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Reverend Bizarre - Last of the Templars

Coming through the night

I am carried by the wind

Mansion in my sight

I am redeemer of the sinned



He met me by the door

Praying for the dead

Remembering the war

How I always walked ahead



Son, cry for Jerusalem

Where the order raised their Steel

To fight the hordes of men

And to claim back every hill



I walk the night alone

Unholy friend of fear

My flute is made of bone

The sound is cold and clear



A whisper in the dark

My hand will never fail

You will know my mark

Silence will prevail



Son, cry for Jerusalem

Where the order raised their steel

To fight the hordes of men

And to claim back every hill



King of the Dead

King of the Dead

King of the Dead

King of the Dead
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