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1. |
From The Womb Of Death
05:52
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"FROM THE WOMB OF DEATH"
Brightness of the stars of the north
Tears apart the stomach of the Great Bear
The cold abyss leaks and wraps the sky
Born of the black star of the black gore of death
I bring you the suffer
I bring you torments
I seed the doubts
And throw out the thorns
My head reaches the arctic sky
Cold blood drops from the mount
Black aura of the night covered my arms
Like a wild beast, bloody god
I am the dawn of the dying sun
Dead blurred sunset
Ice ribbon of the blue
No one cries upon the silent graves
Vanity of all vanities and blood on ice
North wind sculpts the monuments
Of your sons, they are hollowed and grid
Rotten offspring iced in the mother´s womb
Dead space
Eternal death
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2. |
Cold Grave of The North
05:21
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"COLD GRAVE OF THE NORTH"
White Death, cold breath of hell tears apart the chest
Pain, loneliness, doubt and violent touch of sun
Seeds only death, tomorrow will never come
Hope covered in ice
Outbreak of recollections like a painful cramp
That blows up the sick head
I vomit the worms of the past
Only ice around - boundless icebergs
I dig my grave there
There will be only wind as the guest
I feed the oceans of death
Step by step
With my own body, my own soul
Endless night covers the heart with fear
It is like a snake from the long dead Eden
Stars above...
...like eyes of the long dead
Stars below...
...drift dead among the dead nebulas
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3. |
Under The Horned Moon
04:34
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"UNDER THE HORNED MOON"
A bell calls and a cock falls silent
This dark night congeals
A witch pours fright into the hearts
And coagulates the whole blood
Roar of Hell - bloody anthem
Rumored… with Steel
Rusty fog and dug tomb
The wind brings moans
Stench of the bleak swamp
Fills lung and twists the mind
Funeral howls
Whisper of this night
And the mad eye twinkles
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4. |
Darkness! Darkness!
04:15
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„DARKNESS! DARKNESS!”
Darkness! Darkness!
It envelops the old wood
Dead shadows call me
Cold ground, coldness of the stars
Darkness! Darkness!
Putrid lust kindles me
The Dungeon in the primeval granite
The putrid dust makes me intoxicated
Like a phantom – before the sun – hidden
Every night I run into the crypt
Till the possession is bursting
And burning like thousand candles
The ancient grave calls
I hear the whisper, the dead calls
And the death born its child
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