Across the whistling winds
Comes the stalwart voice
The ghost we knew so well
And with a swiftness
And with the fury
Comes the fate we'll live to tell
John Chapman calls to the living
To the arms of the unforgiving
As cold as stone
And bare as bone
As the furnace roars
We go, we go, we go to war
Now the storm winds blow
As the dark clouds creep
And comes the fire
For our black souls to steep
Now with electric eyes
We plot our course
Fueled by fire
We charge with force
No mercy to follow
Just a settled score
As the furnace roars
We go to war