Azrael

We will fight and win Fight and die
All that ever changes The color of the sky
We will sell our soul We are born to die
A blood-red cross We will give our lives
Wind brings a whisper, A silent melody
A poem of yearning Will it set us free?
Marching on the desert sand
God by our side, steel in our hand
March against Jerusalem We are born to die
Marching through our holy land Deus lo vult, a sacred band
March across the burning sand We are born to die
Azrael
We will stand and fight Stand and fall
A holy crusade
For nothing at all
Blood on our blades Blood on the cross For our god Everything is lost
What is Jerusalem worth Nothing
Everything