Will-o-the wisp, don't glad about on Brocken's summit you'll lead our way For I'm the master of this place and I will blow your lantern out We'll now attend Walpurgis night, experience lust on a higher level We'll mix with daughters of the devil, depraved bodies of such delight
And fire, such fire! Its beauty unmatched A glorious prelude to Satan's arrival
Dies Irae, dies illa Solvet Saeclum in favilla Judex ergo cum sedebit Quidquid latet adparebit
Nil inultum remanebit Quid sum miser tunc dicturus? Quem patronum rogaturus? Cum vix justus sit securus
[English translation:] Day of wrath and terror looming Heaven and earth to ash consuming Then the judge will sit, revealing Every hidden thought and feeling
Unto each requitel dealing… What shall wretched I be crying? To what friend for succour flying When the just in fear are sighing?
He speaks in tongues and yet they understand Of he-goats and she-goats, of phallus and cunts They bow at his altar, give ear to his words and kiss his backside Vassals: good and true
"I don't know what they're stewing and brewing. A witches' coven. Ride on! Ride on!"
Ad Majorem Satanae Gloriam!Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
