From the Arcane Mists of Prophecy Visigoth

Seven suns light the sky
Our time has come, at last we ride

In days when arcane magicks ripped apart the ancient sky
And mighty tyrants ruled with sorcery and steel
Where vast barbaric hordes rode out on cursed battlefields
And spilled each others' blood with chaos in their hearts

Seven suns shall rise in an endless desert sky

Across these ancient paths we ride
We feel a sorrow deep inside
Reclaim the fire in our minds
And raise our fists against the sky

The hourglass proclaims the death of ages come to pass
Forgotten sagas fade to grey mythology
Now steel and honor and usurped by cold complacency
And battles born within the vile womb of avarice

Seven suns shall rise in an endless desert sky

So from the depths of ancient ages, beneath the sun-scorched sand
An evil with no name awaits to claim the land again
And so we wait with bated breath for the rising of the seventh sun
To break the chains of our entombment
The dawn of battle comes