Generals gathered in their masses Just like witches at black masses Evil minds that plot destruction Sorcerer of death's construction

Scaly monarch with a deadly glance, turns all to stone in a chilling dance. Crowned with feathers, tales surround, the serpent king where legends are found.

In fire I fall, in ash I sleep, yet death itself I do not keep. From cinders cold my wings are spun, what am I, the deathless one?

A golden shroud we seen in myth full of wonder and mystery man hid

A serpent of steel across the land, guiding iron steeds through countryside and city, uniting distant hearts with rhythmic clatter and jarring bellows.