Altaria. Wrath Of A Warchild. Zeneszám

From a land of frozen hearts
The messenger arrived
To tell them tears had turned to steel
And all the dreams had turned to dust

Then came the drums of thunder
With pain and despair
And after it all was over
Something remained

The name of the game is war

The wrath of a warchild
The anger inside keeps calling thee
The wrath of a warchild
The lord of the dark will set you free


Deep in the shadows of the night
The forces will hide out
Until it's time to lose control
Of the burning flame inside

Swords made of glowing metal
Striking the cross
At the throne of an evil nation
Nothing is lost