Over the hills, beneath the panning sky
The blood washed terrain where the men cry
Death comes in a fiery chariot
The dark king riding with a frightful threat.

Retreating warriors and fallen pawns
Broken angels and wailing moans.
In a single moment, silent reigns
Over the hills, a song begins.

Voices, heavenly voices floating high and low
The sound of a harp, the blow of a horn
The brave hearts rise to the sound of their names
As they ascend to the heavens, homeward bound.