The frost tries to reach us with its cruel, cold hands the cold witheness hurts our eyes and we still march with wind in the face. We follow the trace of blood in the snow yesterday we burnt two villages we killed women and children heads out of the bodies of priests we impaled on our wooden socle
The blood of hideous monk is still getting blacker on my axe their temple burnt and we fed a fire with their corpses my brothers are marching silently the great frost turns their hearts to ice the warm blood will bring the life back to their bodies
Another christian village is near those who escaped showed us the way by the blood from their wounds we must deal them a deathblow before wolves get them on the horizon behind us the black smoke appears on the sky on the hills, full of trees wolves observe us they´ll leave the hills and follow us as soon as the day is overTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
