Seven Trumpets — Manilla Road

The whirlwind howls my name My mind soars across the planes The blood upon the stone Dried ages ago

And the gods are sleeping No one left to bow before Our race has lost it's way Temples lye in decay Belial in his lair Awaits the trumpets blare

And the gods are sleeping No one left to hear our prayers

The ancient gods are waiting for the call From the seven trumpets of Altamont The seas will churn the dead shall rise again The serpent shall be loosed the rivers all run red

Lords of the lihght awake Rise up unto your fate Belial's horde awaits Open the ancient gates Sounding the horns of war It's what you've waited for Rise up and sleep no more