The Spawn of Lost Creation

Memories from a dark, cold age

where life was bound to suffer

blessed with power and blessed with sin

hunting down the ones that infest the wind

arise from hell

and join the crusade

come forth and rise

the banner of hate

remnants from a distant past is all that remains

the glory is lost, but the seed still grows

when the sun fades below the trees

we come on command

as the moon rises upon the hills

follow us far into the past

in a time when the dark is killed

the light

and the sword ruled all

when man was filled with hate

warriors of the night

death is your fate