh 'stead of rotting, nothing's forgotten
But we won't walk the road you descended
Used to ride the day ...
I saw a time full of grief with my own mortal eyes
Hold me tonight
Then let me tell 'bout the pain and an age that had died
Like they feel now, we had felt when we fell on the fields
Like they cry now, we'd cried when they broke our shields
Return and pay back for wounds never healed
We're free from guilt for they challenged their fate to be sealed
I saw a time full of violence and cruelty
Hold me maybe
Then let me tell how we rose, fought and died to be free
Fearless and fierce as possible as men can be
Righteous claims in our backs, with us morality
Would we have died in the dawn we'd have lived finally
We won't forgive our suppressers - Never!
We've sentenced them all to be trivial forever
They're dust on the water, by the wind turning
Rather drowning than burning
Separate the crossed Spartacus
From criminals, messiahs
Hold the true martyrs high as
For us they have died
A Golden Age to raise on the lost
In freedom of leaders and gods
We will ride our way
To the lands of green.
Lest until that day
We forget our dreams
For we're all slaves
Born with hearts to redeem
Trust the lines you've heard,
Hear the words I said.
Cease from eating dirt,
We drink ale instead
To the time we've had,
To a time coming
Back to a world which's not worth to be hold in esteem.