Cryptic Winterstorms

(альбом: Diabolical Fullmoon Mysticism - 1992)

Black sunset rises
Under the funeral sky
The freezing waters below
As mirrors made of funeral mist
But the blasting sky above
And the fullmoon is on the rise
Fullmoon's on the rise

My hair blows in the winds of reap
Still I float with the cold diabolical massacre winds
On the bestial wings of evil
Above the mountainside
And into cryptic winterstorms

I long for eternal frost and black winters
Asleep in the cold lakes
Awake in the stars in the sky
And silent the valleys in the North
Where I once were a proud warrior

Where I belong
Where I bath my soul in doom fire fog
Where I ride death's cold winds
In the battles in the North

As Norse warriors I rode the dark valleys
With long sword in hand
Sworn to throne the dark lands
To return to my masters
In the blue mist of the dying sunset

Black sunset dies
Under the funeral sky
My hair blows
In the winds of reap

Still I float
With the cold diabolical massacre winds
On the overshadowed
Bestial wings of evil

Above the mountainside
And into cryptic winterstorms

Forever