Nazgul Breath

Servants to the Dark Lord, as once great men
Slaving to the boundless ambition of corruption, we live within the shadows; between the wraith world and yours
The Third Age swiftly takes shape as the Witchking of Angmar conquers
A bloodlust granted through resistance of the watchtower
Awaiting the master's return, the armies grow exponentially
Praising the abhorred
Black language ringing through your ears
Visions of war painting the halls of your mind
We cast the storm of perdition upon the weak and brittle
Cloaked behind the veils of honor and death, our torments became the whispers of future's past
The reign of our kind will always be swift, forever to be reveled, and always to be born again
The cold rains of dominion, soon to flood the prospered
Buried unto thee, we carry out the work of our masters plight
As the winds of death send shivers to your kind
We are the black stars, consuming the light
Raging bellows of the departed, raping the jewels of the dissentient
Reigning terror from the falling skies as we plant the precious seed of fear, colliding the beauty of death and sorrows of living
[Solo]
Through midnight's embrace, we descend from the moonlight
Black breath encrusting the crown of divinity
A fog of pain engulfs all that is known
Limitless in vision, we serve only to the gallery
Of oppression and despair
Servants to the Dark Lord, as once great men
Slaving to the boundless ambition of corruption