Buried beneath the mountains of frost Years of silent sorrow grim and dark My winterwings of evil sleep in eternal nights In deaths cold crypts of snow The moon chaimed my return With the blackstorms I came And not with the wings
The Northern darkness marches through the coldest night
I can't resist the taste from the winds of the moon I split my tongue for the taste of these winds And bath my eyes in it's grace Frost and winters returns to my eyes The call of the wintermoon
Nocturnal clouds blows freely in the distance In the gray mist of deaths horizon My winterwings of evil sleeps In deaths cold crypts of snow Buried beneath the mountains of frost Years of silent sorrow grim and dark
Into eternal nights Hearing the call of the wintermoon.
Версия для печати