For everything around me i experience is cold and dead
The blood of others is of a colder substance and taste
Therefore i must spill and serve
The blood that in me runs vibrant
In the frost of the dying min
D.S. of western society i recreate
It will be the resurrection
Of the brotherhood of holy d**h
In the year of the Holy Roman Empire
Of night times to come and last
The day of which i shall
Lay my sword upon your throats
Upon the mighty warriors
Of the land of northern regions
Upon the shores of our desolate coast within the waves
I can see the wreckage floating ashore of the dying culture
And so i greet those who still have eyes to observe and see
And who still have courage to break through into the dying light