High, on high I stand
Gazing down to see
The endless garden
Awating me

Red bloometh the rose of conviction
And red bloometh the rose of hate
Yes red bloometh the rose of conquest
Firmly bound to its fate
And the war, it wageth on
The storm, it rageth on

The bold ever fight on
Their lives echoed in song
Fall, like snow they fall
Petals plucked and strewn
Yet from their seeds grow
This war anew

Blood trickling down from my fullers
And blood trickling down from my hands
Yes, blood trickling down to Hydalen
Until I alone stand

The war, still wageth on
The storn, still rageth on
The bold blindly march on
Their lives, lost in a song