<White Skull> page <The Ring Of The Ancients> album page |
From The MistThe moon shines high from the top of the hillA white curtain rises Spirits are calling as the old man stands still Waiting for the crimson light Feeling the presence of a power supreme Becoming aware of the secrets Lying away from the human sight The night, the forest The last caress for The old man waiting for the mist Ancients calling, tribes united Annwn is the otherworld Fingers like iced branches Clenching the sword The last battle is lost A look to the village A preyer for the sons Dana's calling your name |