Lyrics:

Lords, can it be mistakes
Throughout the constant vows
Of the lost and gone, blind and wrong

Inside a faith without a home
A fire that is cold but grows so well
Who's to tell about it all?
A nation cannot see
The hardest part to take
Is not for me, the dying trees

This is what wars are made of
(This is what wars are made of)

Haunted
Haunted

The readings cracked and grey
And plagiarized to date
Altered by the bastards
Of pure disguise of seas and skies

The pagan drums should wake
The sleeping of the fools
To forget the church's language
Who's the fool, me or you?
The greatest mask of fate
The longest battle through
The text of great predictors
For me and you, the old and new

This is what wars are made of
(This is what wars are made of)

Haunted
Haunted
Haunted
Haunted