There are no ancient swords to aid in this,
nor prophets pointing the way,
no magic rings to find in dark caves,
nor a sleeping host awaiting the call.

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.

There are no keys to hidden doors,
nor waystations upon the road,
no mountains which to climb,
nor holy refuge to stumble upon.

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.

There is no face to the dark,
nor name to cry out to within it,
no blessing that I can give you,
nor any promise I can make.

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.

break for riff

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.

How can I be what you need?
How can I fight the past without weapons?
How can I hold you in the dark and make it go away?

There is no quest to be had,
save the one that takes me to you,
no battle worth fighting,
except to fight for you.

So much said and done,
so much unsaid and undone,
lost here now, lost within and without.

Under the mists of time,
the faces worn in the light,
and the fears in the night,
still we stand and fight.