Primordial To The Nameless Dead 1. Empire Falls 2. Gallows Hymn 3. As Rome Burns 4. Failures Burden 5. Heathen Tribes 6. The Rising Tide 7. Traitors Gate 8. No Nation On This Earth Empire Falls A cold wind is blowing Through the graves it is blowing And it bares a poisoned tongue And the foul breath of deceit I am my fathers son And his deeds Cannot be undone... be undone You trade in his blood Writing your history In the sacrifices of the dead Where is the fighting man? Am I he? You would trade every truth For hollow victories Every empire will fall Every monument crumble Forgotten men who watch the centuries Whose silent words Rise up in betrayal We will rise up in betrayal Where is the fighting man? Am I he? You would trade every truth For hollow victories Every empire falls And the earth to ashes turn The lands of my birth Shall be my tomb The are the lands, the lands of my birth Soon to be ruins, the ruins of my past And when the sky should fall The earth to ashes turn Then you know they shall be my tomb Where is the fighting man? I am he You would trade every truth For hollow victories Gallows Hymn Sister, do not pray for me There is no forgiveness here Just the longest, darkest night And my peoples end Brother, many a crooked day we spent Telling tales and making myths Sharpening our tongues for the final fight Yet doing little but growing old I was never a religious man So why should I put my faith in you? You burned your bridges a long time ago I'm a heathen, searching for his soul "History is often dictated by faith. Putting the worlds to rights while it passes you by. Is there an honour in following your words to the bitter end despite being plagued with doubts?..." As Rome Burns We are falling over the ends of the earth So gather your sons and daughters before you And tell them that these are the final days of all Preach to the paupers And sing to the slaves I see you've chosen to loose your faith To burn your bridges and lose your way From mountain top to valley deep From shore to cursed shore What Nation, what State what Land is this? The wretched Tribe of Nero... Sing Sing Sing to the Slaves Sing to the Slaves that Rome Burns Are our bones not dust? Is our Blood not Poison? On my knees in the black light Praying for Salvation, bitter Redemption So throw your dice and cast your shadow You may look away But your children will not... Failures Burden Days drift and I rise to the cold sun I was born an old child With no place for faith in my heart Aged in my sleep or bitter times ahead You may say I've given up the ghost Once and for all admitted defeat And laid out my hand for all to see And made peace with the beast in me Winter mocks me though he does not need to call my name He thinks my bones are brittle And the grip of my resolve is tired Sullen and weakened just the same I don't remember when it happened When the clocks stopped Their hands tied And my heart stood still I have saved the least for last Torn out all who reached for me A beggar before beauty Failures burden rests with me Every man is evil Every man a Liar And every word he speaks Kindling to the Fire Heathen Tribes This is my church It stands so tall and proud It has done for all time It has no walls Yet its vast halls Reach from shore to shore To whatever shore You know as your own We stand as one, we stand alone We are born From the same womb Hewn from the same stone From the frozen Baltic I watched sunrise over Athena Walked the battlefields of Flanders And saw duskfall at Cintra Beneath the spires of Sofia Fields of crosses at Arnhem Armenius stood tall in Teuteborg Senatus Populusque Romanus To the fjords of Hordaland Shadows of ancient Albion At the shore of a 1000th lake Saint Vitus dance in Praha Yet when to Ireland we Return I know that I am home at last And every sun that sets Takes me closer to her Earth The Rising Tide [Instrumental] Traitors Gate Borders swell like the oceans Nations swept away In the steel rain Wounds carved in the earth The silent hands of genocide Map the years Forgotten legacies of dust People remembered in nothing But fragments of language Verses of song And shards of military rust The gallows cold hands Tighten old rope Young men hang in the fetid breeze Like rotten fruit Too ripe for harvest They have marched us Through the streets Heralded our death Proclaimed our end And brought us to our knees A host of the willing few Is gathered at the Traitors Gates Demanding their pound of flesh And their weight in gold The tyrant Resurrected as King Who's Midas touch an Iron Fist All the world proclaiming Yesterday's man as Traitor Yet welcome with open arms His brother as tomorrows Dictator No Nation On This Earth The sea will be as a desert When my bones are long to dust Beneath shifting dunes And the searing Unconquerable son Pile the bodies on the pyre Warm the old heart of the earth This is no place for faith, nor for hope Just a journey through the darkest of nights To the old heart of the earth These are wounds made by cold hands That know the bite of steel Hands that have rendered life extinct And punished the weak at heart Tell e what Nation on this Earth Is not born of Tragedy? That has not felt such harsh weapons Wielded by cruelty's desire