A battlefield unfolds, the chaos begins to sing,
Shadows clashing, steel and fire, where dreams are thin.
Allies falter, scattered steps, no rhythm, no rhyme,
The clock ticks louder?victory stolen by time.
Whispers in the air, complaints like ghosts arise,
Blaming winds that shift, the storm behind their eyes.
If triumph comes, the crown’s mine, my light’s the flare,
Forget the cracks I’ve made?it’s glory that I wear.
Endless murmurs circle like the autumn breeze,
Grudges sprouting in the cold, they never freeze.
Alone I march, though my words sink like lead,
Echoes bounce in silence from the walls in my head.
Oh-oh-oh, the endless call of Summoner’s Rift,
Oh-oh-oh, the battle’s weight, a heavy gift.
Oh-oh-oh, no escape from the spell it weaves,
Oh-oh-oh, the game that never leaves.
A phoenix rising with the horn’s first sound,
Commands fly high, soldiers scatter around.
A silent hero, playing the martyr’s tune,
Yet the glory fades, swallowed by the moon.
Rare kindness breaks the battlefield’s harsh tone,
A fleeting gesture, soft warmth where war has grown.
Their steps remind me of a harmony long missed,
A simple gift: humanity’s quiet twist.
Oh-oh-oh, the endless call of Summoner’s Rift,
Oh-oh-oh, the battle’s weight, a heavy gift.
Oh-oh-oh, no escape from the spell it weaves,
Oh-oh-oh, the game that never leaves.
The tides may turn, a single move rewrites,
A fragile balance tipped by unseen lights.
Yet as blades and spells paint the twilight sky,
It’s the journey, not the win, that keeps me high.
Oh-oh-oh, the endless call of Summoner’s Rift,
Oh-oh-oh, the battle’s weight, a heavy gift.
Oh-oh-oh, no escape from the spell it weaves,
Oh-oh-oh, the game that never leaves.
Oh-oh-oh, the endless call of Summoner’s Rift,
Oh-oh-oh, the battle’s weight, a heavy gift.
Oh-oh-oh, no escape from the spell it weaves,
Oh-oh-oh, the game that never leaves.
And so I play, through storms of joy and strife,
This ever-changing dance we call the game of life.
And so I play, through storms of joy and strife,
This ever-changing dance we call the game of life.
A battlefield unfolds, the chaos begins to sing,
Shadows clashing, steel and fire, where dreams are thin.
Allies falter, scattered steps, no rhythm, no rhyme,
The clock ticks louder?victory stolen by time.
Whispers in the air, complaints like ghosts arise,
Blaming winds that shift, the storm behind their eyes.
If triumph comes, the crown’s mine, my light’s the flare,
Forget the cracks I’ve made?it’s glory that I wear.
Endless murmurs circle like the autumn breeze,
Grudges sprouting in the cold, they never freeze.
Alone I march, though my words sink like lead,
Echoes bounce in silence from the walls in my head.
Oh-oh-oh, the endless call of Summoner’s Rift,
Oh-oh-oh, the battle’s weight, a heavy gift.
Oh-oh-oh, no escape from the spell it weaves,
Oh-oh-oh, the game that never leaves.
A phoenix rising with the horn’s first sound,
Commands fly high, soldiers scatter around.
A silent hero, playing the martyr’s tune,
Yet the glory fades, swallowed by the moon.
Rare kindness breaks the battlefield’s harsh tone,
A fleeting gesture, soft warmth where war has grown.
Their steps remind me of a harmony long missed,
A simple gift: humanity’s quiet twist.
Oh-oh-oh, the endless call of Summoner’s Rift,
Oh-oh-oh, the battle’s weight, a heavy gift.
Oh-oh-oh, no escape from the spell it weaves,
Oh-oh-oh, the game that never leaves.
The tides may turn, a single move rewrites,
A fragile balance tipped by unseen lights.
Yet as blades and spells paint the twilight sky,
It’s the journey, not the win, that keeps me high.
Oh-oh-oh, the endless call of Summoner’s Rift,
Oh-oh-oh, the battle’s weight, a heavy gift.
Oh-oh-oh, no escape from the spell it weaves,
Oh-oh-oh, the game that never leaves.
Oh-oh-oh, the endless call of Summoner’s Rift,
Oh-oh-oh, the battle’s weight, a heavy gift.
Oh-oh-oh, no escape from the spell it weaves,
Oh-oh-oh, the game that never leaves.
And so I play, through storms of joy and strife,
This ever-changing dance we call the game of life.
And so I play, through storms of joy and strife,
This ever-changing dance we call the game of life.