They Call It Dark Magic, Because It Is!
Small Folk
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We stand on shoulders tall
And though we feel so small
Our hands can hold it all
This place we have been given
We push our way to war
No matter what we saw
Forge steel to make a sword
Instead of just our prison
We wield this blade with hate
Make beauty into pain
And paint it like the rain
Across this place we live in
A shadow in our hearts
That grows each day more dark
And magic was the start
Of where we had this vision
Behold the age of man
Where hatred makes it's stand
Behold the age of men
Set fire and start again
Behold the age of man
Where hatred makes it's stand
Behold the age of men
Set fire and start again