It's an ideal as old as man itself, a value obscured, yet never deceased
a way of life that must go on, a knowledge that lives in the hearts of the chosen
as sure as life and death itself, a thinking and being that must survive
and if our campaign is pure, and commitment lives within our hearts
our quest will go forth unharmed, for glory is fleeting
and victory's just a part of doing the job right, and it'll take place like this
and it's an age old ideal and one that never died
for there was no beginning, no vortex in time
and the footsteps now trodden, imprint the souls of those who served
we march to the same beat, although we're of a different time
if our campaign is pure, if our campaign is true
and we won't tolerate a thing that stands in the way of completing our quest
and it'll shape up like this
for vengeance will be swift via a hand so merciless
and the hammers will roll out in a bloody masquerade
and some things never change no matter how oft the clock does turn
we march to the same beat though we're of a different time
and if our campaign is pure, and the weapon of choice is within our reach
our quest shall go forth unharmed
for while glory is fleeting the spoils will be ours just the same
and it'll take place like this
and all subversives crushed, our legacy this will be, with no ifs or buts to be heard
and we'll sound the siren for our faith to rise again
and future generations will fly the flag