Warriors Of The Dark - Brocas Helm



The wind is made of thunder

The dark is made of dreams

The wizards ride the hills tonight

Doing battle with electric screams



And against a spear of lightning

A figure rides the stars

His steed a dragon red and gold

His weapon a black guitar



My fingers played like hellfire

As I played the killing chord

The dragon screams and falls from sky

As if pierced by magic sword



But it's rider find a stabbing note

Before they crash to flame

I am caught in a mighty storm of devils in my brain



Warriors of the dark



[Repeat]



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