The Crows Ahead Cry War
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Lyrics
Dusk, a primal vibrant red; violent. Clouds, seeping color - the crows cry out war. The plains, they tremble - anxious, the night brings blood. The cold bitter night, awaiting flame and fury. Swift like the night, the riders descend. The braves circle around; torches to the night, arrows to the dawn. The smoke marks an early grave, it rises with the sun.
Audio Features
Song Details
- Duration
- 10:39
- Tempo
- 119 BPM