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Песня в стиле симфоник фолк металл, о войне белой и алой розы в Англии 22 мая 1455 — 16 июня 1487 текст песни The white rose bloomed, a symbol pure and bright, The red rose clashed, a challenge, day and night. Two houses warring, for England’s royal crown, York against Lancaster, tearing nation down. On fields of green, the blood of brothers spilled, The throne a prize, by ambition fiercely willed. From Towton’s carnage, to Tewkesbury’s despair, A generation lost, consumed by endless snare. The whispers spread of princes locked away, Richard the Third, a villain history would portray. But truth lies buried, with bones beneath the stones, As power shifted, echoing through the ages’ groans. A Tudor rose then bloomed, a union to restore, The wars were over, but scars forevermore. The houses joined, their feud finally at rest, A single dynasty, putting England to the test.
