The king is dead
Running through the agesInto a time which now is the pastBeheld to forces fighting (?)This day would be his last
Through walls of fire walkingA king amongst his menThrough walls of fire walkingThis journey had no end
The skies are ripped asunderBy the gunfire from belowA visit to the frontlineFor the king a place to go
November night is callingIn the wind is word of deathA bullet out of nowhereSilent was he dying red