Seven Trumpets - Manilla Road



The whirlwind howls my name

My mind soars across the planes

The blood upon the stone

Dried ages ago



And the gods are sleeping

No one left to bow before

Our race has lost it's way

Temples lye in decay

Belial in his lair

Awaits the trumpets blare



And the gods are sleeping

No one left to hear our prayers



The ancient gods are waiting for the call

From the seven trumpets of Altamont

The seas will churn the dead shall rise again

The serpent shall be loosed the rivers all run red



Lords of the lihght awake

Rise up unto your fate

Belial's horde awaits

Open the ancient gates

Sounding the horns of war

It's what you've waited for

Rise up and sleep no more



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