With a burning behind his eyes He walked under the red of September skies Holding back a stinging tear Lost and confused, but uncrippled by fear Battling against the future and fate Damn Heaven, Hell can wait Wife dead and children gone He hunted down the demon spawn All lost but his pride Moral victories can turn no tide A crazy chant started in his mind It's kill the source or go mad and blind Titus Crow had come and left again His stories left by Henri's pen These and the Mad Arab's text could guide And protection in a stone star on a string of hide Hunted by Minions of the Deep He stalked onward towards their keep Marching on to the temples’ pounding drone Lusting for blood, craving the taste of bone History chose the other side Moral victories can turn no tide In the dark and under the deep In their world they own your sleep When you wake they own you too Your mind is the cage to their zoo Chained by nothing but a chant Held in place by a unworldly rant Not meant to be heard, less understood Half-human tongue rattles under a hood Taken captive in their great hall He ensured a few would take their fall Of these fewer would ever be seen to rise Vapors, mists, and death fill their screeching sighs But with Death walking at your side There's no time left to bide Despite every deed done and every tactic tried Moral victories can turn no tide