Beat The Drum

The watchman paces nervously
The talk is all of war
Inside the hollow mountain s Hall of Stone
Blade and bow as sharp as fear
Dark whispers haunt the atmosphere
And waiting side by side, we stand alone
And we ll march on down from the Halls of Fable
March, march, march cross the quaking land
We ll march on down from the Halls of Fable
On the Fields of Rhianna we make our stand
And we ll march on down from the Halls of Fable
March, march, march cross the quaking land
We ll march on down from the Halls of Fable
On the Fields of Rhianna we ll make our stand
Will they come? Will they come?
You beat the drum for martyrdom
As you sent us all to war
Invoking gods and godless spirits of the past
You wave the flag, the trumpets sound
The roar of thousands shakes the ground
Prepared to die if that is what you ask