O have you seen Lord Tolgedaath
With helm of steel and silver-gray
He wandered lone through mighty hills
And kept the undead hordes at bay.
He swung his ax in fearsome arcs
He knocked their rotting heads
He walked alone, and lonesome caves
Were where he made his beds
Their cloying stench, their tattered flesh, 
He tore with blade and brawn
But then the plague broke through his shield.
He never saw the dawn. 

O have you seen Lost Tolgedaath
With helm of green and flesh of gray?
He wanders still through lonely hills.
Though never by the light of day.