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Brocas Helm
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Warrior of the Dark
The wind is made of thunder
The dark is made of dreams
The wizards ride the hills tonight
Doing battle with electric screams
And against a spear of lightning
A figure rides the stars
His steed a dragon red and gold
His weapon a black guitar
My fingers played like hellfire
As I played the killing chord
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The dragon screams and falls from sky
As if pierced by magic sword
But it's rider find a stabbing note
Before they crash to flame
I am caught in a mighty storm of devils in my brain
Warriors of the dark
Repeat
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