Virgin Steele

Your God isn't here - She is dead
Crushed by your Prophets of Dread
Death-Fire, Mist, Blood and Wine
Torn like a rose from the vine
So you run to the hills to divine
What is left of your frotune and find
VICTORY IS MINE underneath a Savage sky
VICTORY IS MINE from the darkness I have won, oh
Sad Ghosts of old victories
Come crowding the fields where we cleaved
Locked in Immortal embrace
Handsome as Death's Iron face
I will run to the hills where you hide
Seeking Vengeance for all of my kind
VICTORY IN MINE by the Hammer and the Nine
VICTORY IN MINE from the Mountains to the Sea