Oh, how the Crow flies
Swiftly through the tortured sky.
See how the Crow flies
Over fields of dead,
Over gruesome battle scenes,
Over tales of old.
Caw-aw! Caw-aw!
Hear how the Crow cries.
For the wounded and dying
Soldiers.
For the fields of dead.
See the Crow fly
Passed pools of bodies,
By rivers of blood-
running through the marshes.
Watch how the Crow flies
As the wind ruffles its feathers,
Coasting over currents of gas
emanating from the cold,
dismembered bodies
Hear how the Crow flies
Crying its call of distress.
See how the crow flies,
A guardian for the lost souls of old.