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March Of The Dead

Split Heaven

In the lair of the devil, the dead are marching on
With no fear to the archangel, the red smokes surround the horde
Legions with sharpened axes, leading armies of madness
Shields of skulls in the front lines, prepare the way of war

The dead are walking, the king is conquering!
The dead are walking, the king is conquering!
Running wild dodging arrows, eluding fireballs
Shining blades are unsheathing, burning corpses lying on the floor

The dead are walking, the king is conquering!
The dead are walking, the king is conquering!
The dead are walking, the king is conquering!
The dead are walking, the king is conquering!