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| So many men have fallen So many more must die Cut down like wheat beneath a scythe And though our limbs may weary Of ripping, slashing, cleaving blows We face an endless host of foes How heavy this axe Burden carried from birth Wrought in stygian visions By the gods of the earth Upon the hallowed mountain The gods convene To mourn the death of our ancient queen Keepers of sacred fire Awaken from your sleep Drink from the cup of memory How heavy this axe Burden carried from birth Wrought in stygian visions By the gods of the earth |
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