Warriors Of The Dark

Brocas Helm

The wind is made of thunder

The dark is made of dreams

The wizards ride the hills tonight

Doing battle with electric screams



And against a spear of lightning

A figure rides the stars

His steed a dragon red and gold

His weapon a black guitar



My fingers played like hellfire

As I played the killing chord

The dragon screams and falls from sky

As if pierced by magic sword



But it's rider find a stabbing note

Before they crash to flame

I am caught in a mighty storm of devils in my brain



Warriors of the dark



[Repeat]