A black sunset rises under a funeral sky The freezing waters below as mirrors made of funeral mist The blasting sky above and the fullmoon is on the rise
My hair blows in the winds of reap Still I float with the cold diabolical massacre winds On the bestial wings of evil Above the mountainside and into cryptic winterstorms
I long for eternal frost and black winters AsIeep is the cold lakes awake in the stars in the sky And silent the vaIIeys in the North Where I once were a proud warrior Where I belong where I bath my soul in doomfirefog Where I ride deaths cold winds in the battles in the North
As a Norse warrior I rode the dark valleys With longsword in hand sworned to throne dark lands
And to return to my master in the blue mist of the dying sunset
A black sunset dies under the funeral sky My hair blows in the winds of reap Still I float with the cold diabolical massacrewinds On the overshadowed bestial wings of evil
Above the mountainside and into cryptic winterstorms forever
Версия для печати