The Last Emperor

On an auburn hillside, backlit by the dusk
 Three priests now stand before a horde of somber men
 Surrounded by the relics of saints now long dead
 Intimidated by the aura, they obey
 Blessed are you, you who go to war
 Blessed are you, you who fight for God
 The winds are howling, crying out for change
 The southern winds are baying, crying out for blood
 Here I find myself, a sinner with luck
 Never have I had to pay for my sins
 Weary and weak, yearning for absolution
 Burn! Feeling the blood course
 through my veins in a brief moment of respite
 Now there's a chance to redeem
 myself and bring some honor back to my name
 Kill all who attack the flock
 Maim all who occupy our lands
 Burn those who stand in our way
 Praise all who die for the faith
 Settle the debt and clear out the
 past, that I might make it right with God
 God surely wills it
 He wills us to free every lamb that's under the yoke
 Rise, Knights of Bouillon! Rise to the task!
 Stand up and fight for those who've
 been faithful and true — an unyielding frame
 This is truly the ideal resolve
 There, Jerusalem, a city of light!
 This is the place where I shall find absolution, mercy divine!
 This is the place where I shall die
 Hold back all your tears, steel all your hearts
 Wave after wave we shall deny
 Never again we'll abdicate another yard of Christian soil
 Kill all who hold attack the flock
 Maim all who devastate our lands
 Burn those who stand in our way
 Praise all who die for the cross