the eater of shadows the one who bears the scythe our true master we held your banner high through crashing thunder galloping through the night on the hunt for souls of men who proudly serve the light you will abandon all your faith in the presence of our masters blade (no god can save) ripping through the night, and hell followed with the crown of death placed upon the brim the of the world our true master we held your banner high in praise of the one who bears the scythe our god of death we worship at your feet in praise of thee ancient sorcery