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 di