The wind is moaning through the trees

and the sorceress on her knees

Sacrifice in the grove tonight



The legions are on their way and the Romans they must pay

Sorcery to crush their might



In a world not our own a king lolls on his throne

And faint, he hears the call

>From a book of ancient spells

The sorceress calls up hells

Where the lakes of blood run down like water falls



Demon come forth

Manifest rune Thorn



Thorn the vampire, Thorn the man

Thorn the king from the dying land



Today all in the arena will die except you chosen one

He who holds the sword of Spartacus

Prince of the Erin Isle brother of the sorceress

Armed with the sword by dead heroes blessed



Blood Bath In The Arena

Gladiators and spectators die

Blood Bath In The Arena

Death on wings will fly

Blood Bath In The ArenaThorn rides and the vampire horse

will feast

It is the price for saving the Erin prince

From the death the Ceasar has decreed



The magick charged blade the old druid had bade

be delivered to the prince

The Ceasar will not deny the last request in his eye

of the doomed prince

The blade will not mark the prince, Thron he will sense

The magick encased within

All others they will fall in the stone encased walls

The arena their tomb sealed



He mounts the Vampire horse

aerial borneupon his course



Thorn the vampire, Thorn the king

A song of slaughter his blade will sing



Today all in the arena will die except you

chosen one, he who holds the sword of Spartacus

Prince of the Erin Isle brother of the sorceress

Armed with the sword by dead heroes blessed



Blood Bath In The Arena

Gladiators and spectators die-