At the woods of the old Europe, Greenlands of entwined trees, The fog hides secrets and rumours, Elder than the mountain and the seas…
Stories about and old army, Immortal souls to wander the woods at night, Seeking the smell of human living, Hunting up when the land is dark…
Stories of Christian folk to fear The population with their lies, The only god to rule the woods Is we who stand with honour and pride…
Folk from old, our ancestors, Fearless women and brave men, Landed the woods with painted faces, Denying their Christian faith and lies…
United like a pack of howling wolves… Under the full-moon every season… The altar where the fallen rest… Keeps shining with the burning pagan flames…
THE FLAMES BURN STRONGER THAN EVER
We offer to the Gods of nature, A gift of praise and sacrifice With each and every change of season, when moon is full and night shines It is time to hunt beyond our kingdoms, it is time to get armed again Now they shall know their worse nightmare, Now they shall hear the ancestral voice!!
Beneath the branches, Behind the trunks… Under the night-sky, below the stars… We move as shadows in frozen ground…and then my eyes could see their cross!! We are the hunters, to smell their blood… We crawl in silence, to capture porks… The silent night before the storm… GLOWS WITH THE BLADES OF OUR SWORDS!!
OBEY THE GODS OF NATURE SHOW RESPECT FOR THE ANCIENT VALUES PRIDE…LAND…HONOUR… FOLLOW THE DARK AND FORGOTTEN… PAST!!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
