The Bird of Hermes is my name,
Consuming my wings to make myself tame.
Kingdoms rise, and Empires fall.
Your Dragon stands before you,
He stands before us all.
In the year of the Lord, the end of salvation,
There is no savior,
Only eternal damnation.
His wings are clipped, he cannot fly,
Held tightly within a curse, the Father of the Night without a cry.
Hunters on the prowl, this wolf without a howl,
A stake through the heart, the King of No-Life tamed as never before.
In service of the Lord, Queen, and Master,
The yearning for death falls ever faster.
What choice do you have, Monster of Master?
Fight on, my Servant. You’ve yet to meet your end.
Scorpion, Eagle, then Phoenix arisen.
It is the dawn of a new era, drawing forth tides unbidden.
Will you drown in your rivers of blood?
Or will you fight on, my Servant, armed with your guns?
The end draws near, our fate rides high.
You are my Monster, and by my command bullets fly.
Fight on, my Monster, for you cannot die.
By the seal of my forefather’s,
Unfurl your wings, and fly.