Battlecry in the Dust

White bones shining in the pale moonlight

A rising army in the dead of night

We draw our line in the freezing clay

No backing down, we've got no place to fly

Raise your iron, hold the pass

This breath we take might be our last

Let the hollow legions scream and roar

We're standing tall at the final door (hold the line)

Cold wind howling through their hollow eyes

They think we'll break beneath their silent skies

But flesh and blood can hold the ancient ground

Until the sun comes up or we go down

Raise your iron, hold the pass

This breath we take might be our last

Let the hollow legions scream and roar

We're standing tall at the final door

(hold the line)

They think we'll fall

But we stand tall

This is Sparta