Hærk! good comrades, heed our call And lysten our laye of woe A hole! a hollow! hath come to be Atop our drummer's throne!
Wæs hæl stout comrades!
An age hath pass’d, ‘tis true, since we address’d ye last! But thou shalt tarry for tidings no longer…
The good fellowes at Pandemonium Club hath sought from us a descriptive text for those among ye who may struggle with our florid and arcane language. We thought it worth sharing with ye, for in sooth, the young gentlemen in question work very hard for heavy metal.